Moths on the Green Train

We’re the post-80s generation. We grew up in a childhood of material scarcity, rode the tide of education reform, and entered society only to face fierce competition and soaring housing prices. We were once called “little emperors,” then the “sandwich generation,” and now we’re labeled as suffering from a “midlife crisis.” But aboard this train called the times, we have never stopped moving forward.

Like the moth in a green carriage, we crash again and again into invisible barriers, searching for an exit. Sometimes we’re battered and bruised, sometimes utterly exhausted, but we never stop trying to fly. Because we know there is light outside the window, and it’s worth giving everything we have to reach it.

Moths fly into flames not because they’re foolish, but because they yearn for the light. And our post-80s generation has spent our whole lives pursuing that one ray of light meant for us. But we haven’t left the stage. We’ve simply moved from its center to the lighting booth, using our experiences, choices, gains, and losses to adjust the light for those who come after us.

The green trains will eventually disappear from history, just as we will grow old. But the time we spent in those carriages, the stories we shared with strangers, and our confusion and hopes for the future will all become the collective memories of a generation, shining brightly in the river of time.