Ah yes, I LOVE this society and I love myself even MORE.
The issue of how I was dressed came up with a few of my older friends. Apparently, by wearing an army jacket and checkered vans shoes, that took me out of the respectable-appearing category and made me a prime candidate for police interrogation.(That I wrote told you about). Over the course of my life, I've had some older friends make some disparaging, condescending comments on my jeans and t-shirts look. Apparently, it's not "mature" enough. Especially with some of the t-shirts that I wear. None of them are ever VULGAR...but some are, shall we say, less than sunny and feelgood. But again, it's not a constant thing. Sometimes it's a super-hero t-shirt or whatnot. Thing is, I've always had an intrinsic eye for not trying to actually dress "younger" than I actually am...Aging gracefully with the same casual look that --->I<--- had in high-school(not the teens of today...which WOULD look stupid).
This line of thought has come from my roommate of late...I consider the generation gap...but all I get from this speech is that I live in a society that, sadly, judges only on appearance. Everyone does it...but I try not to take it further calls on it. My roommate's contention is that I'm deliberately building walls around myself. He could be right. But I think like a teenager more often than not...I'm comfortable in this role. So what the f--k, am I supposed to DO? Go to London Fog or LL Bean and shop for a new wardrobe? The guy I was sort of, kind of, seeing for awhile also mentioned taking me clothes-shopping one of these days...makeover time, I guess. All this in an age when people when people wear flip-flops and Hawaiian shirts onto an airplane. I believe in dressing UP...but when the occasion calls for it.
These are the times I wish I lived alone. But I guess this is what family is like. Take the good with the bad. But fatherly lectures I can do without. If I'm destroying myself with a drug-addiction(the alchohol needs watching by the way...), then fine. Feel free to pull me aside. But Jesus, it's not as if I have fourteen rings through my nose and shaved purple-hair and in need of gainful employment. And god DAMNED a society that makes us feel as if that appearance is wrong in the first place...
Maybe this opinion fuelled my self-image when I went down to this party that I'd been invited to. I cobbled together a suit of sorts to go on down there. I walked down and waited outside the door for my lawyer buddy to show up. As I stood there watching the people go in, I began to feel out of place, like a fraud. This line of thought spun out of control. I didn't want to do the meet-and-greet, the "what do you do's?", and the constant polite smiling. I convinced myself that I didn't belong here, that I was a big, giant loser and that I should just get the F--K out of Dodge. After an aimless walk, I ended up at the WILD ROVER where I could be alone in a crowded bar, feeling warm and safe in the alchohol haze. Warm apathy and solitude. When I walked home, I realized just how deeply my self-loathing is buried. I walked home for a mile in the teen temperatures mumbling stuff to myself: "F--king worthless LOSER. What purpose do you actually HAVE, anyway?"
Then I passed ------- St. where my dad left my mother and thought: "Thanks, mom and dad. What the hell were you thinking? Oh, wait...Wasn't it my dad who told me he was about to split on my mother until he learned that she was pregnant with ME? Cool! I wasn't even PLANNED! Forgot about THAT." So there you had it. Proof positive(in my own mind) that I wasn't even supposed to be here.
When I slid into bed, I half wished that I wouldn't be facing the disappointment of a return to consciousness. So when I DID wake up, I just lay there staring up at the ceiling trying to find reasons to get up. "Feed the cat, Gary. SHE depends on you. SHE loves you even if YOU don't..."
So now I'm up and on the computer. I feel better now. But for HOW LONG? I plan on visiting the little guy today. He always gives me a ray of hope.