I’m awkward where I’m supposed to be cool. I don’t really know my stuff around the most happening pub, neither do I wear the hippest clothes. I don’t gulp down alcohol because it may be free, hell I have enough at home to be a drunk for a week and still be left with surplus. I don’t listen to songs which ask me to first take a selfie. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with instagram. I find twitter boring. I refuse to use hash tags and I would rather watch an art film in my native language than watch a flop Hollywood movie because it has machines in it.
But, I’m one of the first to visit a good website if it uses good words to frame the expressions. I’m the kind with a bookmark in three different books at the same time but read only one at a time. I gauge my men the way I gauge these books. I start several at a time but linger over the one I like and complete it. If I like it a lot, I don’t pick up another book for months, even if that book (chapter; good analogy?) was over. I’m the kind who’d wear high heels for five days a week or sneakers at a party and still be okay with it. I have only recently bought coloured trousers and the colour is teal. Mustard is really not my cuppa, neither is a red. I’m the kind who knows what good coffee tastes like but wouldn’t know jack between a lager and an ale. I like like the occasional nonsensical songs, but my play list has classy numbers. Well, most of them..
I click photographs because I want to. I look at them while sitting huddled under the duvet during the half-time of the world cup going on at Brasil. I don’t want the entire world to know what I ate for lunch and I have repeatedly been reminded to ‘instagram’ the image I took. And, then I oblige, sans any hash tags, of course. I don’t tweet because 140 characters couldn’t possibly be enough! I blog. I scribble. I draw.. I went 12 kilometers away to buy rosemary, thyme and sage leaves for an art work I’m planning!
I’m not cool by a lot of your definitions. I don’t smoke up. I don’t smoke. I can’t accessorise my outfits because I seem to look like a villager when I do, I guess, but people have claimed otherwise. I cut my hair short because I could not bear the heat and, that it was enough with the cliché of long hair on my head.
And you know the best part? Those things really don’t make anyone cool.
You’re cool if you’re cool. If you need beer to make yourself interesting, you have major issues. If you need beer to make me interesting, well, why are we friends again? My snap chat score doesn’t determine how popular I am. Hell, I had a display picture of Ozil and Muller on for three weeks and it got one like, and a slutty picture with my neck showing seductively gets 99? The world has serious issues.
I love my books and shoes and weird out-of-place-ness. I don’t care if I don’t look hot or even if I look ugly to you. If I think I am doing fine, I am freaking pleased and will trot out *toktoktok* in my favourite stilettos.
This is not a shove on those who do these things. I’m just tired of everyone judging themselves by these bars. So many kids feel like they just have to do all these cool things to be cool and hip and accepted and popular.
The world doesn’t really need to know where you are at this moment. Everyone’s seen that heart warming video, shared it too ironically.. bloody well time to practice it?