Im just going to start writing
I watched The Perks of Being A Wallflower and I thought about being 16.
About how I do miss it.
And I returned to school today from break, feeling this invisible pressure slowly rear its head when I stepped on campus. Only at this school have I felt it.
When I was home, I woke up each morning, turned on my computer, and allowed my Itunes to shuffle whatever music into my zone;
From Waka Flocka to The Beatles to Fun., the music of my life would flood my bathroom, closet, and heart with a spirit of energy and memories.
And I get to school (college to be more specific), where individuality, expression, and diversity is supposed to be the cornerstone of a college student's identity, feeling crushed by the persecution of being different.
I am seen as the bizarre.
_______________________________
4 years ago, I wouldn't have cared. Being home for so long always makes me feel like I'm 16 and growing...you know..that steady progression.
I dont want to always be growing into something, but I do want to always feel the acceptance of liking whatever I like.
Some people never get comfortable with their interests. It may not be popular or just not accepted for what it is.
When I was about 15 or so, I used to always go to one of my cousin's houses to get a haircut. He was a terrific barber and had this surge of life in him, so I always looked forward to visiting.
One day, I had to stay for an extended period of time (about 3 hours) for my aunt to come pick me up and he asked me if I wanted to go on his computer to play a game, to pass the time and whatnot. I took up the offer and went into his room while he cleaned up for a bit.
It was my first time going into his room and he had about 2 posters up that confused me, but I didn't think too heavily into it.
I sat at his computer station and booted up the desktop. The background on his desktop made my head turn.
His background was a picture of a well built, scantily clad, African American male laid across an exotic landscape. My cousin must have a thing for matching because that was the same theme for those other 2 posters I saw when I walked in.
I was 15, but I wasn't naive. When my aunt picked me up, I asked her if he was gay.
She said yes, without saying yes.
This wasn't acceptable.
At my (Catholic) school, everyone always talked about how gay people were demons and destined for the brimstone of underneath. I can never forget how one of my classmates painted his "dislike" for homosexuals: "If my son was gay, I would kill him."
Us kids, judging without facts. And I never said anything when those conversations came up in class because I didn't have a real opinion, yet it was more than that. I think I always had an opinion, but it wasn't socially acceptable. Even though that was years ago, I only regret one thing: never speaking up.
Because what is acceptance without understanding the opposition?
You should come as you are. Unless you are a serial killer or something that hurts. Then you kinda need to change that. Please.
Acceptance.
I want to hold on to a piece of that wherever I go. Forever. It's like a tiny, golden-white orb that breathes Summer's wind on my skin. Makes me feel like the beach is in my veins.
I never smile the way I do when I'm at the beach.
That infinite (yes I know, ripped from Charlie's mouth) fall into a world you're creating from your own experiences and other's people stories, interactions, and influences.
And that's the biggest one, the influences. They gently tug your attention to places you wouldn't have expected to go. It's an unpleasant thought to recognize that you didn't discover your favorite song or food by your means, but through someone else.
Although it isn't how most of us wanted to come by it, it's an even better feeling to know that the people you surround yourself with could give you that-even if it is unintentional. With out some people in my corner, I couldn't be this. Whatever I've become.
Today, I lapse in and out of the general apathy I have for stranger's opinions and the developed foreboding twitch I've grown to change what's unacceptable to this small society of peers. If a ricocheting blast of guitar riffs and drum bangs burst throughout my dorm room played from my Ipod dock, I noticed that I get up to change it, often to something of a hip-hop medium. I was never conscious of this, until now.
I don't like it.
But today, I've taken another step to being me. To holding onto that light in this dark place. Right now, The Killers are playing their beautiful rendition of assurance and hope in "Everything Will Be Alright" right near my window. Which faces the entrance. To my whole dormitory.
It may not seem like much at all to you, but it's something to me.
I want that little piece of freedom I've found.
Forever.
This is my school report on the personal effect of The Perks of Being A Wallflower. (sarcasm)
Later Days
P.S. Sorry this post went a lot of places, I just re-read through it and it made me even puzzled. I can't really tell you how music relates to homosexuality, but it did to me tonight.
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