03/11/2014

Random Thoughts XXVII

I started wearing black when I was fifteen.
"It is a phase, she's a teenager", people used to say.
They also associated my style with the music I was listening to.
It was the transition from commercial pop/rock to metal music and darker sounds in general.
I started getting more piercings, wanting to get tattoos, wearing spikes, dying my hair black, putting dark make up on...
At first people called me a metal head. Then, when I started wearing long skirts and doing a more feminine make up they called me a goth.
I have never really considered myself as gothic. Yes, I do like all things dark and depressive and I have been wearing black for more than 10 years consistently, but does that mean I'm a goth?
I have always been drawn to dark themes/images/sounds, gloominess, depression and I'm fascinated by the occult. But still, there many other things I like as well.
At times I like listening to pop/r'n'b and commercial music as well. I like edm music too. I love dnb and couldn't live without raving. I like meditating, I like being happy and I also like cute stuff (excluding the colour pink which I hate). I couldn't live without partying and sharing happy moments with my friends. And I could go on and on. My life and tastes are characterised by antithesis.
Do I qualify as a goth just because of one part of who I am? But then again, who is only one thing?
I am a woman, a female, a human, a feminist, a student, a friend, a lover, a daughter, a poet, a writer, a lyricist, a vocalist, an artist, a thinker, a creator etc. So maybe I am a goth, too.
When people try to label me I feel extremely uncomfortable. Their labels can't define me, I'm too perplexed for that. I'm not an object that you can just label. Lara isn't just one thing. Lara is Lara. As you are you. And they are they.


Confessions of a Rotten Heart (6)

I like that I smell badly. I haven't showered in days.
I like that I look like a mess. I didn't care what I was gonna wear or how I was gonna look like.
I like that my eyes are red from crying and my lips swollen from biting them.
I like that I look so miserable that if I saw me on the street I would pity me.
I like that I'm listening to darkwave while crying for him.
I like it that my pain is so obvious and apparent that it can't be ignored.