Gen.ZM e.V. [E]

Ok, you got me… The dude trying to sell you on how important creative thinking is turns out to be too uncreative—or just too dumb—to come up with a new name. You already know Gen.ZM. My online presence has that name; the blog you’re on right now is called www.gen-zm.com; and now I get to deliver the joyful news that the associated club also carries the same name. Gen.ZM. Pretty lame, right?

After we’ve complained enough about this fact, let me move on to explain what’s supposed to grow from this pile of “manure.” Because manure isn’t always stupid—sometimes it’s the fertilizer for fantastic things. In this case, though, it’s more like regular old boring manure. Anyway, here’s my little story to warm you up…

Let’s quickly whip up a completely fictional story, one that has absolutely nothing to do with me, and then you can see how much of what’s described either applies to you personally or reflects the world around you. Forgive me if it sounds too absurd or unrealistic at times—every now and then I’m drawn to the fantastic. Fair warning!

Imagine you were born in a German-speaking country… areas with their own dialects count too, even if they hardly resemble the language anymore. Ok, let’s put it differently: you were born in Germany. Picture this scenario in your head. Now, if you’re still with me, let’s take another step. You weren’t just born here, frozen in a time-space continuum and blessed with eternal childhood—you also had the same misfortune as the rest of us: you got older. But for our story, you don’t even have to get that old; let’s just hit pause at the best part—your teenage years. Sure, we might carry a grudge against the school system, the dorks in our class, or sometimes even our parents, but all in all, life’s not bad. We’re young German citizens of a Western-influenced country, at the peak of its economic system (as of 2025), and we have no clue about life yet… probably for the better. So, what do we do in these wild years?

To prevent our creative thinking from spiraling out of control, plunging us into deep reflection or forcing us to dig up old memories, I’d better set the stage quickly for safety reasons. We’re totally clueless and only have a handful of interests to cling to. We’ve been playing a sport for a few years—not exactly the coolest thing—but we’re starting to realize that “cool” might look different. The only books we’ve touched were school assignments, so the whole paper-and-ink thing feels alien and far-fetched. But hey, we know a few cool people. School is full of them—a ton of human beings, all with their own humor and stories to share. Sometimes we swap them in a friendly and enthusiastic way; other times we sharpen our words like tiny spears. Wild years indeed.

But you know what really sucks? In our thought experiment, when we go home—to eat, walk the dog, report to our parents (in our finest poetic form) how enriching and wonderful the education they pay for has been—and we hit the gym a couple of times a week, there’s still a big piece missing from our free time. Where are our friends chilling? Ok, maybe in this story it’s not a problem at all. Did I mention that our character might be growing up in the present day? No? Well, now you know. Here’s another fact: we own a smartphone, and the house has a big screen with streaming services. So, if you were worried we might get bored, I can reassure you… But let me ask: did you assume our character had a screen and a phone?

So boredom isn’t an issue—the social network and the greatest invention of our time, the internet, have taken care of that. I’m describing something to us that would have seemed impossible to someone just a few decades ago… because we get home and have already exchanged messages with four friends on the way—yes, even sent pictures. By the afternoon, we’ve already heard the voice of our best friend through electric waves and had a whole conversation. Meanwhile, we ate dinner, hung up the laundry, and checked in on people online we don’t even know personally but have been giving our attention to for ages. In theory, our social battery is fully charged, and based on neuroscience, our dopamine should be taking us to new levels of ecstasy. We’re so social, so connected; aren’t we living the human dream? Shouldn’t we feel fulfilled? So, how are we doing?

Since you were old enough, you’ve been drinking alcohol. Ok, at sixteen—but of course, you tried a little before that. It’s all pretty funny and it gets you out more often. You remember sitting alone in your dark room just a year ago, watching movies, YouTube, and TikTok. Now, at least on weekends, you get out. And tipsy, you dare to do way more than usual. It feels like you’ve really bloomed… luckily, no one asks how you actually feel.

You’ve discovered the social side of drinking, which means you can now go to bars and clubs—filling your evenings even more. Isn’t that fantastic? You’ve got your little city life, a handful of like-minded people nearby, but you can text or call anyone who matters to you. And if you want to meet people in person, you just hang out in front of one of the two bars in your area. Lit… Do you dare go out alone and do things on your own?

Ok, I think I can cut the rambling and speak more directly… parents, kids. Tell me—are you serious?! Are we really letting an entire generation be enslaved by a metal box? Do we really have to suppress our individuality, our creative spirit, our pursuit of fulfillment, just to blend in and stay compatible? Do people really have to be alone? Does alcohol really have to be, aside from work, the main reason we gather? Where is our art, the joy of play, the sense of togetherness, the reading and writing about our own existence, the conversations about perception, religious frameworks, biology and its wonders, about traveling the world? Are we pretending that life’s beauty simply fades at some point and eventually dries up completely—just because there’s no place where we can live out our deepest wishes? Are we supposed to give up and, numbed by distractions, become part of a waterfall plunging into the abyss? Just because the world around us is made sick by money, work, and grim information about this planet, doesn’t mean we have to choose the same suffering out of solidarity. How about becoming part of the perspective—and the hope—instead? What if we came together to build the framework people are missing, to make life at least a little happier? Why not start a club where cultures and age groups meet, a place without technology, filled only with human values—not money. A place where we know others are waiting for us when we don’t want to be alone at night—when we’re tired of sitting in bed crying, staring at a screen hour after hour that changes nothing.

Maybe I got it wrong, but I used to think we only had one life. And I always wanted all of us to make the best of it. To get the most out of ourselves and our time. To grow unstoppably and reach for the stars. To unfold, to discover artistic creation for ourselves. To try things, and in the end consciously choose what we hope for in life, instead of stumbling into the next best job by chance. Does that flame still exist—or has it been smothered by the flickering screen? Can we still be human? Do we still possess our innate creativity? Do we think we can achieve more than we do right now—or has society and our past life already shrunk us down?

Are we at the end—or the beginning.
Get a grip and join Gen.ZM e.V.