Pop-punk is for pudgy self-haters. Hardcore sucks worse than it did 10 years ago, which seemed impossible at the time. Punk is now Green Day. Indie rock is the new Ke$ha. Chillwave is for former swoop-hair kids who’ve aged out of their scene. Shoegaze is the new jazz music, meaning people only pretend to like it. Bands with earnest, gruff vocals are the new swoop-hairbands. Everything you like really truly sucks.

Do you know what all the sentences above have in common? Besides the fact that they’re true, I mean. Can’t guess? OK, here’s what links those ideas:

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t validate them by arguing. You should ignore them completely.

There’s only one thing worse in this whole world than a misguided nerd, and that’s an apologetic one. You like what you like. You should always be looking to expand your palate but, at the end of the day, you can’t force it.

If you’re into Saves The Day, you’re into it. There’s no need to put on airs or dress it up. And if you like ignorant mosh music, it’s just part of your DNA. You’ll probably always like it. Don’t hide your Hatebreed lyric tattoos. Maybe you still dye your hair colors not found in nature. Don’t hide your Mindless Self Indulgence tattoo. Or that ICP hatchetman logo on your ankle.

Here’s the thing. As lame as everything I listed at the beginning of this essay is, the stuff people believe to be cool is just as corny. Hardcore kids want to be indie rockers; indie rockers want to be house DJs. Someone put it in their heads that they should always be chasing cool. It’s all a crock. There is no “cool.” It just doesn’t exist. Chasing it makes you uncomfortable in your own skin and paints you as an insecure clown to the rest of the world.

I’m confident everything you like sucks. I know it. But there is not a reason in the world you should care about my opinion. There’s no reason you should value ANY person’s opinion over what your ears tell you. Never change for the guy at the record store, the geek in a popular band, or some faceless blog. Don’t bother defending your position. Just like what you like.

That was before I knew my place, so I sat down. My friend rolls her eyes, and she says, “What? You actually think you’re good-looking? ‘Cause you walk around like you’re all hot, and you’re really not.” Then the whole table started to laugh. And I cried for about three days…and then I fuckin’ resurrect. You know? I just realized that everyone I knew was fucking full of shit. And that’s when I started doing whatever I wanted, and not giving a flying fuck what people thought.

(via famousforbeingfamous)

Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.

Saying nothing… sometimes says the most.

I know there’s this part of us that thinks we don’t deserve to be loved. So we fall in love with someone we know we can’t have and who’s never gonna love us. And we fantasize about the day when all of a sudden that he realizes and sees everything he’s been missing. Y’know? And…and all our dreams come true. Only, ah, you know that day never comes. And before you know it, it’s your fortieth birthday, it’s your fiftieth birthday, and you’re still alone.

I want to know how many scars you have
and memorize the shape of your tongue.
I want to climb the curve of your lower back
and count your vertebrae

your ribs
your fingers
your goose bumps

I want to chart the topography of your anatomy
and be fluent in your body language.
I want you, entire.

So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them.

I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I’d cry for a week.

What is masculine and what is feminine, anyway? Why should men not show that they can be fragile or seductive? I am only happy when there is no discrimination.

Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.

Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

Gabe taught me the idea that our lives are about service to others. The night I freaked out and lost my mind, Gabe Saporta got on a plane no questions asked and was at my house the next day. He hung with me through my lame freak outs and made me laugh when we free styled late at night in my living room. He never assumed shit about me and is one of the most fiercely loyal people I have ever met.

The only rule is don’t be boring.

A man who remains consistent his whole life must be an idiot. A growing person has to contradict himself many times, because who knows what tomorrow will bring in. Tomorrow may cancel this day completely. Life exists in such a way it makes contradictions, complimantaries.