I was just thinking about my little social experiment in November. I was regretting that I didn't have my husband-to-be to walk in on the Pixie's "Here Comes Your Man." Having it played during the seating wasn't good enough. Also, when I was seventeen I decided that I wanted to walk in during the musical intro to NIN's "Dead Souls." Y'know, with the nice tribal drums thing. Very gothicy.

(And before anyone says anything we're talking about the proto-gothic stuff of the early 90's. I'm old. You younger attention-seeking-fucker "goths" can suck it, it was a long time ago when you were drooling at your mother's tit. Waaaay before your little asses could buy stuff off of the Goth rack at Hot Topic. Hell, I remember when EMO was used as an adjective. Shit, that's the best thing I've written all week.)

I was thinking that there were a lot of things I had decided that I wanted to do when I was seventeen and planning my life out in two week increments at a time.

It reminds me of Mr. Dobler.

That's Mr.-Outside-With-The-Stereo-Say-Anything-Dobler.

I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.

That, my dear is pure seventeen-year-old rage at the environment in which you are raised. I went through a phase where I was going into Theatre and had gotten myself a weekly paying gig. Professional acting doesn't pay shit on my big-fish-little-pond level. But I was gonna be Lloyd. I was going to make my life out of this anti-consumerism little bubble I had ensconced myself in.

How silly and immature I was. My two-week life plans. Before everything that happened, happened.

Lloyd summarizes my agedness for me.

She's gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen.

Indeed.

Posted by Lux on 29 February 2008 at 6:47 PM | Permalink