Now, that was a run on sentence. Hot damn. But the topic here is limbo. If you're not aware of what that is, it's the stagnant stance between two very different things. In limbo between life and death. In limbo between night and day. In limbo between Madonna and Dolly Parton. Ironically, I am in limbo between being stagnant and the full throttle, don't look back, don't question yourself, fucking. go. for. it. attitude that I used to have. On the bus, inching towards the hill, a friend and I wrapped ourselves in conversation, so tight we could barely breathe, words fell steadily about the loss and gain of Rock and Roll.
We talked about the idols we've been mentally masturbating to for decades. We talked about the truth and freedom in Joe Strummer, Bob Dylan, even Kurt Cobain. We talked about how even glamorized, photo-shopped pop stars like Lady Gaga have an admirable rock and roll flare. We talked about, as cliche as it sounds, that Rock and Roll is a life style, a way of expanding and accepting who you are, an interaction with the world. Like a living, breathing almost suffocating art piece. It's about being raw, organic, true to your gut and never stopping to even think about second guessing yourself.
It wasn't a fashion statement at first to safety pin one side of a torn shirt to the other, that's not rock and roll. It was rock and roll that the shirt tore and some kid thought "who fucking cares? I'll just safety pin it back together, and move on". We often get so wrapped up in what other's think of us and the moldy, tangled images of what we think we're supposed to live up to that we forget that pure art, and pure humanity comes without thought, without care.
(to be continued)
I was thinking that last paragraph last night.
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