[I just found these few lines I wrote down about a year ago when reading a book about the future:]
Has every generation felt like this at a certain point of its existence? To think that there was such a better time before them. And that there is nothing new.
This is the »long tail« of life.
Recycled music, clothes.
Grotesque dancing scenes in clubs. So detached that you see yourself wonder about yourself, flying above your body. You comply.
Weightlessness, emptiness, social media.
You comply with rules, or you don’t care that they exist, not having ideas worth fighting for.
The thing closest to religion is veganism.
You turn on any type of streaming to fill spacetime and to hide the fact that you are lazy.
Nobody ever goes outside anymore. Nobody takes walks.
We get cats.
Nobody cares about social welfare. Nobody cares about eating behind a table with other people.
»Change« means getting a new tattoo.
There is so much information it makes us tired.
Relationships are mutual agreements.
We still sit and talk and it is so very pointless.
You don’t have anybody else to blame for your life but yourself. Accept it.
(This last one I borrowed from Douglas Coupland.)