After two weeks of lurking in my sleep inducing lair I finally grew tired of staring at and dreaming about the rockers on my wall and dragged my burned out body and mind to the mall. Cady Heron from Mean Girls was definitely right when she said the mall is like the wild. Whoever thought the mall is fun amidst the deafening howl of the crowd is getting disapproval from me. There’s a mother who swears at her child, there are volunteers asking for donations but doesn’t want to accept coins, there are temptations, there are lovers, there are friends and simply there’s a lot of people. It is nothing less than chaotic. As I danced the graceless steps avoiding bumping into people I counted the never ending illogical list of things I dislike, despise and denounce about this society, not of humans but of dancers.
Mall is where incidental reunion happens. When you see an old classmate they’ll most probably greet you “you gain/lose weight”. It’s as if their eyes are weighing scales. There are other thoughtful greetings like “how are you?” Physical appearance has to appeal to people first, personality and sense comes after or even totally disregarded in most cases. Beauty is a necessary commodity in a world of vanity.
Fourty percent of the kids roaming the mall are wearing pop culture referenced shirts. Ask someone wearing a Che Guevarra shirt about Motorcycle Diaries and they’ll most likely stare at you as if you’re an alien. It’s exactly same thing with band shirts, people wear The Misfits, Slipknot, The Ramones and doesnt even listen to their songs. My friend by chance, once sat down with a punk girl, complete with boots, black clothes, eyeliner and huge Skullcandy. When she looked down at her ipod, the girl is listening to Black Eyed Peas. She laughingly told this story with a hint of disgust. It’s a society of cool. And cool is merely defined by commercialism. It cant be helped that Che Guevarra’s sweet rebel face is highly marketable. If you’re not cool you don’t belong. If you’re not into what the public generally buy you’re boring and weird and freak and if you write about how tragic it is they call you emo. Conformity is one thing and individuality is another. The line between the two was drawn and conformity overlaps individuality. You are an individual but you are a part of the society. Its becoming pretty sad to call yourself you.
I could go on with this endless irrational and immaturish ranting but the bottom line is it is a hard routine to move around others especially if others have difficulty moving themselves. What will make it much of a challenge is you’re not even a good dancer yourself.
PS: I’d rather take the consequences of stepping on others and my feet than to move on an empty street.
