Eighties Bashny.Net

Listen, recently realized completely intolerable fact - people born in the 90's, after the collapse of the Soviet Union - are able to speak, read, write, run by managers of departments, lead the youth political organizations, take out a mortgage, open a limited liability company, to shoot a Stechkin buy a BMW, start a family, and even have children! Even in the recent past, it seemed that the 92-year birthday - a day nursery, at best, a kindergarten, something very young and appeared to light recently, and here you come across in any criminal chronicle at the bearded fellow with tattoos and it turns out that he was born in the '90s.

This is accomplished horror axiom - we eighties, no longer considered "young people". I used to be younger than everyone. Younger than everyone in the class, all under the university, under everyone's work, under all the children of his father's friends. It gave enthusiastic, filled deceptive optimism. "Well, it's still ahead." You're young, successful, you have a handicap - handicap time. You imagined that it always will be. Under all and, therefore, relatively - best of all.

Then, gradually, the signals go - girl from HR is 88th. Municipal MP 89th. The owner of the popular youtube-channel 91-th, startups millionaire - 92 th.

And sweet languor vosmidesyatchestva fizzles. Youth is no longer an excuse. We have become a people with whom to compete in a youth bragging. In our youth, which is not. The number "30" at a rate approaching Japanese trains. For a long time it is time to sum up the results, and you're still acting like a teenager. Time pours like sand through your fingers, and you're still so young internally that can afford such a hackneyed comparison, not to mention the "sweet languor».

What's next? Cardiogram. Diet. Sedin. You are sculpted from clay army, they, their fingers encircling rectangle send the army into battle on the tablet. You taught English on a green bear Muzzy ("I'm Corvax!"), They are written in the English analytical articles in Foreign Affairs. I was afraid to know someone else's age, and think about how to hide his own. I gratefully look at the cashier asked me for documents and stretched suspicion - sent on the job, where you can see the arch-nine. Nine, the former first car of many of our fathers, but turned into a stamp, coat of arms, seal insolent youth who dared to grow up so quickly.

Time. You heartless bitch.
Hence