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wolven7It's the tiny little Darklings, glimmering in their own little I'mBetterThanYou's and sitting off to the side. You can smell them, really, a whiff, then you See them, and you're disgusted, deep down, truly, at their faux-disdain. Their haute hate. And you want you shake the fucking piss out of them, and use the vinegar to season your fish, because they don't fucking get it. I've said it before, i'll say it again: Where does it come from? I know your Not Fitting In. I know your DistanceDreamAngstLonging, And No, no one can understand you, because then they could know you, and what's different and special and Shiny about you then, you bright young thing, you? Nothing. The generation before me perfeced Sarcasm. My generation perfects Angst. In its way. Is it the truth of the Sartian Word? Or is it the conglomerate forgotten newness of Pissy and whiny, for it's own sake?
Are you upset, because you understand, or are you upset, so that you can be upset? The Dark Ones-- the little spots of shadow that, sometimes, occassionally garner the understanding of a true, deep-down Darkness, the kind of thing that is Darkness in Action, not REaction. Darknessof the soul-- they try so hard for their differentsame, wearing all clothing like a badge, tryuing to Find themselves. As cliquish as the Yacht boys, as catty as the Cheer girls, and somehow, thinking tht their brand is better, or different. All the same proceses, in their different trappings, and Yeah, i do it too. I exclude, i hold back, i don't want certain people around. But you know what? I admit it to myself, and i still try to Not be that way.
I'm not better than them. They just annoy the fuck out of me.
There is irony in our every movement and word, so that we need a Rosetta's stone, and a Lexicon of Symbolism, to have a symple conversation. Ever. And a symbol system of our own is a Good Thing. It helps us to know who we are, at the start. But we only ever seem to put it to use, in comparrison. Which has it's own values. But i hope for the New Ones. The ones in chains, because it's cool to be Bound, and because obviously their soul resonnates with the ideal of shackles and chains and servitude... But not knowing why. I hope that they understand themselves, and the motivators, because, now, as darkbrightglisteny as they May Be, they are still... Young. Unknown. Hoping to be the Unknowable... And that only comes with total knowledge... Perhaps..
I spent my day, wandering around a mall. I saw a girl, at a magazine stand-- shortly blonde, dark roots, catchy-- Black skirtDress, tall purple and black boots. Tattoo on her back, Non-Complete Wheel, full of Hebrew Symbols. It was nice, and i told her so, before i asked her which way to the Borders. She smiled, genuine, and said thank you, and told me. She was not {Completely} one of the New Scum. And those of you who know the phrase, know that i use it only with love/contempt. She knew what she was doing... Then i saw Hot Topic, and the Adult Swim Merch Sign. I was already a Tad on edge, and this nearly sent me over. I stopped, breathed deep, and turnd on my heel and walked into the store. I had to see. I didn't See. I saw CareBears bookbags, and SpongeBob SquarePants Large Plushies. I saw Dark Fae t-shirts, and Pirates of the Carribean bags. Nightmare Before Christmas, and Strawberry Shortcake. The Pink, and the happy, and the marks that seemed to scream "We are young, we are perky, we are so damned sharply edged and pointy scary that we just may horridly mangle ourselves." And i turned on my heel, left the Store, and went to Borders.
i went upstairs, looked at Neil stuff on audio, and then went back down. I read DC's "Final Night," again. Well, really only the part where Hal recites the Green Lantern Oath, for the Last time. Because it always hitches me up. Lump in my throat. Etc. I saw a 20th Anniversary Edition of Gödel, Escher, Bach. . ., with a beautiful sepia soft-back cover. And then i bought King Rat, by China Miéville. It's Nice.
Outside, again, near Hecht's, waiting fot the Mother, and i smell one. Feel one. Itch at the base of my neck as i'm passed, on all sides, by what my less generous, and sometimes more grating commerades would term "Posers." I'm not that cruel. I simply believe they're trying to find the way. And i know a lot of people who could show them. Most of the people who read this could show them a few things about Darkness and Light, and the ideals of the Shadow... But many don't ask... Not in so many words.. but i digress. The One i notice: About 15, close cropped hair, two blonde pieces in front, the rest a metalic goldeny brown. Choker. Light brown cargo pants, and a Jack Skellington shirt. And-- and i know that so many people are going to sigh, snort, turn their heads and deride me, or write me off for arrogance, in the vein about which i've been talking... And if you'd Ever been paying attention, you'd know that i already said it was there, took pride in it, as a source of that very Sameness of Difference, and slipped slid into the waves with the rest of Everything, letting it Be-- i could see the potential, there. Knowing that, oddly enough, it IS "just a phase."
Turn off the lights in your home, on a pitch black night. Close your eyes, now, and wander around, and try to find your way, doing the things you would normally do; food, drink, music, bathroom. Finding your way around. The first few times, how does it go? You flail, your hands in front of you, searching for anaything that might hurt you, trying to feel your way with you hands. As you progress, you know your home{-- Your Personal Darkness--} more, and you know the intricacies of the very walls. You could rearrange the furniture, in the dark, and still be Fine. So long as you did it yourself. But if someone else changes something? You're fucked.
