I feel the hostility and rage coursing through my body.
It's an infection that enables a diseased and sick mind.
If only I could fuel enough self control,
and cut all ties by ending its addiction.
Instead, I continue feeding it envy.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Hipster
“It ain't what they call you, it's what you answer to.”
-W.C. Fields
I first experienced the term 'hipster" when I moved to the big city from Middle-America. I was a naive, clean cut, fresh faced, nineteen year old struggling with sexual identity and a worrisome religion nit picking my brain.
It took me all of three weeks to be initiated into the big city. It was the week before school started and the campus was a buzz.
I lived a few blocks from the campus so I walked to school to purchase some books and skipped out, due to the overcrowded frenzy I witnessed.
I wasn't used to being alone, but was excited of the prospect of a potential career following my dreams of writing (something I had done since 1st grade.)
I took in the lush scenery of the park that surrounded the campus and was so happy to be in a place where I could truly find myself.
Ahead of me two men (one Black, one Hispanic) and a Caucasian girl crossed the street. The Black guy was rapping to himself while the girl hung on the arm of the Hispanic kid. They weren't much older than me.
It all happened really fast, but my initiation consisted of a punch to the side of the face and a kick in the leg.All I remembered while it happened was the girl screaming for them to stop. It was a sort of drive-by assault that didn't draw blood, just a swollen face. I had not provoked and they did not engage an further. It was an incredible act that left me confused, devastated and broken.
This was my first impression of the city.
For weeks after, I was afraid to be alone and no longer wanted to find myself outside the comfort of small town USA. It was a good year before I truly opened up and started inviting people in. I had tried dating here and there with the assistance of some good friends I had met, but was emotionally closed up.
It wasn't until I met my first love, that everything changed.
For years I relived the night we met in my head, over and over again. Not because I will never love like that again, but because until that moment I had never met a group of people, or person, who exposed me to such an exuberant and poetic way of life.
Until meeting him, and them, I had never heard the term "hipster" before.
At the time it was a term unknown to most people and one that didn't hold such a negative connotation as it does now. In a way, media has destroyed its reputation and made into a trend more than a statement.
Back when I was a young, love struck, 21-year-old I was Dorothy living in the black and white Kansas. It wasn't until I met a core group of friends that I was introduced to OZ in full HD and color.
Being a "hipster" wasn't about the trend setting, the music, the attitude, it was about being yourself. I'd be lying if I didn't come across a few assholes back then who were more about the scene, but they were pretty easy to sniff out.
Back then, a Hipster was someone who appreciated the aesthetics of life. The simple things that most people don't care, or think about today. Old was new, and free thinking and open minded living was the way of life. It wasn't about saying "fuck you" to anyone, but it was more about being comfortable with yourself and liking what you like. Truly living in the moment and appreciating the little things in life. Those moments you know you'll never get back.
For years I tried my hardest to be like this. In fact, for years I tried being my first boyfriend, but what I realized over the years was that it was all pointless. People come and go in your life that shape you into who you eventually become comfortable being. You can ride the wave of conformity and hide inside a closet or box, or you can feel free to be comfortable and dismiss labels and ideas of what you love is okay.
I've always felt like a weird kid. From the days when I would spin in circles for hours to experience the out of body dizziness, to walking through the park near my parents house alone and creating a new world in my head.
I had lost that sense of adventurousness and drive for danger. I was so used to being told "no" that a part of my fire died.
These are all things I felt encompassed a Hipster, in my day.
If you asked someone now, they'd say "nerdy glasses, attitude against main stream America, and vintage clothing."
I'm pleading for this way of thinking to end, because it's plaguing humanity.
A good friend recently said that it appears to be something that evolves over time and continues to be labeled. First were the beatniks, then the hippies, then the hipsters. Perhaps it's also part of the bohemian revolution.
I suppose within enough time the next craze will begin, but until then I reminisce on the days gone by.
An era that truly is over.
Live hard,
sit back and appreciate the little things.
