Dot in the Sky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dotinthesky) wrote2003-10-21 02:42 pm
dotinthesky) wrote2003-10-21 02:42 pm
The Devil Inside - how much for it?
Do we wear dark clothes in the winter
because we want to blend in?
because we don't want anyone paying attention to us?
I was thinking about my previous post... those words were all directed to myself (of course) because I've been noticing lately, when I see a reflection of myself in mirrors, windows, how much i look like any other generic worker in this city. All that struggle when I was a teenager/early 20s to stand out... well, it was in vain. Welcome to the grind machine - everyone becomes the same.
Unless you have no money/too much money.
But I do know some people who have overcome style and incorporated it as a part of themselves. They become more than the genres they adore, they attain some kind of cultural holy grail because they are sticking to their desire to be different from the herd. It's incredibly difficult to do that, I think, the older you get. It's something you have to be lucky to fall into when you are young, when your view of the world is being shaped. Because then it becomes easy to follow those rules that are not the rules for everyone else - it becomes second nature.
As for myself, I never got over all the travelling and moving. I was too busy trying to make friends/keep friends, too busy adapting to the new school/new country, that I just didn't have time to not care about my peers. Also, I was brought up in Sao Paulo, Brazil, in the middle of a suburb (Zona Sul) where you only became a human being if you wore Nike, brand-name jeans, T-shirt from Forum/MOfficer, etc. If you didn't have those things, you were shit. And you had to listen to crap music (which I confess I liked - I'm gay so I can say that). There was one exception: it still surprises me today that my brother and I had The Clash's "Combat Rock" on vinyl when we were 10. I don't know where that influence came from.
Maybe I'm setting myself free by writing these words down. I hope so. If not, if I'm still a prisoner somehow, then it's up to you to perform all those rituals/voodoos that might set me free.
Go ahead, find a black chicken.
because we want to blend in?
because we don't want anyone paying attention to us?
I was thinking about my previous post... those words were all directed to myself (of course) because I've been noticing lately, when I see a reflection of myself in mirrors, windows, how much i look like any other generic worker in this city. All that struggle when I was a teenager/early 20s to stand out... well, it was in vain. Welcome to the grind machine - everyone becomes the same.
Unless you have no money/too much money.
But I do know some people who have overcome style and incorporated it as a part of themselves. They become more than the genres they adore, they attain some kind of cultural holy grail because they are sticking to their desire to be different from the herd. It's incredibly difficult to do that, I think, the older you get. It's something you have to be lucky to fall into when you are young, when your view of the world is being shaped. Because then it becomes easy to follow those rules that are not the rules for everyone else - it becomes second nature.
As for myself, I never got over all the travelling and moving. I was too busy trying to make friends/keep friends, too busy adapting to the new school/new country, that I just didn't have time to not care about my peers. Also, I was brought up in Sao Paulo, Brazil, in the middle of a suburb (Zona Sul) where you only became a human being if you wore Nike, brand-name jeans, T-shirt from Forum/MOfficer, etc. If you didn't have those things, you were shit. And you had to listen to crap music (which I confess I liked - I'm gay so I can say that). There was one exception: it still surprises me today that my brother and I had The Clash's "Combat Rock" on vinyl when we were 10. I don't know where that influence came from.
Maybe I'm setting myself free by writing these words down. I hope so. If not, if I'm still a prisoner somehow, then it's up to you to perform all those rituals/voodoos that might set me free.
Go ahead, find a black chicken.
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