Not to be a downer, but I think we can all agree the “American Dream” has turned into a full-blown nightmare for those of us of a certain age.

You know who I’m talking about, the “Elder Millennials”. We grew up in a moment of analog magic. A little anonymity. A little room to breathe. We lived for the now. The thrill of walking away with physical concert tickets after camping out at Smithtix felt like winning the damn lottery. The devastation when the VCR ate our favorite movie was real.

“Studying” at your best friend’s house really meant making out in your boyfriend’s basement, because “Find My Phone” was more like, fuck, where’s my car?

And somehow we could never peel the shrink wrap off the CD we saved two weeks of our allowance for fast enough, just so we could lock ourselves in our rooms and memorize every lyric as it played on repeat.

Meanwhile, cue the ’rents:

“Go to college. Get the degree. Land the job. Find your soulmate. Buy the house. Have 2.5 kids.”

...Though, if you grew up in Utah and you identify as a woman, let’s be real: housewife is pretty much the pinnacle of adulthood. 2.5 kids? Try 6.

But what if none of that was my dream?

FADE IN: A Generation on the Brink

The truth? That version of adulthood was never mine.
It was someone else’s dream, handed down like a dusty heirloom we were supposed to cherish. And even after we dusted it off, it still wasn’t as shiny as promised.

What we got sold started to feel more like a trap.
And if you dared to want something different, something messy, creative, or loud, you were either selfish, delusional, or just plain lost.

CUT TO: Millennial Burnout in Real Time

You get up. Sit in traffic. Smile for people who don't know you.
Make a deck. Redo that deck.
Update the spreadsheet.
Get lost in the seventh circle of hell that is your team's document drive, trying to find the mislabeled version of the PowerPoint you need for the meeting in five minutes.
Eat lunch with coworkers out of obligation to be seen as a “team player”.
Watch the tech bro who stole your idea get promoted.
Work overtime that no one notices.
Eat cereal for dinner because the thought of mixing more than three ingredients together is beyond your mental capacity.
Pass out.
Repeat.

We’re a generation surviving one “unprecedented event” after another.
We’re drowning in student debt because the job market collapsed while the housing market gave us the finger.

The corporate ladder? Somehow both missing rungs and greased with sexism.

Reality TV replaced well-crafted drama with women literally screaming at each other for screen time, and being famous for existing became aspirational.
Social media taught us to measure our worth in likes. Movies and music got churned up and spit out by the corporate machine.
Sequels, prequels, and spin-offs, oh my!
A massive online presence is now a prerequisite for a band to book a venue where the hope is to at least break even.

Fascism is not just at our doorstep; it’s inside the house, holding us at gunpoint. The potential for war lurks around every corner. Democracy is doing a death roll, and the term “presidential” has lost all meaning.

Meanwhile, we're updating the same spreadsheet for the fifth time because leadership still doesn’t know what they want.

Dark Night of the Soul: Create or Die

Not to get all “woe is me,” but a shitty hand is a shitty hand.
So you make the best of it, somehow.
You find your little escape hatches, the outlets that let you feel alive, even if it’s just for a few hours at a time.

Mine aren’t revolutionary:

Live music
Movies
Video games
Soap operas
Books
Nature

All places that let my imagination run wild.
Places that feel thrilling, mysterious, hopeful, and somehow safe.

Maybe that’s what this whole MAD-Life-Crisis is about.
Not just mourning the loss of the American Dream, but choosing to dream something different.
Something that’s just mine.

My pixelated passions played out in The Sims.

My adventurous spirit, inspired by life on the road.

My happy place at the barricade, sweaty, singing, and sore.

My little corner of the Internet where I bring my dreams to life.

L.S. Dunes stage setup with Violet backdrop.

SMASH CUT: Burning the Burnout

Because the American Dream isn’t just dead.
It’s rotting, and it smells worse than a 2002 Warped Tour porta-potty after 4pm in the hot California sun.

So how do you wake up?

You bust out your most angst-filled playlist (the one you made after you got home from Warped Tour, high on life from the sweaty pit and the singer’s beer still in your hair), and crank it up to 11.

Scream “Damn the man, save the Empire!”

And chase your dream like your life depends on it, because maybe it does.

FADE OUT?

MADStarlet Studios: “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes”

This blog? This site? This whole messy, rebellious digital studio? It’s my protest.

It’s where I reclaim my time, my stories, my voice, and maybe help you reclaim yours too.

Whether I’m building fantasy lives in The Sims, following live music across the country, or writing cinematic stories that remix reality, this space is a “fuck you” to burnout culture and a love letter to creative freedom.

So stick around. Explore. Subscribe.

Create with me.

Because this MAD-Life-Crisis?
It’s not the end.
It’s the origin story.