ryder

What is cool it to be cool? Sometimes I wonder this when I’m home reading in my yard surrounded by burning candles and incense, leaves of green and the sound of rock and roll. And at this time, I feel cool. Then I question why I feel the pressure of image when I lay at home feeling so happy with my life. I’m surrounded by the things I love and I know what makes me happy. I know the emotions this music wields inside of me and the joy I feel at home with a book in one hand, tea in the other and ocean salt still in my hair. Yet I still think of how people see me. Do they notice the music I love as I walk down the street, or my mind that wanders when I lay on the beach by my house looking at the stars? SometimesI feel guilty about being mad. I get mad when I think of people being glorified when they’re faking it. I can tell when they fake it, but I wonder if people think I fake it? Do they believe me when I wear the name of a band I love across my chest? Do they believe me when I tell them thats the music I was raised me on? I don’t think they do. I don’t think they do because I don’t spend my money on all the things you need to look like a rock star or all the drugs they take to make them feel like one. They don’t believe it because I was always too scared of them to feel comfortable exploring the environments that could make me happy but where I too heavily felt the weight of ‘image’. Am I cool enough to be here? I know every word to the songs leaving the stage but do they notice that or do they only notice what I am wearing, my haircut thats not outrageous enough and the tattoos that don't cover my skin? It all circles back around and it makes me question how I can ever be welcomed. I notice myself slowly doing what it seems I need to make my passions show. Or what it feels like is the only way for them to believe me. How much did that denim on my back cost, or the leather on my feet. Do they believe me yet? Will they ever? When does it begin to show enough for me to be finally cool?