The Perks of Being a Reformed Scene Kid

I assume that most people recognize the enmity that has grown for scene kids and hipsters today. As a former scene kid, (I am ashamed to admit that my MySpace name was Emma Ecstasy) I can see both sides of this situation. Please excuse the generalizations.
There's such a pressure in today's society to "be yourself." Kids are told not to strive to fit in with the majority. The issue here is that kids really have no idea who they are. I know I didn't. 
I saw My Chemical Romance on Saturday Night Live in 2007 and was hit with the epiphany that I had the freedom to be my own person, so I took advantage of that freedom. I put on a ton of eyeliner, straightened the living daylights out of my hair, and adopted several pairs of Tripp skinny jeans. I did this because I felt like I had something to prove every second of every day. If I wasn't dressed like a gothic angel, other badasses in the vicinity wouldn't realize that I was one of them. I was craving some form of community, because at this point, I was not strong enough to stand on my own. Being exceedingly edgy gave the illusion that I was an outcast and didn't give two shits about anyone's opinion, but clandestinely gave me access to a populace of other outcasts.
I think this is the reasoning behind scene kids, hipsters, and any other group of bonafide black sheep. We are told that we aren't obligated to fit in with the majority, but insecure teenagers have to fit in somewhere, don't they? Some choose to fit in with the majority,  and some choose to fit in with the minority (i.e. hipsters or scene kids.) From what I've observed, most teenagers go through this period of needing to fit in with a specific group. 
I'm proud to say that I've grown out of it. I feel much more free now that I'm not attempting to keep up with some vision of a perfect, model-like, punk girl. I am who I am. I dress in what I find to be fashionable. I style my hair the way I want it, not to a standard that someone else has decided. I realized at some point that I have nothing to immediately prove. People either know me, or they do not, and I won't flaunt my own personality traits just so strangers are aware that they exist. 
I still listen to much of the same music that I did in 2007. My Chemical Romance is still one of my favorite groups. I still maintain the rebellious attitude that I've always had, even before my scene kid days. I guess I simply found who I truly am in my personality traits that have stayed with me for as long as I can remember. I let things flow. Given, it took quite a journey to get to the point where "acting natural" actually felt natural, I'm so glad I went through that journey. I wouldn't be as strong a person I am today if I hadn't been Emma Ecstasy at one point.  

Taylor is home

"Stick that in your blog and write it!" - Taylor Dunbar

In case anyone was unaware, I have a half-brother named Taylor. He's from my dad's previous marriage, so we share a father but not a mother. Taylor is 25 and lived in Cape May, New Jersey until recently when he moved to Philadelphia with his girlfriend. 

Whenever he visits, he brings the comic relief back to the household. It's hard to be upset when he's around because he always has something hilarious to say. When my father walked in with his long jacket, Taylor goes, "Hey, trench coat mafia." It's nice to have someone with the same sense of humor around the house every now and again.

I'm sitting in the living room right now and he just said "I saw a guy in a Michael Vick jersey walking a pit bull in Philly yesterday. I thought that was pretty hilarious."

We're currently watching football, which I don't understand or enjoy to say the least, but it's nice. Family is nice.

I went to my therapist today, and we discussed a specific person.

THERAPIST: Do you still have feelings for him?

ME: Yeah.

THERAPIST: Why do you think that is?

ME: ... I think we've covered this before.

THERAPIST: As I recall, the last response wasn't entirely clear.

ME: I know, and I can't promise it will be now, either... (Flips through journal.) He's just... We're... (Pause.) He always would say how alike we are. And I agree. I mean, we would say things at the same time. Sometimes he would say exactly what I was thinking at that moment. Even if he picked the conversation topic, it would be what I wanted to talk about. There was never a dull moment.

THERAPIST: Sort of like kindred spirits?

ME: ... Yeah, I guess so.

Therapy hasn't really been helping me. We haven't come to many conclusions about anything and I'm starting to question its purpose. In the past, I left feeling as though some part of my emotional psyche was once again concrete, but when it comes to the recent issues, I don't think there are any definite or practical solutions.

I feel unacceptably weak when it comes to my emotions. I haven't yet determined if this is a positive or negative part of my personality.

