You sit there all inked up, listening to Hatebreed or some other kick ass band. You have all these amazingly insightful thoughts that you yearn to share with the world. No one understands you because you're that deep. You walk with purpose in your hard-toe boots. The scowl you carry is part of your persona, it tells the world that, "Yeah, that guy's a hard-ass." You read your Bukowski and thrash about to Killswitch Engage. You write in open form because you think that it is still an unaccepted form of writing, and you're just that cool. Your work shirts don't have patches on them because you haven't found any cool enough to represent who you are, yet.
And when your three year old son wants to watch SpongeBob Squarepants you are more than happy to oblige him because you love it too, one of your favorite songs is Ocean Man by Ween, and while everyone else is watching TV in the living room, you're at your computer at www.nick.com streaming Catscratch through TurboNick.
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