.....yeah.
Apr. 22nd, 2004 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkaAm I getting old? I'm getting old, aren't I. Or maybe just jaded, which is actually scarier. I don't want to be jaded. It's like... brain-rot, or something. When your mind becomes stiff and you can't stretch it to change it anymore. You might as well sell it at a second-hand store or something. But.
People who write about being "edgy" or "counter-culture" are starting to make me groan. Yes, groan.
Kinda scary, 'cause I'm the girl who looks at the dorkiest pink-haired bozo in the Village and gets a starry gleam in her eye. I honestly feel like they're cooler than I am on some basic level of intrinstic -chic-. I swear to god, I eat that stuff up. It's everything glamorous and decadent and fast-burning and... everything I'm not. I don't know -when- I decided I'll never be cool, but I did decide it, I think. I'm not even one of those people who -liked- the idea of geekery... you know, once you think being a geek is cool (and I've been there), you're no longer a geek, really. It's just that simple. Low self-esteem is part of the package, man. Well, it's that or megalomania.
It's no excuse to say that you -have- to be outrageous and wild just because you're "different". It doesn't matter if you're depressive or manic or gay or "rebellious artist" or what, if you're not outgoing-- or more like, if you're not an exhibitionist. Plenty of us nutsos don't stand out at all. Personally, I've always liked that and yet always yearned to escape the clutches of this thrice-damned invisibility. Of course... then I wouldn't know what to do with it. People puzzle me. And... well... that's what it's all about, isn't it.
If I was more outgoing... okay, if I was outgoing at -all-, then it might be different. I might decide I could wear my weird on my outside. I could attract like-minded individuals in that faraway, mythical land we of the Net like to call "rl". You know it doesn't really exist, don't you.
I'm just reading ggreg.com, which is a site for the drag-queen Bohemians among us, or... something. Got it from a link from the Webby awards, which both lj & Fiction Alley have been nominated for. When I saw that about the FA, I pretty much squealed. Heh. It's so sad.
One of the main problems is, what people call "counterculture" is largely composed of posers, these days. The only way to avoid it is to have it be small, really. Barely known. I mean, people just go overboard with it, to the point where -looking- different is more important than -being- different. Sort of how in regular society, you're supposed to -look- the same to signify that you -are- the same. It's such a joke. Cool clothes or "normal" clothes, cool make-up or no make-up... it's all the same.
It's funny, because for most of my adolescence, I've yearned to be part of something. Part of the "It" group. Probably the happiest period in my life was when I felt I was part of CoRE, which is the "geek" special housing module in Binghamton. I mean, I didn't even hang out with them much, but I lived with them and I felt like I -was- "CoRE". It's kind of sad and sweet at the same time. Sort of the way I love being part of the HP slash fandom, 'cause I -do- feel a kinship... I loveloveloveloveloved seeing you guys at the con last summer... but at the same time, there's all this... I dunno... socialness which I still can't fully dig. I'm destined to be a lone potato, I guess.
I just feel this pang, seeing accounts of people who truly become part of a culture I feel so envious of. It's like... there's all this talk of outsiderness, and yet they're not outsiders, 'cause they have each other, man. They have a community, and that's everything, and I've never had that, and I probably never will. I'm sure they know all about loneliness and being different and... I'm still certain they don't know what it's like being -really- alone, 'cause that's when you -want- to be (and don't want to be, at the same time).
I dunno. I always wanted to be a freak. It seems so simple, somehow. Visually identifiable, I mean. People know what they're getting. You invent a persona and you are -It-. There's no real introspection once you decide what kind of freak you are, is there. You go to a drag nightclub or something, and you pretend you know exactly who you are. You put on your raver clothes and you're a raver. You go to the folk-singer's coffee-shop and you're the lesbian grrl-poet or whatever. Seems easy enough in theory. That's how my imagination goes, anyway. You find the get-up, figure out your designated haunts and voila! You have an identity. I've always envied this (like I said, I'm not speaking from any moral high-ground, here).
