By Saint Dirty Faceβ’
You can tell whoβs Gen X on Halloween β weβre the ones who donβt need a costume to look haunted. Weβve been carrying that existential eyeliner since 1989. While everyone else scrolls for last-minute Amazon costumes, weβre out here dusting off leather jackets that survived more revolutions than TikTok could handle.
We remember when Halloween meant freedom β the night the world looked weird enough to finally match our insides. No curated pumpkin-spice aesthetics, no βcontent strategy,β just a cheap mask, a trash bag cape, and enough angst to power a small substation.
Millennials had Hot Topic. Gen Z has algorithms.
We had rage and eyeliner, baby β and we made it fashion.
β οΈ The Ghosts We Still Dance With
We grew up on urban legends, VHS static, and the soundtrack of rebellion: Alice in Chains, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden. Every power chord was a spell, every scream a sermon.
Our Halloween parties were half sΓ©ance, half therapy β candles flickering in beer bottles, mixtapes looping between the sacred and the profane.
The real monster under the bed wasnβt Freddy or Jason β it was mediocrity. And we swore weβd never become that.
(Okay, fine β now we pay mortgages and yell at thermostats, but our inner demon still listens to Ministry.)
π©Έ The Trick and the Treat
Hereβs the trick: The world told us to grow up.
Hereβs the treat: We never did.
We wear our scars like badges, our sarcasm like armor.
We still believe rebellion isnβt about chaos β itβs about choice.
Itβs saying no when everyone else sells their soul for a discount.
So this Halloween, when the fog rolls in and the porch lights flicker, remember β Gen X doesnβt need saving. We are the haunting.
Weβre the middle children of history, raised by broken dreams and mixtapes, still walking through the fire with a cigarette, a smirk, and one mantra echoing in the dark:
Stay Dirty. Stay Rebellious.β’
Happy Halloween, you beautiful ghosts.
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Saint Dirty Faceβ’
[Stay Dirty, Stay Rebelliousβ’]
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