Gotta Figure This Out: Explanation

Yesterday I posted the lyrics to Gotta Figure This Out by Erin McCarley and bolded the lines that are relevant to my life right now. Here's why:

Erin McCarley - Gotta Figure This Out

“I separated my heart from my head to feel out what’s inside.”

Thinking logically isn’t something that comes naturally to me. I’ve realized over time that it is a necessary element of decision-making, but it takes a conscious effort. Recently, when I’ve had slightly odd feelings, I’ve attempted to see the logical side of things. Why am I really feeling this way? What’s really causing this? Am I drawing conclusions? Rather than relying on my emotions, I ask, what is technically going on here?

Eventually I came to a vague but logical conclusion as to why I felt the way I did – why I feel the way I do. Hormones and situational elements seemed the most valid. Yet, there isn’t a way to stop the way I feel.

“Don’t wake me ‘cause I’m dreamin’ in color. Black and white is not my friend.”

Ever heard the expression “black and white” to describe an opinion or situation? Recently I’ve had situations in my life handled this way, as if it’s some kind of textbook example that isn’t affecting real humans. These decisions were made for me in a tyrannical manner. I had no control in the issue, the issue that was concerning me.

I want society to realize that there isn’t just good and bad, happy and sad, black and white. I want society to recognize the colors in every situation, because they exist. Exceptions are everywhere, and life should never be objective. That simply isn’t the way things work, it’s the way humans work to make things easier on themselves.

“I’ve never been so insecure of what I know.”

Most people I’ve met look down on me due to my age. Apparently, I’m too young to understand, I have too little life experience, I’m only a child, etc. As it has been said by many rebellious and outspoken teens, I do understand. I may not have lived as long as others, but I sure as hell understand.

But do I? When so many people tell me that I’m ignorant, I begin to believe it to the extent that it isn’t just grounding, it’s destructive. I question everything that I am and everything that I have allowed to define me. My brain continues to play devil’s advocate and confuse the hell out of me.

“Gotta figure it out, I need a story to tell.”

It would suck beyond belief if this was where the tale ended, with a sad separation and pathetic pining. I don’t want to let it go. It must be fixed. Maybe not now, maybe years from now, but wouldn’t that only make the story more interesting?

“Where’s the feeling I long for?”

I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. I could be now, but I’m not quick to throw that word around without being sure. Recently I’ve been feeling extremely affectionate. I have to consciously resist urges to hug and hold tightly to someone. My feelings are welled up simply because I cannot afford to be vulnerable, but occasionally, I slip up. I crave intimacy, and I involuntarily aim to create it. I honestly just want to feel something other than emotional pain.

“I gotta figure it out before I lose you, love.”

I have feelings for someone who is perpetually slipping through my fingers and out of my reach. The days are going by, the months are going by, and before one can catch it, there goes a year of our life without each other. It’s driving me insane. This feels like the most urgent thing in the world, and it’s up to me to initiate it. It may not be that way, but hey, that’s what my instincts are telling me. I feel as though I am running out of time, when in reality my timer has hardly even started.

“Big city streets are calling me loud.”

I was raised in the country, but I’m a city girl at heart. City nightlife makes me absurdly happy and it always has since I was young. Every trip to New York, or even to nearby Baltimore City, was the greatest excitement. The beautiful lights and buildings bigger than the trees in my backyard – That’s what I wanted to see. Now I look at the city and I see people having a fabulous adulthood. I see theatre, I see concerts, I see clubs, I see happy people. Obviously there is more to adulthood than the associated nightlife, but at my age, I can’t have that. I feel as though it is something in which I’m meant to participate. I’m not a party girl per say, going out at night is just exhilarating to me. On top of that, the majority of theatre work occurs in the evening. I believe it’s the best time of day in all aspects.

“This quiet town is wearing me down tonight.”

Reisterstown, Maryland is the worst place for an aspiring person like me. The main components of our town are marijuana, gossip, mullets, and broken down consignment shops. We lie perpendicular to Glyndon, a very small, posh community where backstabbing is the most popular hobby. The blonde Catholic families live in large Victorian homes with white picket fences, and prance on down to the community pool every Saturday during the summer.

