Tuesday, July 13, 2010

I'm a Hardcore Cheese Sandwich

I'm sitting on the floor at 4 am, in my parents' house, staring at the lace curtains that should have been retired a long time ago and the dulled pink walls - who was it that first decided that this shade of pink was an acceptable colour to paint walls? And it occurs to me that I have become the whiny, soppy writer type I used to so dearly detest.

My mind is still reeling from the realisation [why am I using alliteration now - is that a symptom of becoming, if possible, even more whiny and soppy?] so I pull on my fake leather jacket, put on a fast car, action movie and attempt to regain my independent hardcoreness. This I will later discover, is much easier said than done. See, hardcoreness - the termed coined by one of my nearest and dearest - is that thing that some people have either instinctually or because they have painstakingly developed it [me being the latter] It is kind of a fierce, unapologetic fuck you to the world and an I'll do what I want to do when I want to do it however I want to do it attitude. I'd say an accurate depiction of hardcoreness is Lady GaGa's sense of fashion.
Lady Gaga performing on the Fame Ball tour in ...Image via Wikipedia



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The people who are born with hardcoreness were either excessively nice in their past lives and screwed over too many times, therefore deciding to not give a rat's tail in mayonnaise in this life, OR are multiple reincarnations of badboy James Dean. [I'm not sure about the second because it's been a decidedly long time since I've seen anyone that hot] My hardcoreness was developed from the worldly philosophy BOYS SUCK to greater extents than any reasonable person would guess. [there are the few exceptions, I know a grand total of one non-sucky boy] I had almost perfected my hardcoreness with the phony exterior of a happily happy optimist when it came to me that  - SHOCK AND HORROR - I was becoming a happily happy optimist. There isn't anything wrong with being this person except that you then have all the efficacy of a cheese sandwich.

I can bare testament to this seeing as all I have done in the past 6 weeks is absolutely nothing. Ok, 6 weeks of something I sorta love, but still nothing seriously credible to my life. Note how my blog has been neglected for a long time... and now I've completely forgotten where I was going with this latest ramble...and I crave a cheese sandwich not that I like them, I am fond of cheese though - Cream cheese (**,) with salt crackers and wine... Ok, im done...

Oh yes. Hardcoreness. I want mine back. Not all of it. Just some of the carefree, hunters drinking, star watching, oreo junkie that I was.

hmm. and while I'm wanting things - a degree in arts, a one way plane ticket and a bottle of Vitamin water [ the purple kind]  :)

..Love Starchild*

almost forgot the magic word, sorry.
- now.

3 comments:

  1. Hmmm, I'm not a big fan of hardcoreness when it is a representation of sex-kitten trauma-based mind control.

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  2. I can see where people might have issues with that.. not that I meant hardcoreness in that way at all.. I guess Lady Gaga kind of embodies that though hey :)

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