Rewind

I wrote this a while ago on my other blog, i just re-read it and thought how much it still applies yet how much i have disassociated from the image i was writing about. I feel like this entry defines my thoughts on the subject and on my experiences as a young person. I was thinking these same thoughts today when i came across this writing and i realised ive thought all these things before.


The awkwardness June 24th 2008
Theres alot of things i notice, ecspecially of late with a clear mind and clear eyes, i see things i dont think i used to. Well maybe i did, but i chose to ignore them because subconsiously i knew i was part of it all too.
We live in a society and culture of cool, a time where it matters what you look like, who you are, what you do, who you know, how you act. It would seem embarrassing to some that i even bring it up because if it is talked about then it is true, if i say it then i mustnt be cool, i musnt be a part of the charade that has become this place and this time because if i was then i wouldnt notice it all. Its as though we have all forgotten where we came from, what we are. All just people born, grown, fed, loved, hated, young, old, pretty, ugly. We are all the same species who came from our mothers wombs and who will one day die. Maybe we wont even get to grow old, some of us will die of cancer or in a car accident, some will have a heart attack too young, some will marry, some won't, some will die with a loving partner, they will die feeling loved and satisfied, others will die alone and sad. And thats the way it is, but we forget. And i watch it all like pictures on a screen, all these people so goodlooking, so desperate to be noticed and seen as different. You can smell it as they walk by, the intrinsic need to be accepted yet still seen as anti establishment, anti society, anti mainstream. And at first they all seem so fucking legitimate, I think to myself; what the fuck am i doing here? my clothes arent cool, my hairs not done, I havent heard of that band or that artist and i dont know that person. Im just a fucking human. But when you watch it all, really watch it you can see.. It comes with a flick of the hair, a cross of the legs or a glance of the eye. and i see it, i know the awkwardness because ive felt it. The nervouseness of not being comfortable in your own skin, of watching everybody else because maybe they have a better idea than you, maybe they can teach you something you dont already know that will make you seem more like the person you want to be. The girl with the hair bleached until its dead and coarse, black eye make up and red lipstick, she looks good and everybody tells her so, but she wishes deep down her hair felt soft and could grow longer, she wishes they all liked her without the make up and the high heels and the masks and costumes she uses every night, she secretly doesnt like this song but she dances and sings along anyway because evrybody else does and although everybody wants to be so fucking different you'd better not let them know that you dont agree.
We can dress it up as much as we like, we can make it smell differnt, look different, seeem different but underneath it all its just the same.
We froget where we came from, we all came from our mothers, we were born naked and bare without music or make up, we went to pre school, we were kids and none of us gave a shit about any of it, it was just about fun and being alive and appreciating anything and everything. We made it up as we went along, traits to make us stand out and seem different.
today we are too busy appreciating ourselves to see anything else.

Our behaviour masks our insecurities and our coolness masks the secret desire just to be accepted, by someone, by anyone. By everyone. Yet never wanting that desire to be known. We think behaving a certain way hides the awkwardness from evryone else, and usually it does. Most of the time you can get away with it, until someone just as awkward as you sees you looking around the room searching for an approving laugh or smile and you realise the only ones who matter are the ones whove seen the naked you, the one who isnt trying, the one part of you that might still be bare and un made, lost and confused, totally unaware of who you are yet. Thats what we all really are, but just masked by the false confidence.
All the same, but so terrified of being the same, always trying to fit in, but always trying to be different.
Sometimes someone finds out, and they know youre lost before you admit it to yourself and once you admit it everything becomes easier, everything makes sense and none of it matters anymore; you can be free to really discover who you are without the desire to be cool, without the need for someone to laugh at your jokes or tell you youre good, because it doesnt matter anyway.


Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendId=9535216&page=2#ixzz0tdHZY6ts