Soul Searching: Lessons in Self Identity

Hoodshit 101

In middle school, I wanted to be cool. I’m talking baggy jeans and extra large hoodies. I wore Ecko, Dickies, and Converse daily and talked like I was pulled right out of an early 2000s rap video. Hip hop was the shit and every guy wanted to be pimpin’ — whatever the fuck that means now. I suppose this was my means of dealing with early teenage anst, but I knew I was no cooler or “street” as the next guy over. Women weren’t women, but bitches. Everyone idolized the lifestyles of the rich and famous and wanted gaudy jewelry with the admiration accompanying it.

I hated this part of my life. I cringe at the thought.

College Part 1: PCC

At a certain point, I wanted to be more presentable and clean cut. I got my hair dyed blonde, red, or brown depending on my mood. All the chemicals probably weren’t good for me the least bit, but it was new, it was interesting, and fuck yeah did I like the change in appearance. K-Pop and J-Pop was in repeat and I wanted the same sort of edgy look seen in the music videos. I didn’t understand a word but it was a lifestyle and it was something to do as I struggled to pass classes. My ideal piece of clothing was a blazer, t-shirt, jeans and white sneakers. Shit looked fucking good together. I’m still fond of the dressy Ralph Lauren look to this day.

I mean, that basically gave me confidence in life for the first time. It made me almost fearless or the very least mask it from the public. I felt good and it got my two relationships in the 3 years I was at PCC.

I miss those days. Not so much the school, but just knowing I had my shit together and it was all my doing.

Maybe I miss Kai or Lia, but who wouldn’t miss someone you onced loved? Who wouldn’t reminisce about what could have been? I was on top of the world and on the highest of highs 2010-2012.

College Part 2: UCSB

Long distance relationship-ing failed miserably. I felt terrible after my break up, but I suppose it could have been worse if she initiated it. I knew we could never come back from what transpired last night at the club, regardless if nothing fucking happened with Maria. She would never believe me. One Skype call and 15 of back and forth later, I was single, crushed, and relieved I was on my own.

Lia was devastated. Maybe I was too, but the exciting days ahead of me at UCSB kept me in control of my emotions. I drank a lot as I have frequently mentioned, it felt great. Made the night easy and carefree while I socialized and made these strangers my friends. Some of the sweetest nicest people I’ve ever met were at parties.

Drugs soon fell into my life. It was inevitable. I smoked various substances, popped a few, and tried a few that were high up on the danger list. Shit made me feel so good and gave me a sense of invincibility, however false that was. I went to class under the influence and even managed to get As miraculously.

This was my life now and I couldn’t care what anyone knew or found out. It was obvious I was fucked up, but everyone around me was. Well who cares right?

To be continued…

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