Too Cool. Toxic

I was too cool. No, not cool at all, but I really wanted to be. Tried to be cool by liking only the right things.

The books I read, the movies I watched, and the music I listened to were to prove my cool. Always worried about what everyone else thought. Wanting, needing to make an impression.

So many things I missed or ignored because I was afraid. It wasn’t until years later that I realized being cool didn’t matter. Embrace what I like and nothing else mattered.

It’s not possible to buy cool with cultural consumption. I tried too hard, I wanted to impress with social cache, and far from being true to myself. The perfect equation for uncool.

I was too hep for Brittney Spears. Couldn’t be bothered with what mass culture served. I ripped on Brittney to make myself look good. Asked my younger roommates how they could listen to such crap.

That damn Toxic song always got under my skin. I’d hear it stores and the words would whisper within. Never could admit I liked the song.

Several years later sitting at the counter of a coffee shop, my friend makes fun of another for not liking the Beatles. He didn’t care. He liked what he liked, and I thought how cool.

I’m gonna like what I like. It’s time to not care, stop trying to be cool, and be what I am as I rock out to Toxic from the top of my lungs.

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