Ahahah, I should've known it would never be so easy, not if I actually had to -think- about it so much. In a way, I guess counterculture persona-building is all about stopping this sort of silly introspection bullshit. Well, more power to them, y'know. It's not like I enjoy it. They say they have fun, on the other hand. Well, fun with their angst, anyway. Everyone has their own bottled pre-packaged angst that comes with the path they take. There's sales-executive angst and there's drag-queen angst and there's English-major-with-no-job angst-- etc, etc.
The bullshit part of it is what gets to me. The fact that people pretend they're not pretending. The fact that they buy into their own hyperbole. Everyone does this, though. The hemp-necklace-wearing English majors and the cleancut fraternity people and all the rest. Everyone has their shtick. I think it's just part of being a social creature-- I mean, people need -some- way to identify you, to figure out where you belong, and so do you. You can't have a society of pure rugged individuals very easily, can you. *sigh*
Maybe it's actually just a question of talent. If you're good with words or pictures or music or... anything, it doesn't matter what culture you're supposedly a part of, because you're a star. You transcend it. You're unique and you're alone by definition. It's not a comfortable existence, but... it's worth it, I think. Brilliance is its own reward. Hey, you could have fun in a sensory deprivation chamber if you wanted to. That's something, isn't it?
Eh. I really admire people who're "out there". Whose personalities blaze and shimmer, and whose words reach even those who don't want to listen. That's the real cool, man. Being yourself and part of a movement while you're at it. You kind of define the movement rather than let it define -you-. That's what it's all about.
'Course, I'll never be like that. Heh. I mean, I wouldn't say I'm stuck in the lower bowels of normality and saneness or anything, and I've my own flair for the dramatic when I choose to use it, but it all gets buried in the undertow of my sheer laziness, I think. It's much, much easier to watch than to -be-, really. And I'm a watcher. I'm one of those who skulk rather than prowl. On the outskirts, the sidelines, the back row right next to the curtains. Not where the shady scary people hide, no... more like where the flowers grow in the cracks in the asphalt. Although that probably makes no sense.
I suppose these days, I aspire to be something of a cross between Bones McCoy and Popeye. I yam what I yam, and that's all there is to it, duder.
People who write about being "edgy" or "counter-culture" are starting to make me groan. Yes, groan.
Kinda scary, 'cause I'm the girl who looks at the dorkiest pink-haired bozo in the Village and gets a starry gleam in her eye. I honestly feel like they're cooler than I am on some basic level of intrinstic -chic-. I swear to god, I eat that stuff up. It's everything glamorous and decadent and fast-burning and... everything I'm not. I don't know -when- I decided I'll never be cool, but I did decide it, I think. I'm not even one of those people who -liked- the idea of geekery... you know, once you think being a geek is cool (and I've been there), you're no longer a geek, really. It's just that simple. Low self-esteem is part of the package, man. Well, it's that or megalomania.
It's no excuse to say that you -have- to be outrageous and wild just because you're "different". It doesn't matter if you're depressive or manic or gay or "rebellious artist" or what, if you're not outgoing-- or more like, if you're not an exhibitionist. Plenty of us nutsos don't stand out at all. Personally, I've always liked that and yet always yearned to escape the clutches of this thrice-damned invisibility. Of course... then I wouldn't know what to do with it. People puzzle me. And... well... that's what it's all about, isn't it.
If I was more outgoing... okay, if I was outgoing at -all-, then it might be different. I might decide I could wear my weird on my outside. I could attract like-minded individuals in that faraway, mythical land we of the Net like to call "rl". You know it doesn't really exist, don't you.
I'm just reading ggreg.com, which is a site for the drag-queen Bohemians among us, or... something. Got it from a link from the Webby awards, which both lj & Fiction Alley have been nominated for. When I saw that about the FA, I pretty much squealed. Heh. It's so sad.
