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Monday, January 19, 2004
relishing>> July For Kings - Start Again 
Random rant. Think you're lookin' sharp, strutting 'round town sporting those flashy Nike kicks, grungy bleached Levi's and chic crossover-label jacket. Doing your utmost to look smooth, you scheme, scour and scrutinize the area for 'rival' street fashion enthusiasts and marks of what they term 'players'. You pore members of the public all over from head-to-toe, gaining personal satisfaction from placing shallow appraisals on people based on exterior outlook. "Man, these dudes dress like hippies of yesteryear," you subtly utter to yourself, "these muthafuckas don't got style like me." As you indulge in your own world of contemptuous mirth, you unwittingly bypass the non-explicit characteristics of a person. You stare stridently at everyone, hoping to spot lucidrous stereotypes and cause intimidation. The whole world's shakin' upon the gaze of The Inimitable Individual, You. Well it's actually the simplest of tasks to categorize people like you. You look like another lad who is similar to this other guy who bears resemblence to that mofo you thought you saw two days ago. You guys resemble templates of one another! Seemingly 'extravagant' on the exterior. Hideous and desperating lacking self-confidence deep inside. Putting up a mere facade, a deceptive front just to feign a 'stylish' personality. Alternative, deviant, you might call it. But sorry, this particular style has become so mainstream, are you still deeming Linkin Park an underground band? Face it, you aren't a pioneer. Chances are, you don't know jackshit 'bout anything. Punks, pills, pot, booze, lies, crime, hiphop and fuck authority. You read, hear and talk about it, but really, you're probably someone who's never experienced anything substantial enough to start swankin' about it. In the words of Pay The Girl, you're simply braggin' 'bout your pedigree, not recognising your subconscious transformation into a fucked up rich-bitch wannabe. There is nothing wrong with patronizing labels you support. You do look pretty hip, dressed like a neat good-looker on the go. But espousing all these sick values and obsession in these material stuff has only made you a mindless, foolish follower of fashion trends. You're certainly acting like a victim of blatant commercialism, unknowingly assuming the role of a pawn in a modern fashion mogul's game. And please, don't stare at me with those eyes again. Now that someone's shed some light (and rage) on this issue, welcome back to the real world sucker. rayve said @ 2:29 AM |
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Rayve
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