This is a Mission Statement
So first off, it’s just weird that we all know each other, and I know it’s kind of a paradox to say that anyone really knows anybody else because all our interior monologues all our troublesome thoughts of tomorrow are uniquely different. But we do know everybody. We know them as people we don’t know, people who pass us by or stand four feet away from us, three persons over. We know them as the people who are better at faking it, or pretending like they have it all figured out. We all know everybody else in the sense of who they know, who they’ve thought they were in love with, fucked, hung out with, got shitty with, and picked up the pieces afterwards.
We all know everybody in the sense of who they dislike or are at least going along with the trend of disliking. We know them as signatures, as words without faces, as faces without names, as cliché boundaries and disgruntled looks from nearby distances. We know them as friends and lovers or possibly in the hypothetical senses of the words. We know them as loud and boisterous one moment and as a slow receding chalk line the next. We avoid people, we write them out of our lives, we walk past them with our heads down and we talk about them like they’re next to us, or most of the time because we know they’re not occupying the space around us. Yet despite all this knowing and the sense of knowing, we’re all something. We’re bound together by some mutual understanding of where this gigantic bubble is spinning, and in that way, we’re all sort of stuck to it.
Lately I’ve been thinking about all the things I know we aren’t. We’re not necessarily cool, despite the fact that we all think we are. In fact, if anything, it’s better if we all commonly accept the notion that we’re not cool, and hopefully from that point, move on. If this doesn’t necessarily appeal to everybody, then I can at least say that I accept the fact that I’m uncool and don’t see myself changing in any way. Instead, I’d rather be like this. I sort of prefer it, and besides the fact that I’m not, doesn’t mean that I don’t know what is cool. This is cool. Us as something more than us, is cool, even if it doesn’t always necessarily stretch past the confines of what’s familiar to us, which in a sense, is what matters more than anything else. We need to be familiar with each other, and we need to all recognize when something is new, and I guess either choose to accept it, or possibly walk past it, if necessary.
What we think is cool does shape us, though, and for the most part in a good way. I draw inspiration from everything that I like, whether it be music, movies, TV, literature, all the little pieces, words left unsaid, looks from across the room, subtle notions and inclinations to inside jokes or times spent driving around in the wrong direction lost, looking with glazed eyes for that one tiny secluded place where everything else is supposedly happening. I live for all of these things, and in a way I know that I am slightly derivative of them. I shape everything I do, attempt to create, whatever, around all the things listed above, which is good. That’s the way it needs to be. People just need to commonly accept all their opinions, all their favorites; all the things that keep them going, and not let anybody else rupture such things.
I know it’s hard sometimes, though. People don’t care or at least don’t seem to care about any and all things as much as they care about their own things, and such is true, and nobody can change that. Yet, we have a chance to maybe just slowly realize that all of this is what matters. This is what makes our structured little worlds tick, and although there may be violent turns towards other inclinations, other answers, other possibilities happening here and there, we still need to realize that this is something somewhat bigger than all of us, and at the same time, still all ours as individuals. We need to do whatever it is we do for ourselves and no one else, whether it’s to simply vent or possibly relay a message that everyone else should hear over and over again.
I guess I might just be rambling here, but all of these thoughts have been bouncing around in my head for the last week or so, and I really needed to get them out, and of course, here of all places, because right here is where it seems to matter. I’ve been looking at other people a lot lately, whether I pass them by or have to listen to their slightly hazardous presentations of themselves, and each time something of the sort happens, I find myself judging them, but not in a bad sense of the word. It’s different then that. I just think about all of the shit that they readily subscribe to, all the stuff they don’t know about and even if they do gradually find out about it, they don’t seem to get it, or care that much.
The majority of people I pass by aren’t B-side people. They only really listen to that one hit, and that’s okay. That’s how people are, but I feel like this explains all of us better than anything else. What we consume and what we think is cool, whether it be outside or from the inside makes us somewhat more so alive than all the others, and I guess what I’m trying to say, what I’m beating around the bush about is, that I’m glad this is happening, and we all should, and I can’t see myself ever really turning away from it, even if other parts do come my way.
Lastly, I will say that I’m not completely against the concept of selling out just so long as it’s for the right reasons. My reasons would be to get rich enough to indulge in enough drugs and semi-intellectual women to eventually get sick of it all, and become a recluse on some distant hillside. I’d still be social with all the people I know, or at least think I know, but I guess I would really turn an ear to the majority of the new faces. It just seems as if it’s harder for them to catch on.