Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance
And vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs
You know nothing about art or sex
That you couldn’t read in any trendy New York underground fashion magazine
Prototypical non-conformist
You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store Gestapo
You adhere to a set of standards and tastes
That appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges
Giving a thumbs up or thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art
Go analog baby, you’re so post-modern
You’re diving face forward into a antiquated path
It’s disgusting, its offensive, don’t stick your nose up at me
I'm young and restless.
I have my whole life ahead of me, and I'm not going to mess it up.
As much as I like to think I've found myself, I'm still searching.
Aren't we all?
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow pointless conversation
Oh, we’re not worthy
When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff
It's the same superiority complex
Shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell
And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma
You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about
I'm not unique.
The only reason I 'stand out' to you is because I'm real.
I don't let opinions of other people ruin who I am.
I don't care what crowd I'm with, or whos watching me.
I'm one of the few who can actually think for themself.
I'm a bitch. Everyone will vouche for that.
If you really want to know more, ask.
I'll talk to you, most likely.
On that note, take my hand- let me lead you to hell.
"I could feel my sudden aloneness in my gut, like a punch, and I sat back in my chair, dropping my hands from the keyboard, now aware of how empty the room, the house, the neighborhood, the world, was all around me. It was like being on the other side of a frame and seeing the camera pull back, showing me growing smaller, smaller, smaller still until I was just a speck, a spot, gone."
AbiTheArsonist
