On dorky adolescences:
Lately I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m so glad I was somewhat of a dorky/uncool/quirky/artsy teenager. It really peaked in 10th grade, days I look back on now and cringe. I cringe at the exclusivity of converse sneakers as footwear, at my friends’ green hair, at sitting on the stairs by the art hallway and our pointless folly downtown just to waste time. But I’m also glad for it.
Without the comforts of something like tumblr, I still painted murals and fangirled out over things and filled my room with candles and went on adventures — and not that tumblr isn’t, but gosh, it was all so authentic. I’m sometimes glad I didn’t have the internet then. I had to express my angst and disdain for mass society in poetry written out and ripped jeans and an Almost Famous-esque coat and literary references spoken aloud and dark room photography and all those sorts of things. I’m glad I had that.
More than not having the outlet of something like tumblr, I didn’t have partying and boys and feeling pretty and getting drunk much then at all. I had art, of various forms, and I saved all that nonsense for later — now. I guess I’m just glad my formative years were left to authentic uncoolness. I think I’m a better, and far more interesting person for it.
So youngins, don’t worry too much if the boys don’t call or you, you know, decide to not swear or drink your senior year of high school. It’s a time to experiment and figure yourself out, whatever that means for you. It’s a great time to be ridiculous and foolish, really. (Especially because I’m not sure anyone is NOT ridiculous and foolish in high school). Buy those records, light the incense, wear the pink wig to the movies.
