We are the generation born in the 2000s, pushed to grow up before we were ready.
From childhood, we were taught to work hard, be sensible, and make something of ourselves.
But when we finally entered the workforce, we discovered the truth:
Hard work doesn't earn you fairness, being sensible doesn't earn you respect, and trying to prove yourself only gets you exploited without limit.
During recruitment, they say overtime is optional. Once you're hired, overtime is mandatory and you don't dare ask for time off.
They promise a relaxed atmosphere, but in reality, you're berated at the slightest provocation and blamed for every mistake.
We have feelings too. We can break down too. We want to be treated like people,
not tools that can work endlessly without getting tired.
Why should it be this way?
Our bosses work five days on and two days off, while we work late into the night.
They talk about ideals and make empty promises, while we worry about rent and our next meal.
We entered the workforce full of passion,
but they wore down our edges and drained our enthusiasm, leaving us numb and resentful.
We refuse to accept it.
We refuse to let our youth be wasted or our sincerity trampled on.
We refuse to give everything we have and still be denied even basic respect.
We refuse to become the kind of people we hate most,
and we refuse to bow our heads to this miserable life.
So we choose to turn away.
It's not surrender, and it's not running away.
We simply don't want to be defined, manipulated, or forced to keep swallowing our anger.
This is the last stubbornness of those of us born in the 2000s:
If the world won't care for us, then we'll care for ourselves.
If there's no room for us here, then we'll find somewhere else to live.
We take this resentment with us to the countryside,
and become our true selves, beyond anyone's reach to bully or control.
