Two Girls.
Saw a girl on the street: pink barettes in raven-black hair, jeans-skirt, black with white-strip socks to just under her knees, black Converse. Saw a girl on the bus: neon-red hair in braided pigtails, green-blue plaid skirt, black tights, legs crossed high, red Converse. Me and the Converse girls these days. Never had a huge thing for Converse--but I cannot deny these two girls looked good (with or without their Converse). Usually--and I will stereotype, unapologetically--the sight of Converse typically means a fascist vegan or cliquish punk with a taste for really lousy music. Anymore you can add mopey, dewey-eyed emo kids or image-obsessed, lemming-like scenesters to the list. Again, each with the lousy music. The culture of cool. The media's spoon-fed, mass-marketed individuality. It's just so much bullshit that you get goddamn habituated to it. I'm ready to puke while that ever-present majority is just begging for a shovel--told to act black, or metrosexual, or emo and thinking all along it's their own decision.
But, yes, these girls, these girls in their Converse: maybe they understand. Maybe it's all just a stab at irony. Maybe it's only because they look so fucking cute in them. I can never legitimize introducing myself to these girls. Not that it necessarily matters--often times I wonder whether I would want anymore than to simply look upon them.
But, yes, these girls, these girls in their Converse: maybe they understand. Maybe it's all just a stab at irony. Maybe it's only because they look so fucking cute in them. I can never legitimize introducing myself to these girls. Not that it necessarily matters--often times I wonder whether I would want anymore than to simply look upon them.