and now I don't feel so alone..

we were attracted to the life for a reason.
we sing the songs of rebellion
and raise our fists against it all.
we chant slogans and read books
and find music in opposition.
in protest of a life we dont want.
a refusal of common and boring.
our dissent boils over with middle fingers and blue hair.
because fuck them, right?
they
dont get it.
they dont see what we see.
they dont live the lives we do.
no one understands
but those singers and those with the heart to hold
the protest signs. and thats fine.
better than fine...but why?
for what?
be different. be weird. be unique. be gay. be free. be fucked.
coloryour hair. rip your clothes. tattoos your skin.
read books your parents
told you not to. watch documentaries. listen to artists.
love who you want. stand for a cause. raise your voice. oppose the haters. speak up.
but remember why you do it.
if you have green hair and you dont know why, fuck you.
if you sing along to the rally song for the hook, fuck you.
if you pick up a cause and dont know why, fuck you.
if you tour the country in a broken van and dont see the beauty in 3am gas station dinners, dont do it.
i dont know your inspiration, i only know mine.
this scene. this culture. this community...is a parachute, not a destination.
it's a scope for your high-powered rifle of splendor and wonderment.
thereis supposed to be a purpose behind all of this.
not all that DIY/punk ethos im always talking your ear off about...but about building a
better life for yourself. we are attracted to this for a reason.
in the beginning it all seems so clear but after time, tends to lose
its luster. the image gets smudged by back-stabbing, scene points, who
got to the barricade first, list spots, message board drama,
backstage passes and name dropping.
dont you remember why you wanted this?
when it was more than music.
when it was a fight. and not a fight
against your parents and the kids at school or even the popular radio
dance crap you hear day in and day out, when it was about a realfight...the fight to save yourself from yourself.
see, this isn't about that hot and sweaty feeling of being smashed in a sea of a
thousand people or dressing up for the show on friday or throwing
elbows at the dude who is sweating all up on your back or winking at
the bass player or impressing boys or girls or bands or security guards
or getting on tour busses...its about being alone in your room with headphones on and feeling it so hard it brings tears to your eyes.
its about driving home alone at night and screaming at the top of yourlungs to words that at that moment in the world, only you understand.
its about not being scared anymore.
its about the refusal to sit on a couch and rot.
its about forcing yourself out the door to be productive.
and its about wanting to live so hard you just know you're going to shred this world or go out trying.
while you're off playing 'punk' or whatever it is your crazy kids do these day, remember one thing...this is not here by accident.
groups of people across this world make this
possible because a few groups of people before them had a crazy idea
that life is ours for the taking and we get to paint it any fucking
color we like because its the only one we got and we need to make the
best of it.
to make it fun.
so that one day, we can learn to have fun and smile when it snows and get excited to pass on the secret we learned about life.
thats its not about playing things safe, because safe fun is for retards in bike helmets and knee pads.
real fun is in the adventure of the leap from the stage to the crowd.
and real living is in the faith of knowing someone will catch you.
because you would for them.
-christopher gutierrez