I’m destined to be somewhere much better. The people in Reisterstown have the mentalities of vultures and they enjoy it. I can’t be around any of them because it degrades and exhausts me. They’re all so in the dark, and they don’t care to see the light. I can’t help them, so I simply choose not to acknowledge them.

“I can’t hold you close, or give you hope that this will be alright.”

Naturally when we have feelings for someone, we want to make everything okay for them. That’s simply the nature of love, even familial love.

This is a very challenging need to fulfill when one cannot get too close to the object of affection. In my case, I cannot know what has gone wrong or right, because in all reality it isn’t any of my business. Personal inquiries are out of the question. I wish it wasn’t so, but it is, and I haven’t the slightest idea how to change it.

“I want to make it right.”

As mentioned earlier, this circumstance that I have been caught in has – for lack of a better expression – fucked up a lot of things that were once important to me. I want to remedy it, but just as with many other things, I do not know how I would go about doing so. I’m cornered, and the only choice right now is to sit instead of to fight.

Fruits of My Exhaustion No. 1 (see Explanation)

I just got home from work at 10:30PM and as I only got about five hours of sleep last night, I'm too exhausted to explain how I am feeling in detail. However, thanks to Erin McCarley, I don't have to.
I bolded the lines that really describe the thoughts I've had today. Perhaps tomorrow I'll post an explanation.
Enjoy!

Erin McCarley - Gotta Figure This Out

I separated my heart from my head
To feel out what's inside
I don't like what I see, so I say good night

Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming in color
Black and white is not my friend
Candy coated figures hold me in my bed

I've never been so deep inside a shadow
I've never been so insecure of what I know

I've gotta figure it out, I need a story to tell
Where's the feeling I long for?
I've gotta figure it out before I lose you, love

Big city streets are calling me loud
The busy keeps me high
Well, this quiet town is wearing me down tonight

I know that I should stay here for a while
Listen to the sound of my shaky heart
Looking for gold in the ground

I've never been so deep inside a shadow
I've never been so insecure of what I know

I've gotta figure it out, I need a story to tell
Where's the feeling I long for?
I've gotta figure it out before I lose you
Before I lose you, love

It's not okay to make you wait
To make you wonder why I
Can't hold you close or give you hope
That this will be all right, I wanna make it right

I've gotta figure this out, I need a story to tell
Where's the feeling I long for?
I've gotta figure it out

I've gotta figure this out, I need a story to tell
Where's the feeling I long for?
I've gotta figure it out before I lose you
Before I lose you, before I lose you, love

Does It Matter?

"Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." - Mark Twain

Today was an oddly warm November Sunday in the mid-Atlantic area. It was well spent - I went to see Arms & the Man at Constellation Theater in DC. The show was fantastic, but admittedly, my favorite part of the day was meeting Kyra.

It's been a struggle to feel different things than my peers. I equate it to being an outcast; a gay teen, a goth teen, a quiet and misunderstood teen. I have spent years knowing that I was different. I see things differently. Instead of listening to Ke$ha and Kanye, I'm listening to Queen and The Ramones, but that's simply on the shallow end of things. Instead of being worried about boys, clothes, popularity, and adolescent issues, I'm worried about the bigger picture. I'm concerned with men, the idea of style as a whole, inspiration, philosophy, and worldly issues. It's a very difficult part of me to explain since I haven't entirely figured it out myself, but I have a vague idea.

Kyra seems to feel the same way. Our aspirations to be older are futile, but they're real. I can't stand when someone tells me that I cannot change my position in life and that I wouldn't want to anyway. I may not be able to change my position, but I sure as hell cannot change the way I feel about it. It's refreshing to know that someone else feels the same way, has the same humongous delusions and the same hopeless dreams of skipping adolescence.

I opened with the Mark Twain quote about age. "If you don't mind," he says, "It doesn't matter." Well, this isn't necessarily true. I don't mind. Or do I? I mind my age because others do. I am constantly placed in situations that would be acceptable, were I an adult, but due to my age they are deemed odd or inappropriate. This isn't me, this is the mentality of others having an effect on me. If the entire world was not so stringent when it comes to - I cringe when I hear the word - minors, I wouldn't be vehemently hating my position in life at this time.

So, does it really matter? And why the hell does it need to matter?