A way of life..
I recently received a glimpse of what I want to do with my life. I was having a conversation with Christina one night, and I had this vision.. but I'm not going to go into that at the moment. I want to speak about a not so spoken about topic..
Freedom. America, "Land of the free".. Sure we can say what we want, and not be ominously controlled by a higher more superior power that censors any free speech and silences or rights to strike and whatever other liberations we fought to obtain as a result of the american revolution.
Now enter me. A seventeen year old still in high school, a senior about to graduate, trying to get good grades and "trying" to respect authority. But for what. My future. Which as of now ultimately depends on sheets of paper explaining my records of behavior and progress throughtout my academic career. I need to be clean and "intelligent" (as measured through a "grading system") to enter the best colleges. And then from there what?
I have always decided upon myself that my purpose is to help others. I will help others when I grow older. I will help people as I mature into an adult and find a basis of living.. now lets return to freedom..
One day not too long ago, I arrived into one of my periods late, minded my own business, sat down, and did my work (like a "good boy"). My teacher confronts me and talks to me about classroom behavior, because at the time I did come into class late, announce myself to the class (I was in a pretty good mood mind you), and I hummed a little song. She argued about how I was interrupting the class, (which at the time was not working, or doing any kind of activity that positively accents the classroom atmosphere).. (they were playing video games and talking).. She took me outside, spoke to me, and called my parents.. (I did not cooperate with her because I simply did not see what "interruption" I was causing)..
At that time (because I so morbidly fear my parents, a fear I will later rid myself of), I felt as if I had nothing to lose. The worst had happened. I could've gotten arrested, put on death row, or even been killed, and it would not have at all bothered me, because I knew I was going to "die" as soon as I got home.
I was free.. nothing mattered anymore.. I could do as I wanted, and I would have no doubt in my mind. I remember living the rest of that day with a smile on my face, and alot of pondering. It was then I realized the only real fear I have was of my superiors "my parents". As soon as I got home though, that soon dissappeared. Anyway, leaving my bit on freedom..
As I was speaking to Christina, we both spoke about "Spring Break" and change. I brought up how it changes people, not to be in the same "prison-like" environment of all work and now play, of the same people in the hallways falling to the latest styles via high school, not being their own persons. "Posing".
Then I brought up how I regretted not going to the Dominican Republic, or Peru, or someplace far away. It hit me then. What I wanted to do. I wanted to travel the world that I read about only in books. I wanted to travel the world and write about my inferences. I wanted to see what it was like outside the walls of a "capitalist society". I want to help those outside, the "real oppressed".
The world I live in now is brain-washed. Education is a characteristic and not a necessity. Appearance, wealth, and glorification are "en vogue". This is why I picked up my headphones. This is why I listened to underground hip-hop. This is why Bob Marley was so appealing to me.
(For those select few who "know", if you want to keep asking why, you'll never find an answer.
I found this on a website link on my "Links I do"..
" We call ourselves writers, but what are we writing? The same damn word over and over again. We must start writing about what we see is being done on the street. We see it all. When normal people are at home asleep, we are out there "vandalizing" their FUKN property. We must use all the tools that are available to us: posters, stickers, images and stencils. You may be thinking, "Well, that doesn't seem all that hard core." But if you get caught for any or all of this, you are still going to be arrested and thrown into jail. We must all ask ourselves "Why the fuck am I doing this?" Yes, we live in a capitalist society and because of this, we are forced to sell our talent, ourselves. But, remember, it doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to pay our landlord and work some lame-ass job just to get by. It's just the system that is in place now that makes us do that.")
..not a very plausible argument but.. an interesting perspective indeed.
(Then once again I wonder.. what the fuck did I just write? Maybe I'm just going through a stage.. or maybe I'm right.. should it matter though? I think I'm going to give Jessica all of my poetry tomorrow.. I'd like to hear her responses..)
A way of life.. can you explain yours?
Freedom. America, "Land of the free".. Sure we can say what we want, and not be ominously controlled by a higher more superior power that censors any free speech and silences or rights to strike and whatever other liberations we fought to obtain as a result of the american revolution.
Now enter me. A seventeen year old still in high school, a senior about to graduate, trying to get good grades and "trying" to respect authority. But for what. My future. Which as of now ultimately depends on sheets of paper explaining my records of behavior and progress throughtout my academic career. I need to be clean and "intelligent" (as measured through a "grading system") to enter the best colleges. And then from there what?
I have always decided upon myself that my purpose is to help others. I will help others when I grow older. I will help people as I mature into an adult and find a basis of living.. now lets return to freedom..
One day not too long ago, I arrived into one of my periods late, minded my own business, sat down, and did my work (like a "good boy"). My teacher confronts me and talks to me about classroom behavior, because at the time I did come into class late, announce myself to the class (I was in a pretty good mood mind you), and I hummed a little song. She argued about how I was interrupting the class, (which at the time was not working, or doing any kind of activity that positively accents the classroom atmosphere).. (they were playing video games and talking).. She took me outside, spoke to me, and called my parents.. (I did not cooperate with her because I simply did not see what "interruption" I was causing)..
At that time (because I so morbidly fear my parents, a fear I will later rid myself of), I felt as if I had nothing to lose. The worst had happened. I could've gotten arrested, put on death row, or even been killed, and it would not have at all bothered me, because I knew I was going to "die" as soon as I got home.
I was free.. nothing mattered anymore.. I could do as I wanted, and I would have no doubt in my mind. I remember living the rest of that day with a smile on my face, and alot of pondering. It was then I realized the only real fear I have was of my superiors "my parents". As soon as I got home though, that soon dissappeared. Anyway, leaving my bit on freedom..
As I was speaking to Christina, we both spoke about "Spring Break" and change. I brought up how it changes people, not to be in the same "prison-like" environment of all work and now play, of the same people in the hallways falling to the latest styles via high school, not being their own persons. "Posing".
Then I brought up how I regretted not going to the Dominican Republic, or Peru, or someplace far away. It hit me then. What I wanted to do. I wanted to travel the world that I read about only in books. I wanted to travel the world and write about my inferences. I wanted to see what it was like outside the walls of a "capitalist society". I want to help those outside, the "real oppressed".
The world I live in now is brain-washed. Education is a characteristic and not a necessity. Appearance, wealth, and glorification are "en vogue". This is why I picked up my headphones. This is why I listened to underground hip-hop. This is why Bob Marley was so appealing to me.
(For those select few who "know", if you want to keep asking why, you'll never find an answer.
I found this on a website link on my "Links I do"..
" We call ourselves writers, but what are we writing? The same damn word over and over again. We must start writing about what we see is being done on the street. We see it all. When normal people are at home asleep, we are out there "vandalizing" their FUKN property. We must use all the tools that are available to us: posters, stickers, images and stencils. You may be thinking, "Well, that doesn't seem all that hard core." But if you get caught for any or all of this, you are still going to be arrested and thrown into jail. We must all ask ourselves "Why the fuck am I doing this?" Yes, we live in a capitalist society and because of this, we are forced to sell our talent, ourselves. But, remember, it doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to pay our landlord and work some lame-ass job just to get by. It's just the system that is in place now that makes us do that.")
..not a very plausible argument but.. an interesting perspective indeed.
(Then once again I wonder.. what the fuck did I just write? Maybe I'm just going through a stage.. or maybe I'm right.. should it matter though? I think I'm going to give Jessica all of my poetry tomorrow.. I'd like to hear her responses..)
A way of life.. can you explain yours?
posted by Darzee at 9:36 PM
1 comments
