I have become the equivalent to insufferable, we are interchangeable. Synonyms rather. At some point in the last couple of weeks, I have been doom scrolling, rotting, writing to Radiohead, watching pretentious documentaries on Vivian Maier, reading classics like Zweig. At first, it felt like I was doing it in order to impress people, I notice that I just happen to enjoy this art form.
My insides tingle every time I consume media that makes me question my entire existence. Maier’s work unironically made me want to pick up a camera for the first time in two years, which says a lot for a person who studied film. I genuinely cannot stop thinking of the idea of walking around my town and capturing existence. The movement of the flowers, the breeze in a stranger’s hair, their shoes.
I have been thinking… Sometimes we need to embrace our pretentiousness in order for life to feel more fulfilling. Who wouldn’t enjoy a routine of getting a cup of coffee at a local coffee shop and do some reading or writing? Gathering in an environment with other people having the same ideas. Getting to know your local coffee owners. Interacting with other people who might just compliment your favorite bag or favorite shoes. Drawing people on the train, smiling at strangers, spilling your drink on your white clothing. When life has a poetic touch to it, there are more worlds worth analyzing.
Touch dirt, dance barefoot, blast metal and have a dance party, blast sad music and have a slumber. Sit on the floor, light a candle, write a letter in ink and seal it, then put in a box under your bed, where it will be untouched until the day your children have children. Indulge in cake with your bare hands.
We have a certain liberation we often forget, life has worries but I do not think we should constantly be in our heads. I’ve recently spent time with a friend who tends to worry about everything, people have told him to just relax, I’ve told him so. I think it’s interesting how his brain works in a way, conscious about the minimal details of life. I will say I often think he’s too much in his head to let the moment just happen. I sometimes wish I was more conscious like he is, I feel like he wishes he was less. Although, I will say his consciousness of the world he surrounds allows him to often see beauty in small things, it’s got some perks.
Part of indulging in pretentiousness is often analyzing and enjoying how others think. We often relate being pretentious with the artist, art allows us to feel vulnerable. Giving us more room for empathy.
They are two kinds of pretentious people, the closed off and the ones who appear so. They all dress in their uniform, with designer messenger leather bags, loafers, tabis, collared shirts, Japanese sweaters and red lipstick. Their social media often has multiple empty coffee mugs, books, quotes, makeup, film references, artwork. You often sit, scroll and watch from a distance. You’re probably wishing it was you, or probably envious. While you watch, they live it. Even if they are doing it to appear a certain way, they are still doing it and unafraid to do so.
Our society tends to criticize everything, aesthetics, not having aesthetics. Individuality or uniform. When did we start caring about what everyone is doing rather than how everyone feels? The person struggling with their individuality might have been conditioned to do, we are only adding to their insecurities by judging them. When they become uniform, we start to care that they are now insecure enough to indulge in trends.
I have been going on quite a tangent… What I mean is, bathe in the sunlight that the world has gifted you with, focus less on those that remain in the shadow. Wallow in your enthusiasms if that’s what you’d like for yourself.
Ps: Currently choosing which tabis I’d like to order, I am uniformed yet still have a distinct individuality about me.
Ive found my self reading this while pretending to be pretentious and felt very heard.
"When life has a poetic touch to it, there are more worlds worth analyzing." Loved this!