As a
young poor, I never had brand name shoes as a kid. Motherfuckin’ kids were
relentless too, even poor kids who somehow had nice shit. In fact, those kids
were the worst about being relentless, mocking your “bobos” back in the day.
Where I grew up, 8th grade was in the high school, and I begged and pleaded with
my folks to buy me a fuckin’ pair of black Chuck Taylors for 8th grade. They weren’t
but like $20 back then, but I guess that was still big money to my folks, with
three kids, and a mostly unemployed dad who also had drinking and drug habits.
They got them though, and man I was so fucking proud. Some rich kid had a summer
pool party at his house, and I convinced my mom I could wear them early to
that, like a couple weeks before school started. I swore I was styling. I don’t
think nobody noticed shit though to be honest. That’s the problem with norms –
you don’t notice normal shit, but man do you ever fucking clown on abnormal
shit. Anyways, fuck norms. And sadly, there used to be a couple things I
stubbornly prided myself on – never having paid for a haircut, never having
bought Nikes, never having flown on an airplane. The past decade’s class
transition into bougie-adjacent bullshit, has meant I’ve done all three, though
still pretty minimally. I’ve got some work to do to get myself right again.
Honing the machetes as we speak though, so don’t worry. You can’t ever
assimilate fucked up feral hearts whose mind won’t listen to their brains,
which get washed too regularly. Heart remains dirty with the truth. That’s why “brainwashed”
is a word but “heartwashed” ain’t. Heart is pure (if you have it still) and
ultimately doesn’t need cleansing, because all that dirt and grime that gives
you heart, that’s reality. Or some shit. Who the fuck knows?
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