My revelations about revolutions always seem to come around somewhere in between 6am an the florescent nature of the sun. Or when there's no one around to converse with, and the sky is already a cloudy muddled version of the same sky I used to look up at from the front lawn of my house when I was 10.
except now in the sky, instead of seeing the rotation of the earth and feeling it's huge vast possibilities causing motion within me, around me, and outside of me, I just see rage and darkness, light pollution where my comfort used to be. a whole city of intellectuals masquerading as idiots. Zealots telling me who I'm allowed to love publicly, as if who I fuck privately is any of their concern.
as if my god isn't as just or as fair as yours, as if my god isn't your god. the best line ever spoken about these wearies that I seem to find myself biting my nails over is "that god can exist with many faces at one time."
and my best friend is a satanist. and her soft eyes meet with my own christian upbringing retinas and we don't see the lines drawn around us, we just see each other. and we just love each other.
crazy notion hey? Love. that love can exist without boundaries, without specifics or disclaimers. that I can fully and completely put my heart in her hands and trust that the last thing she would ever do, was squeeze.
when did my revolution leave me behind? when riot girls stopped lacing their boots and traded in guitar strings for xanex and trazidone. where did my revolution go? into hiding I guess. waiting out the apocalypse. Just like we all sit around waiting ourselves for the world to end so we can sit back smuggly and act all proper as if our justification for acting like assholes to each other was somehow just "the opening act."
one door of acceptance will always be kicked open, but the wood and the nails, the mortar and brick used to create that door was just stolen from someone else. And trust me when I say that eventually they're going to come looking for retribution someday. and we'll hand it over all innocently and ignorantly and pretend that it was for the cause, for the movement, for the steps in the right direction. except we've DE-evolved now into people who go around stealing doors instead of using our own heads to find a solution.
and even if we tear down a thousand other people who just don't see where we're coming from, even if we burn them all at the stake with adjudication in our eyes, we're still just the same animal as them. the only difference is someone let us out of our cages, dressed up civilization, taught it how to speak, how to fight. how to use our words as violence now instead of actually doing something that would constitute actual pride.
we're all monsters in this world. we've all taken a step back from those vast possibilities and lost sight of passion, or art and movement. we're an enitre culture that wont make a stand until it's the only option left. formulated and calculated I suppose, we'll all just sit ontop of a cliff sometime, looking down at the smouldering rubble of what used to be our lives and wonder "where did I go wrong?"
it was here. it was right here where you went wrong. where we are all going wrong.
believing that my truth may not be your truth. acceptance vs tolerance. as if somehow you get to decide what parts of me are acceptable, or tolerable. and even if I could somehow write a million page essay on the basics of truth, nothing I say would change anything, because it's not going to change until we shake awake that part of us that's hiding that knows this entire fucking place is bullshit.
but if you want statistics and facts, here's a fact. Credit cards? not real money.
the shit you own ENDS UP OWNING YOU.
no one cares if you have an ipod or a macbook air. or if your jeans held a price higher than my university education. no one gives a shit who made your sunglasses or your purse. it's just shit. decaying organic matter that you'd stake your life on.
why be jealous of someone who drives an audi. when you should be jealous of someone who grew their own dinner this thanksgiving. you want to update your status on facebook about how thankful you are for technology. how about thanking your useless brain that has become a fucking trademark slogan. because all you know how to do anymore is tag and upload and tweet.
By-products of a lifestyle obsession. Fuck obsession. fuck martha stewart. Martha is polishing brass on the titanic. it's all going down.
you can occupy wall street, you can occupy this room. but until you fucking occupy yourself - you're dead.
and I'd rather be anything other than this, to continue on pretending that I don't work every day just to prove to someone else that I'm valuable. that I'm a productive member of a society that gave up on me before I was even born. I'd rather be forced into a jail cell with celine dion than live in 2011 anymore. with it's mass consumption of ANYTHING. I hate this decade, I hate the people and the movements and all the talk with no action. I hate the hypocrisy. My own hypocrisy. I hate what 2011 has turned me into. give me 1995 again. with no fear t shirts, when truth was just plain truth, before it became ironic. he who dies with the most toys, still dies.
give my Kurt Cobain over this nickleback mindless bullshit. at least Kurt knew he was full of shit.
Give me talent and passion and something that isn't BORING.
lady gaga may be insane, but at least she LOVES something other than her car payments or shiny new countertops.
give me chivalry and open windows on fall evenings. give me friendships where I can call them, hear their voice at 6am and know without knowing that if I died today, at least someone loved me. at least I knew what love feels like. That even if my best days are behind me already that I can still breath in and know that eventually, evolution will catch up with us. and the stupid will die out. and maybe we can pick up the shambled pieces of our humanity and take a little pride in creating something other than blog posts about what we think is right and wrong in the world.
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