I feel like all I do is rant here but the way people view relationships makes me lose my goddamn mind sometimes.
People who have nothing to say about the world around them and have no dreams but to find someone else to share their play-doh thoughts with, get pretty and stay pretty everywhere they go. They go to bars or shows and they put on their carefully calculated act for everyone around them, afraid to get their figurative makeup all messed up, waiting until another person who seems “cool enough” comes along and the game begins.
At shows, Boy acts tough around his tough friends and Girl acts like she’s down but she wouldn’t do anything that would seem too unattractive like let loose at shows and get all sweaty. He might have enough tattoos for her and she might get enough picture comments from down dudes who have been around a little longer than him. They start texting somehow and saying “haha” to each others’ jokes and might eventually start sending smiley faces. They’re really connecting now.
If the game works out and Dream Boy finds Dream Girl, the two start dating and become practically inseparable. She loves being seen with him in public. It gives her a little more credibility in the scene. He loves being seen with her. All his friends must want her too, you know? Her friends approve. His friends think she’s “cool man, but don’t let her corrupt you.” When she’s hanging out with his friends, they all laugh with each other but she doesn’t say much. They usually don’t seem to hear her very well when she does. He doesn’t hang out with her friends.
At bars, the same thing goes on.
It’s comfortable. And wonderful. When it doesn’t work out, it’s a fucking mess, because the two never really knew each other. It’s all image-based. Girl must be submissive enough to make Boy feel masculine. Boy must be masculine enough to make girl feel feminine. If the image isn’t perfect enough to stroke the other’s ego, it was a waste of time.
Boy writes hardcore song about girl that fucked him over and all the wasted time he can’t get back. He just lives for hardcore. His friends high five each others’ assholes and understand.
“You ain’t hardcore ‘cos you spike your hair, when a jock still lives inside your head.”
love you, Maura. We haven’t had one...these talks in forever,