One of the main problems is, what people call "counterculture" is largely composed of posers, these days. The only way to avoid it is to have it be small, really. Barely known. I mean, people just go overboard with it, to the point where -looking- different is more important than -being- different. Sort of how in regular society, you're supposed to -look- the same to signify that you -are- the same. It's such a joke. Cool clothes or "normal" clothes, cool make-up or no make-up... it's all the same.
It's funny, because for most of my adolescence, I've yearned to be part of something. Part of the "It" group. Probably the happiest period in my life was when I felt I was part of CoRE, which is the "geek" special housing module in Binghamton. I mean, I didn't even hang out with them much, but I lived with them and I felt like I -was- "CoRE". It's kind of sad and sweet at the same time. Sort of the way I love being part of the HP slash fandom, 'cause I -do- feel a kinship... I loveloveloveloveloved seeing you guys at the con last summer... but at the same time, there's all this... I dunno... socialness which I still can't fully dig. I'm destined to be a lone potato, I guess.
I just feel this pang, seeing accounts of people who truly become part of a culture I feel so envious of. It's like... there's all this talk of outsiderness, and yet they're not outsiders, 'cause they have each other, man. They have a community, and that's everything, and I've never had that, and I probably never will. I'm sure they know all about loneliness and being different and... I'm still certain they don't know what it's like being -really- alone, 'cause that's when you -want- to be (and don't want to be, at the same time).
I dunno. I always wanted to be a freak. It seems so simple, somehow. Visually identifiable, I mean. People know what they're getting. You invent a persona and you are -It-. There's no real introspection once you decide what kind of freak you are, is there. You go to a drag nightclub or something, and you pretend you know exactly who you are. You put on your raver clothes and you're a raver. You go to the folk-singer's coffee-shop and you're the lesbian grrl-poet or whatever. Seems easy enough in theory. That's how my imagination goes, anyway. You find the get-up, figure out your designated haunts and voila! You have an identity. I've always envied this (like I said, I'm not speaking from any moral high-ground, here).
Ahahah, I should've known it would never be so easy, not if I actually had to -think- about it so much. In a way, I guess counterculture persona-building is all about stopping this sort of silly introspection bullshit. Well, more power to them, y'know. It's not like I enjoy it. They say they have fun, on the other hand. Well, fun with their angst, anyway. Everyone has their own bottled pre-packaged angst that comes with the path they take. There's sales-executive angst and there's drag-queen angst and there's English-major-with-no-job angst-- etc, etc.
The bullshit part of it is what gets to me. The fact that people pretend they're not pretending. The fact that they buy into their own hyperbole. Everyone does this, though. The hemp-necklace-wearing English majors and the cleancut fraternity people and all the rest. Everyone has their shtick. I think it's just part of being a social creature-- I mean, people need -some- way to identify you, to figure out where you belong, and so do you. You can't have a society of pure rugged individuals very easily, can you. *sigh*
Maybe it's actually just a question of talent. If you're good with words or pictures or music or... anything, it doesn't matter what culture you're supposedly a part of, because you're a star. You transcend it. You're unique and you're alone by definition. It's not a comfortable existence, but... it's worth it, I think. Brilliance is its own reward. Hey, you could have fun in a sensory deprivation chamber if you wanted to. That's something, isn't it?
Eh. I really admire people who're "out there". Whose personalities blaze and shimmer, and whose words reach even those who don't want to listen. That's the real cool, man. Being yourself and part of a movement while you're at it. You kind of define the movement rather than let it define -you-. That's what it's all about.
'Course, I'll never be like that. Heh. I mean, I wouldn't say I'm stuck in the lower bowels of normality and saneness or anything, and I've my own flair for the dramatic when I choose to use it, but it all gets buried in the undertow of my sheer laziness, I think. It's much, much easier to watch than to -be-, really. And I'm a watcher. I'm one of those who skulk rather than prowl. On the outskirts, the sidelines, the back row right next to the curtains. Not where the shady scary people hide, no... more like where the flowers grow in the cracks in the asphalt. Although that probably makes no sense.
