2007 January:

The punk, raver, goth, stoner, skater, rebel, corporate prescribed image dictating your identity, robbing you of creativity, God sobbing over humanity’s sold out entity
Wear the right clothes, go to the right shows, take the right drugs, and you, too, can fall into one of the above
Adam is a GAP model, and Eve shops at Hot Topic
Repeat worthless facts on politics, wear a façade of individuality and cling to ideology because your own personality is starved and sick
You’re just a reflection of billboards, a canvas that’s taxed for the colors that are painted on it
Listen to hard core, or hip hop, yet another mirrored construction, just some other weak, shallow reproduction
Wear tight jeans, and band t-shirts to scream to the world that you’ve escaped responsibility from your own beliefs with one of society’s templates
It gives me grief to contemplate how people are thirsting for the right garment or make up to define them as a person
14-year old anarchist kids, that skate and take bong hits, who have no real sentiments, and can’t even begin to suppose that they’re just a fraction of the system they oppose
No better is the no-necked go-getters wearing tight tee shirts and varsity letters
So called “jocks” who are fueled by the blood thirst of the mob and their own cocks in place of actual thought
They feel they might lose face if they don’t fight, don’t drink and waste away their nights
They’re just a line of drones guided by hormones and orders through megaphones, blind sighted to the beautiful tones of emotion that lay beyond masculinity
These trends and categories are just an unfortunate product of a capitalist society
Where our markets are based around general affinities
Raised in front of the TVs, our eyes have gazed and glazed for countless days at what we’re supposed to be