Before you know it you may end up alone,
lost in your own memories,
plagued with regret,
sentenced with unhappiness.
-Me
-W.C. Fields
I first experienced the term 'hipster" when I moved to the big city from Middle-America. I was a naive, clean cut, fresh faced, nineteen year old struggling with sexual identity and a worrisome religion nit picking my brain.
It took me all of three weeks to be initiated into the big city. It was the week before school started and the campus was a buzz.
I lived a few blocks from the campus so I walked to school to purchase some books and skipped out, due to the overcrowded frenzy I witnessed.
I wasn't used to being alone, but was excited of the prospect of a potential career following my dreams of writing (something I had done since 1st grade.)
I took in the lush scenery of the park that surrounded the campus and was so happy to be in a place where I could truly find myself.
Ahead of me two men (one Black, one Hispanic) and a Caucasian girl crossed the street. The Black guy was rapping to himself while the girl hung on the arm of the Hispanic kid. They weren't much older than me.
It all happened really fast, but my initiation consisted of a punch to the side of the face and a kick in the leg.All I remembered while it happened was the girl screaming for them to stop. It was a sort of drive-by assault that didn't draw blood, just a swollen face. I had not provoked and they did not engage an further. It was an incredible act that left me confused, devastated and broken.
This was my first impression of the city.
For weeks after, I was afraid to be alone and no longer wanted to find myself outside the comfort of small town USA. It was a good year before I truly opened up and started inviting people in. I had tried dating here and there with the assistance of some good friends I had met, but was emotionally closed up.
It wasn't until I met my first love, that everything changed.
For years I relived the night we met in my head, over and over again. Not because I will never love like that again, but because until that moment I had never met a group of people, or person, who exposed me to such an exuberant and poetic way of life.
Until meeting him, and them, I had never heard the term "hipster" before.
At the time it was a term unknown to most people and one that didn't hold such a negative connotation as it does now. In a way, media has destroyed its reputation and made into a trend more than a statement.
Back when I was a young, love struck, 21-year-old I was Dorothy living in the black and white Kansas. It wasn't until I met a core group of friends that I was introduced to OZ in full HD and color.
Being a "hipster" wasn't about the trend setting, the music, the attitude, it was about being yourself. I'd be lying if I didn't come across a few assholes back then who were more about the scene, but they were pretty easy to sniff out.
Back then, a Hipster was someone who appreciated the aesthetics of life. The simple things that most people don't care, or think about today. Old was new, and free thinking and open minded living was the way of life. It wasn't about saying "fuck you" to anyone, but it was more about being comfortable with yourself and liking what you like. Truly living in the moment and appreciating the little things in life. Those moments you know you'll never get back.
For years I tried my hardest to be like this. In fact, for years I tried being my first boyfriend, but what I realized over the years was that it was all pointless. People come and go in your life that shape you into who you eventually become comfortable being. You can ride the wave of conformity and hide inside a closet or box, or you can feel free to be comfortable and dismiss labels and ideas of what you love is okay.
I've always felt like a weird kid. From the days when I would spin in circles for hours to experience the out of body dizziness, to walking through the park near my parents house alone and creating a new world in my head.
I had lost that sense of adventurousness and drive for danger. I was so used to being told "no" that a part of my fire died.
These are all things I felt encompassed a Hipster, in my day.
If you asked someone now, they'd say "nerdy glasses, attitude against main stream America, and vintage clothing."
I'm pleading for this way of thinking to end, because it's plaguing humanity.
A good friend recently said that it appears to be something that evolves over time and continues to be labeled. First were the beatniks, then the hippies, then the hipsters. Perhaps it's also part of the bohemian revolution.
I suppose within enough time the next craze will begin, but until then I reminisce on the days gone by.
An era that truly is over.
Live hard,
sit back and appreciate the little things.
Before you know it you may end up alone,
lost in your own memories,
plagued with regret,
sentenced with unhappiness.
-Me
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