And he'll measure his freedom in fractions of an hour and wonder all the time if the average person the same one that spends more time with coworkers than family and friends also dies unhappy or at the very least unfulfilled and if so if the average person is on average unhappy for the average length of their lives are we, on average, doing something very wrong?
And he'll learn to budget in the age of autodeductions as common bill pay procedure. As if some company storing his banking information is a convenience rather than a glaring imposition. His personal life is on sale at the cost of retweets and likes but as long as people are watching he'll be able to pretend he's not so ******* alone.
And the weather will change and the oceans will rise and fall and spring may disappear and summer may reign. And he'll be the last generation that remembers how it was and he'll wonder how the youth around him can take so much of it for granted. He'll wonder how they can find it all so normal.
My grandfathers were born in villages in other countries. Their first homes had no toilets. They were young orphans on American streets, once. When my father was born no single man had been to the moon. When I was born school shootings were unheard of and most homes had no computer and a landline.
I wonder how he'll be. I hope he'll be okay. And he will, even though. We always seem to be. But still...