Confession time

So. We are teens. There, I said it. We don't really give a fuck about crumb cake and waffles, I mean, sure it's nice once in a while (read: day), but it doesn't really do it for us. Nor does bridge or a soft cashmere sweater on an ever holy Sunday. Not that there's anything wrong with this; I'm sure in fiftysome years we'll all be either dead or reverted, but for now we're all Chuck Taylors and trashy jeans. Guess that's just the way of life: you have a stand till you... well, take a new stand, or grow to have a new stand.

But, being the teens we are, we supposedly have to deal with a lot of hormones; certainly, we have to deal with a lot of the more "experienced" souls occupying the air around us reminding us about these hormones. Of course they should know, they for one have the concept of retrospect on their side.

See, what we tend to forget, we, "the young and the reckless", is that all these people, believe it or not, have actually been just that too: young and (some) reckless. It might seem like forever ago, but if you consider the six billion years of existence on the part of our fine Mother Earth (wouldn't count on those six billion for a fact!), then the vastness of a generation gap somewhat shrinks in comparison. However, that is what the following lines (hell, it's a poem) are about: the encounter of generations.
......................................................................................................
Mit fremtidsspejlbillede

vi er jeres fortids spejlbilleder
gemt i år, uger, dage
sekunder går og tegner sorte streger i jeres hjertefacader

vi er jeres fortids spejlbilleder
glemt i tidsmaskiner
vendt tilbage for at ridse sorte streger i jeres spejlflader

- med pen
og med blad
vi skal nok få jer ned!

vi er født af jeres varme skød
for jer
som jer

vi vil gøre som jer
være som jer:
gøre alt for ikke at være som jer
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(The text is, as you will have probably learned, in Danish; let me just add to the above that we are Danish teens. I am certain, dear reader, that you will not hold us responsible to this fact as we really had no say in the matter)

So there you have it: Danish teens. And even remotely proud of it too. Of course there are laws in this country preventing the proudness from getting to our heads.