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I have a fashion backslide. I am thinking of what to wear. Usually I wake up, do my excercise, shower, brush my teeth, jump in my shorts and that´s it. No shirt. It´s Cambodia. It´s minimum 35 degrees and it´s my office, my life, my state of society, my choice. This is why I am here. Not to be restricted, not to be trapped in conformity and industrial values. Sometimes I even don´t wear shorts, just my kroma around my hip. But since we have a new team member, Kayo, from Japan – and I don´t write about her on purpose, I have to think about. You share, you care. You care, you are trapped. Or not? Why? Ok, you are, in your head, I am in my own head. But I want everyone to feel contented and loved. Gosh I am a hippie, proofed again. So being a hippie needs some adaptability. We all need to agree on peace, love and happiness… ok, I go naked today. – And then you can even wear anything, after you started to think about. You feel poor-dressed. Unsuitable measly. As you don´t care, and not about yourself, I would feel much more comfortable working naked. You feel uncomfortable, because of… you should dress adequate. I hate adequate. I hate my shakiness of my appearance. I am such a snob on one hand and on the other a boy, which is ashamed of his external in general. Sounds like a perfect match. I hate to feel being attracted. She is a tremor. Twitching constantly at yourself, an annoying kid, which wants attraction. You are a fuckin kid, you are too young too fuck… but in need of… yes I am in need of intimacy. After this trigger tripping weeks I definitely are. I uncaged myself to set myself in the next cage… life is a following prison. Everyone follows, me, a friend, a friend of a friend, ideas, concepts, illusions and trends… trends which let us appear modern, interested, open minded, with our heart on the pulse of time, aware, present, agile, creative, inspiring… how boring is that. How disgusting I need all this, still deep rooting. I admire freedom as an utopian maturity and I am not free enough to welcome my desires. This is disappointing and hate-vomiting. But it doesn´t turn anymore in self-hate, which is a good thing, otherwise I could stay, anywhere. Everywhere clothes make the man. You would never expect a manager here in shorts or in a tshirt. Why? Because we are all mindless cannibalists. Man have choices and choices make decision and decisions are consequences. Kayo messaged me, she is busy in the morning and will come to the office afternoon… my choice, fuck shirts! I vote for topless!
I like my sense for beauty and aesthetics. I hate the fact, that this is a reproduction of a world´s collide, the world and my world. With opening our eyes, seeing first light, walking blindfold the plank of life and caring if we look good, if the suit maybe is a bit overdressed or the shirt has too many holes or the nose is too big for asia or the beard too long or clothes just too fuckin hot! This is hilarious and I don´t like it at all. Poison ideas. Conformity is poison in my head. Where has all punk left?
People told me, I could wear a suit and I would never look conform, in line, because of my tatts. And here is the fact why I don´t like to wear a suit, because I know it would look fucking great – snob alarm!, like a stripped page of a glossy lookbook of a whatsoever brand for a new taste of schnaps, peanuts or anti-clavus creme – you fit in, not are apart. I don´t feel the pressure to be anti, to be against, but I don´t see a reason, looking around, why not.