so...
when i listened to the pixies, my bloody valentine and the buzzcocks every
single day, and i was into politics and philosophy and i ate lunch on the
bleachers by the football field and went home to sleep at 4pm after trigonometry
and couldn't wait to get out of high school... i clung really desperately to
this notion that there are people somewhere who appreciate wit, intelligence,
what's on the inside, etc etc.� all you had to do was search them out, and
everything will be rad.� basic teenage misfit idealism trash.
looks matter. height, weight, hair, clothes, shoes,
cars and money matter.� and penis/breast size.� and being in a band is pretty
important, too.� there are some people out there who are into the whole
"substance" thing, and they rate personality as a high priority.� but come
on.� seriously.� would you really want to spend the rest of your life
with a complete mutant that has a great personality?� that's so amish.�
how could anyone even want to smooch a person that has too much facial/body hair
or bad skin or wears birkenstock sandals in public?
if you saw the perfect person at a bar, without even knowing anything
about them... wouldn't you be willing to give them everything, right
there, on the spot?� just because of the way this perfect person looks and
dresses?� wouldn't you give them old mementos and souvenirs that you've
cherished for years?� your money, your possessions, your body?�
wouldn't you be willing to marry them and make babies with them?� wouldn't
you take a bullet for them?� wouldn't you sell your friends and
parents into slavery, just to please this perfect person you see from a distance
at some random bar?� i believe this is the way things are and the
way things very well SHOULD be. fashion magazines are the pinnacle of western civilization.
if you wouldn't do all of that for a perfect stranger, if you wouldn't trade
everything just to have that beautiful person, if you think i've described a repulsive mode of thinking, then what the fuck is your
damage?� are you suffering from a concussion?� did your subscription
to wallpaper* run out?� i'm one hundred percent serious.� looks
matter.� accessories matter.� most everything else is bullshit.
daddy was a bankrobber, but he never hurt nobody.
