This is a moment to spite the world just because you can. This is a moment where relationships are fractured by shame, by our ultimate need to be strong, be independent, to prove that we have everything together. Isn't this my life? Isn't this the past ten days of saying screw the world just to see that I can, to prove that I mustn't always be a rule follower. To hide; to run away and hide; to purposefully distance oneself from all others; to be an ugly person for the sake of feeling the dirt coating your skin; to feel pain to feel pleasure.
I know that the underground man is pushed to an extreme, but, really, who hasn't had their moments? I'm living one right now. To say that we have lived demands shame, selfishness, self-abuse, destroyed relationships, fractured dreams. Without those, what do you know?
Perhaps the underground people are the hipsters, are this, our generation. Or maybe we're just posers: pretending to live in this way while willfully soaking up the unending privileges we think we deserve. Sitting in our coffins with our noses in the clouds.
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