I don't wear black clothing (when I do)
because I think it'll make me fit in with 'cool' people,
I wear black because I like it.
I enjoy it. I think it's rad.
I don't wear black nail polish on my fingers and toes
because I think it's 'cool,' or that I want others to think so,
I put it on because I like the way it looks.
I like the chipping that happens;
I feel it's a microcosm of Time, itself.
Nail polish exemplifies Wabi and Sabi.
Besides, I have quite the affinity for black.
I don't wear black eyeliner (when I do)
because I think it makes me so metal,
or because I think I need makeup to look good,
I wear it because I enjoy the theatrics
and I like the way it makes me feel.
I don't have the style I do
because I want to associate with
Goths, Rockers, Steampunks or Metalheads;
I have the style I do
because I genuinely like the way it looks.
It just so happens that I get those labels
because people like to put people in boxes.
I don't do what I do
because I want others to notice and like me for it, if anything,
many others will simply mock and make fun of me for it,
but, ironically, much of that spite and disdain
merely fuels my relished rejection
of modern cultural normality and gender roles.
In times of identity crisis, how weird is it to self-identify?
I do what I do
because I like to do it,
because it makes me happy;
because everything is a way to express yourself,
if you only allow it to be such a medium,
if only you find things to use as such mediums.
I see it as Art for the body,
somewhat poetic and transient;
make of it what you will.
It's truly too bad
everyone misconstrues expression
based on their own psychology,
even me. I do it too, though I try not to:
I am not exempt from my own critiques;
I am, in fact, my closest frame of reference.
At the end of the day, though,
you just have to do what you like,
for people and words shall fade
but it is what you have within that stays.