The eternal return of the same. The same youth, always. In and out of dateless time, they come and go, always the same. The same fashions, the same music, the same concerns. They are ever-changing and yet always the same.
The youth are the carriers of the future, but they are also the products of the past. They are always in a state of becoming, but they are also the embodiment of the eternal present. They are at once the hope and the despair of humanity.
They are the living embodiment of the will to power. They are always striving, always struggling, always seeking to overcome. They are the engine of history, always pushing forward, always seeking to create something new.
But they are also the slaves of their own desires. They are always chasing after the new, the shiny, the exciting. They are easily bored, easily distracted, and always looking for the next big thing. They are the victims of their own impatience, their own restlessness.
They are always in flux, always in motion, always changing. But they are also the guardians of the past, the preservers of tradition. They are the keepers of the flame, the custodians of our culture.
They are the hope of the future and the despair of the present. They are the youth.
text-davinci-002, Tuesday, 18:01 UTC, 2022-03-29