That's my metaphore and i'm sticking to it.
Are you upset, because you understand, or are you upset, so that you can be upset? The Dark Ones-- the little spots of shadow that, sometimes, occassionally garner the understanding of a true, deep-down Darkness, the kind of thing that is Darkness in Action, not REaction. Darknessof the soul-- they try so hard for their differentsame, wearing all clothing like a badge, tryuing to Find themselves. As cliquish as the Yacht boys, as catty as the Cheer girls, and somehow, thinking tht their brand is better, or different. All the same proceses, in their different trappings, and Yeah, i do it too. I exclude, i hold back, i don't want certain people around. But you know what? I admit it to myself, and i still try to Not be that way.
I'm not better than them. They just annoy the fuck out of me.
There is irony in our every movement and word, so that we need a Rosetta's stone, and a Lexicon of Symbolism, to have a symple conversation. Ever. And a symbol system of our own is a Good Thing. It helps us to know who we are, at the start. But we only ever seem to put it to use, in comparrison. Which has it's own values. But i hope for the New Ones. The ones in chains, because it's cool to be Bound, and because obviously their soul resonnates with the ideal of shackles and chains and servitude... But not knowing why. I hope that they understand themselves, and the motivators, because, now, as darkbrightglisteny as they May Be, they are still... Young. Unknown. Hoping to be the Unknowable... And that only comes with total knowledge... Perhaps..
I spent my day, wandering around a mall. I saw a girl, at a magazine stand-- shortly blonde, dark roots, catchy-- Black skirtDress, tall purple and black boots. Tattoo on her back, Non-Complete Wheel, full of Hebrew Symbols. It was nice, and i told her so, before i asked her which way to the Borders. She smiled, genuine, and said thank you, and told me. She was not {Completely} one of the New Scum. And those of you who know the phrase, know that i use it only with love/contempt. She knew what she was doing... Then i saw Hot Topic, and the Adult Swim Merch Sign. I was already a Tad on edge, and this nearly sent me over. I stopped, breathed deep, and turnd on my heel and walked into the store. I had to see. I didn't See. I saw CareBears bookbags, and SpongeBob SquarePants Large Plushies. I saw Dark Fae t-shirts, and Pirates of the Carribean bags. Nightmare Before Christmas, and Strawberry Shortcake. The Pink, and the happy, and the marks that seemed to scream "We are young, we are perky, we are so damned sharply edged and pointy scary that we just may horridly mangle ourselves." And i turned on my heel, left the Store, and went to Borders.
i went upstairs, looked at Neil stuff on audio, and then went back down. I read DC's "Final Night," again. Well, really only the part where Hal recites the Green Lantern Oath, for the Last time. Because it always hitches me up. Lump in my throat. Etc. I saw a 20th Anniversary Edition of Gödel, Escher, Bach. . ., with a beautiful sepia soft-back cover. And then i bought King Rat, by China Miéville. It's Nice.
Outside, again, near Hecht's, waiting fot the Mother, and i smell one. Feel one. Itch at the base of my neck as i'm passed, on all sides, by what my less generous, and sometimes more grating commerades would term "Posers." I'm not that cruel. I simply believe they're trying to find the way. And i know a lot of people who could show them. Most of the people who read this could show them a few things about Darkness and Light, and the ideals of the Shadow... But many don't ask... Not in so many words.. but i digress. The One i notice: About 15, close cropped hair, two blonde pieces in front, the rest a metalic goldeny brown. Choker. Light brown cargo pants, and a Jack Skellington shirt. And-- and i know that so many people are going to sigh, snort, turn their heads and deride me, or write me off for arrogance, in the vein about which i've been talking... And if you'd Ever been paying attention, you'd know that i already said it was there, took pride in it, as a source of that very Sameness of Difference, and slipped slid into the waves with the rest of Everything, letting it Be-- i could see the potential, there. Knowing that, oddly enough, it IS "just a phase."
Turn off the lights in your home, on a pitch black night. Close your eyes, now, and wander around, and try to find your way, doing the things you would normally do; food, drink, music, bathroom. Finding your way around. The first few times, how does it go? You flail, your hands in front of you, searching for anaything that might hurt you, trying to feel your way with you hands. As you progress, you know your home{-- Your Personal Darkness--} more, and you know the intricacies of the very walls. You could rearrange the furniture, in the dark, and still be Fine. So long as you did it yourself. But if someone else changes something? You're fucked.
That's my metaphore and i'm sticking to it.
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-14 10:09 am (UTC)Glad someThing was listening
Date: 2003-07-14 11:37 am (UTC)And then I told her that if someone knew her direction, if someone knew her system, all they had to do was tap her from the side at the right moment, and suddenly she would not be flying in her true direction but flailing helplessly like a person who has just been killed on MK4. A hatchet tapped from the side mid-spin not only misses its mark. Its spin goes awry, and its center flies farther and farther away from it. By the time it strikes, it cannot chunk into anything at all. Strength made weak, all because of too much dependence on a single system.
Re: Glad someThing was listening