If at any point in my life, I had felt typical, it was definitely now. While I never quite strove for individuality or distinctiveness, my nearly passive decision making process thus established me as both. I was and am cheap, so I shop in vintage stores. The clothes that would catch my eye were generally retro, or aesthetically pleasing to the fashion conscious. But trust me when I say this; it was never ever my intention to look cool or, as my Mom would say, "homeless." Granted I do in fact, on occasion, wear a somewhat worn Phil Collins T-shirt from the
No Jacket Required tour and I do get compliments on it whenever I leave the house. But when this happens, I resent both the complimentor, for being so
in-the-know, and the T-shirt for being unfortunately fashionable. Therefore, I almost want to throw it out. The complimentor is telling me that he or she likes the shirt because it's ironic or funny in a balding-guy-on-your-shirt kind of way but what they don't know is that I harbor a deep appreciation of Mr. Collin's career spanning back to his time as an unassuming drummer in Genesis, taking a literal backseat to Peter Gabriel's vocal duties. And if anything in this world could move me, it's when I hear a song like "Against All Odds." It's during these heartfelt three minutes and twenty-five seconds that I finally understand what it means to be against all odds and wish to never be placed in said scenario. Perhaps I could handle some of the odds but all of them...?
But in general, I would consider myself pretty apathetic. It's not that I don't care about anything, it's just that I find the act of caring too demanding. I once took an casual global inventory and realized that there's a lot of disappointment and heartbreak in this world. To invest my emotional strength in matters beyond my control would seem silly and misguided. Most of my friends would consider apathy to be a condition much like an incurable disease but I'm kinda okay with it. I figure when evaluating our faults, we should embrace them just as importantly as we realize our talents. Truthfully I have always disliked people who overcompensate for their insecurities and shortcomings by imposing their beliefs on me and my status quo bubble. I could never be labeled as one of them.
I reluctantly moved into Williamsburg seven months ago and I have resented the move ever since. It would make sense to move elsewhere but I can't afford to relocate right now. My girlfriend, Lily, who is paying a majority of the rent loves her new neighborhood and makes sure, on a regular basis, that I know about her feelings.
"I did not think this neighborhood could get better," she once said, "but they actually opened a Tasti-D-Lite on Bedford Ave."
Only Lily could get excited about a faux-dairy dessert treat made solely of chemicals. She was the proactive idealist to my self-absorbed lazy self.
