Journal 27
Pride.
It's 5 am in the fucking morning. Normal people are sleeping, I should be at work right now, but I forgot my work shirt (i change in the bathroom), and they sent me home to get it. The thing is that I walk to work. So I said "fuck em, I'll relax a few before walking back." So today, before the world wakes up, I'll have walked 3 miles. Good for me.
But the thing is I'm proud to walk to work. I'm even more proud to do it at 3:30am. What the fuck? Why should I be proud of walking? It's simple reallu. I'm not lazy. I'm willing to get up at an ungodly hour to walk to a job no one in their right mind wants, to work for shitty pay, to pay my bills. Working class pride. The strength (or maybe stupidity?) to carry on with what I have to do to get my shit taken care of.
That's not the only thing I'm proud of. I'm proud of being a scumbag. I was given the title of New Hampshire's coolest scumbag by a few people. What did I do to be called a scumbag you ask? Well, I've eaten off the ground, drank shitty beer we found in the woods, drank half empty beer from the side of the street, begged white trash to buy me booze, hit on just about every good looking girl (not really hitting on per say, more like asking for sex), and being denied by every girl.
I'm proud of being a punk. I guess this has become taboo lately, people thinking that if you say you are, than you are a poseur or some such nonsense. I say fuck it, I am what i am. If it looks like a punk, smells like a punk, acts likea punk, drinks likea punk, than how the fuck can it be anything but? 5 years since my first show. And people said I'd grow up.
I'm proud of all the wounds I've gotten at shows. Someone flipped off the stage in providence when Vice Squad played and i got boot to the top of the skull, during Agnostic Front's set when they played with the Dropkicks in boston (2 years ago st pattys day) a huge kid hit me in the face, chipping my lower left tooth, splitting my lip wide, and hitting my nose as well. A not too memorable show at the Lawrence K of C, I twisted my knee, landed on my wrist, and got a shoulder to the balls. That was a painful night. When Funeral Dress played the salsbury beach club, a kids mohawk actually scratched my forehead. It was like 3 inches long and blood rose to the surface. There are more, and i remember a lot of them. One of these days I'm gonna bring a camera to a show and take pictures of people's injuries.
I have no pride in race or country or any bullshit like that, but god damn it I am a working class scumbag and no one should forget that. So much weird shit that I'm proud of, but at least it's my shit.
Pride.
It's 5 am in the fucking morning. Normal people are sleeping, I should be at work right now, but I forgot my work shirt (i change in the bathroom), and they sent me home to get it. The thing is that I walk to work. So I said "fuck em, I'll relax a few before walking back." So today, before the world wakes up, I'll have walked 3 miles. Good for me.
But the thing is I'm proud to walk to work. I'm even more proud to do it at 3:30am. What the fuck? Why should I be proud of walking? It's simple reallu. I'm not lazy. I'm willing to get up at an ungodly hour to walk to a job no one in their right mind wants, to work for shitty pay, to pay my bills. Working class pride. The strength (or maybe stupidity?) to carry on with what I have to do to get my shit taken care of.
That's not the only thing I'm proud of. I'm proud of being a scumbag. I was given the title of New Hampshire's coolest scumbag by a few people. What did I do to be called a scumbag you ask? Well, I've eaten off the ground, drank shitty beer we found in the woods, drank half empty beer from the side of the street, begged white trash to buy me booze, hit on just about every good looking girl (not really hitting on per say, more like asking for sex), and being denied by every girl.
I'm proud of being a punk. I guess this has become taboo lately, people thinking that if you say you are, than you are a poseur or some such nonsense. I say fuck it, I am what i am. If it looks like a punk, smells like a punk, acts likea punk, drinks likea punk, than how the fuck can it be anything but? 5 years since my first show. And people said I'd grow up.
I'm proud of all the wounds I've gotten at shows. Someone flipped off the stage in providence when Vice Squad played and i got boot to the top of the skull, during Agnostic Front's set when they played with the Dropkicks in boston (2 years ago st pattys day) a huge kid hit me in the face, chipping my lower left tooth, splitting my lip wide, and hitting my nose as well. A not too memorable show at the Lawrence K of C, I twisted my knee, landed on my wrist, and got a shoulder to the balls. That was a painful night. When Funeral Dress played the salsbury beach club, a kids mohawk actually scratched my forehead. It was like 3 inches long and blood rose to the surface. There are more, and i remember a lot of them. One of these days I'm gonna bring a camera to a show and take pictures of people's injuries.
I have no pride in race or country or any bullshit like that, but god damn it I am a working class scumbag and no one should forget that. So much weird shit that I'm proud of, but at least it's my shit.