in your head they're fighting

I gave into consumerism today, and now I feel somewhat dead inside. I own a new pair of shiny black pointy flats that I’ve wanted to own for who knows how long (I actually do know, ever since year 9 when Amy strolled down the Butt Building corridor wearing them- she used to have such awesome style, and now she’s just another indie stoner) and I don’t even feel slightly uplifted. I think of how they could improve my wardrobe, and no. Just no. It just feels like more money flushed down the drain in the name of the filthy money mongering system and I am now hollow to the will of capitalism. FUCK I can’t believe I’m even talking about this. And I just swore. Ha HA. So evil and vulgar I am. Yet another deluded teenage delinquent who’s convinced they’ll conquer the world.

They’re size nine. And they’re a tad tight. But the ten was too big. I’m so confused. It’s like my ambiguity of shoe size is a METAPHOR for my inability to commit to anything or anyone. Stupid feet. How dare you be weirdly sized. I have a theory that I’m afraid. (I don’t think you can have theories about yourself, can you? But I have plenty!) Because it’s like the second someone shows an interest in me, in me alone, I get scared and insecure and feel cornered and my throat starts closing in on itself.

You know, I might have trust issues too.

Shopping centres are such horrible places. The people there walk around like robots, unblinking, lust, consume, waste. There’s no air, no spirit, no dust, no magic- everything looks the same and I can’t enjoy fashion in the way I generally consider it to be an art form. There’s no drama; no, I don’t really like you, apologetically dressed but I have to admit, on the other hand, I like what I wore today. I’d tell you, but it won’t sound cool, it’ll just be words on a page but I did wear my army boots today. I’ve decided to try an experiment; a challenge, if you can call something so trivial that, and that is to wear my boots every day for the next two weeks. Yay. How super pumped are you for me?! I’ll become just like one of those supposedly tough kids with anarchy tendencies who pretend they’re not conforming. Is anyone ever not pretending?



I want freedom.