I suppose these days, I aspire to be something of a cross between Bones McCoy and Popeye. I yam what I yam, and that's all there is to it, duder.
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-22 09:14 pm (UTC)One of my favorite hobbies is to search around and see who else in my town is on LJ. Today I stumbled across the LJ of this girl I secretly admire, because she's one of those alternative people who just radiates 'cool' and a bit of pretention while maintaining friendliness. She posted pictures of a time she and her friend walked along a nature trail in prom dresses, and took pictures, and I just yearned so bad to be that kind of free, to really experience that youth they're always talking about. I feel like a drone in my little box compared to these kids - they seem so alive, that kind of alive the adults always remember, the alive poets reminisce over, the kind all the songs sing about - and I feel so boring and bland in comparison. But, like you, I'm more of a lone potato, and I just end up here reading historical fiction and studying Spanish verbs. I'm the girl in neutral colors always grasping for the brightly colored costumes. This was a ridiculous waste of space in your LJ, sorry, but wow, even if I didn't express myself properly and you think I'm talking about something else, believe me, you aren't alone in feeling this way. Your timing is positively uncanny.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-23 07:18 pm (UTC)Alive, yes. Well, you know, I do feel alive, reading... and thinking... and all that. Using my imagination. It's not sneeze-worthy, exactly. Just more introverted :D
I still want to, though. Escape all my books and things and go out into the wild blue yonder, where the ocean stretches to infinity and one becomes... a truer version of oneself. For some reason, I associate this with nature and exercise and getting my feet wet rather than... y'know... putting on my dancin' shoes. But to each their own.
We can be lone potatoes together, if that's even possible. Possibly we could consider ourselves in the same garden >:D
no subject
Date: 2004-04-23 09:43 pm (UTC)and don't talk to me about the ocean! my best friend used to make fun of me, because every time i went to the water, i'd just kind of stand there and i don't know, pretend i was a mermaid or a nymph or something bigger than myself.
you make me forget about my caps lock. -_-
no subject
Date: 2004-04-24 01:57 pm (UTC)I totally pretend I'm a mermaid when I swim if it's in the sea. Have since I was little. There's just... something... it's like it's not just salty water, or exercise... I can't take it as lightly as most people do :> Not that I go all Buddhist or anything ("ohmmm"... well that wouldn't really work underwater anyway). But. I can feel it, definitely. It's like it's more alive than I am. Or differently alive. Scary, almost. But yes :D
<3! It's so good to see/hear from you, 'cause. Well. Since I've been in self-made lj quarantine, I haven't heard from you in -months- now. Naturally, a normal person would just like... go over and read the lj in question, but I'm far from normal, so I just sigh and go "I wonder how she's doing"~:)
no subject
Date: 2004-04-24 03:39 pm (UTC)Whenever I get to the ocean I just want to swim with the dolphins and seals. Have you ever seen the movie The Secret of Roan Inish? You'd probably love it. I do get scared by the ocean, though. I'm not a very good swimmer, so when I get pulled under, it's hard for me to breach again. Instead I'll sit on the beach and just watch. One of the best things about living here is that I'm near Santa Cruz, which has some of the most romantic beaches ever. Everybody else goes to the Boardwalk and Wharf areas, but there are so many other public beach areas with nobody there, and they're my favorites. One time I found this little area with great populations of jellyfish washing up on shore (some part of their natural cycle, my friend's mom - a nature studier person - told me) and these magnificent eroded rocks jutting right out of the sand. It was amazing. I sat there for hours and just listening to the swelling. Um. Damn these tangents.
I missed you too! I am the same way. I missed all your punctuation marks and deep thoughts. ♥