Thoughts

I want to record these thoughts quickly:

-Though I am generally a rather ambivalent person, especially when it comes to politics, I must admit that as I observe people, riot officers, current events... I feel like this is the closest to historic '60s revolution that I will ever see in my lifetime. I don't mean that in a purely pop culture way... the best class I ever, ever took was an 8am class at WestConn that focused solely on the historic and cultural events, effects, influences, what have you of the 1950s and 60s. And I actually went to that class, so I feel like I know a thing or two, though I am by no means an expert or anything. I must say that among all the change (replace change with revolution and tell me it's not all too familiar) I feel like the chain smoking beatnik listening to Ray Charles and writing and observing and dreaming of road trips and old gas prices... I live very close to where Jack Kerouac lived when he wrote On the Road. I usually don't take the side of police, but from what I've seen of the incidents of hipsters vs. riot officers in Williamsburg, that shit is retarded. If I was there, fuck, when riot officers come and say get out of the street, don't start hollering about rights man. Get the fuck out of there. It's only common sense, and the rights argument is retarded anyway. Yeah, peaceful assembly is a right, but you also can't block traffic and roads and sidewalks and drink in the street. There's this video on Gothamist, I think, of people having their camera phones smashed and it being so unfair and abuse and whatnot. That's retarded. Somebody commented that they were trying to get out of the way, slowly, so it wasn't deserved... um... you can clearly see from the buildings on the background that they weren't moving back, and there were like a row of people either filming or arguing with the officers, facing them... I'm not sure, but I think if you want to get out of the way and move and there's a lot of people, you should probably at least face the direction that you should be moving. If I was there, I can bet you I would have been at least two neighborhoods down at the first sight of riot officers. Don't mess with that shit, it's stupid, and at least know the law before you start hollering like a drunken hippie, and if you do want to do that, then rock it. Don't whine about being arrested, that's not what you're supposed to do! Throw yer cuffed hands in the air and scream fuck them pigs or something, not whine about your trust fund being cut off. If this is the '60s, I really hope acid truly invades Brooklyn and the village, and hipsters squat in warehouses (not paying a ridiculous price for a converted warehouse) and fight cops with the intention and knowledge of getting arrested and fuck the system and shit. Do it all the way, or people aren't going to care. Nobody cares about people who don't work real jobs, live off their parents, and mouth off to cops. It doesn't send the same message. Revolution is an all or nothing term.
-Another thought... it is a weird feeling to realize that somebody cared about you as much, maybe even more, than you cared about them... perhaps my realism approach is just a method of protecting my feelings. Perhaps it was just a bad time, a time when I thought that I couldn't be cared about like that. Maybe it was just 17, and I knew that it couldn't work, or I was so used to the love them and leave them approach that was talked about on Lucky Strike breaks that I didn't think I was any different. I'm almost his age now, and I am beginning to realize what words actually meant, about exactly everything I misunderstood. I don't quite feel like it was a missed opportunity, as I know it really wouldn't have worked at that time anyway, and that's probably why the words were vague enough for me to misunderstand. It's just weird, really weird, because I can't think of a person in years that I thought was the ideal, the cat's pjs, and thought so, so unreachable, that I haven't found out one way or another that they were into me in some sense. And the scary realization that the way they were into me contained actual feelings... and means that the mutual feelings I thought at times were there and the mutual feelings others insisted they could tell, they could sense from a mile away, well, I guess I wasn't crazy. I dismissed it as being 16, being 17, being young and inexperienced and thought that everybody only wanted sex, that I was too young, too... something, for real deep feelings to be mutual. Huh.