AMEETHYST

The millennials aren’t just angry. We’re fucking boiling. Not the kind of anger that beats up people or smashes bottles. No. Ours is quieter. Heavier.  The kind that sits in your gut like a stone and rots you from the inside. We grew up being told to respect our elders.  And we did. Dutiful little bastards, carrying their expectations like chains. Then we became the elders, the parents, the so-called grown-ups.  And what did the world tell us? That it was our job now to clean up the mess. To break the cycle. To heal the wounds we didn’t stitch in the first place. To suddenly become saints who wouldn’t pass on the poison we were force-fed. So here we are. Angry. Very angry. Not because we want to be, but because we’ve been denied the goddamn right to be angry in the first place. We weren’t allowed to rage at our parents. “Let it go,” they said. We can’t rage at our kids. “Break the pattern,” they say. So we swallow it all down. We swallow and swallow until we’re choking on...