Is This It?

Ah it's so humid i've been wearing a sweat suit for the last two days, meaning a fine layer of sweat covering my body that showering, air conditioning et al does nothing for... with the imaginary boy on vacation i took the opportunity to stay out late and hang with the hipsters, who don't like the scenesters, who don't like the hipsters, confused? me too, i do believe i'm getting old cuz i don't have the uniform to wear that all the kids are sporting these days, "they" being those independently thinking hipsters who look alike, talk alike, act alike, have catchy nicknames like Red and Radio, are working on serious art projects and look down their nose at old guys like me who read to much cuz i must be an asshole, they seem to detest my whole commodification of the scene speech which i admit gets boring but it's awfully fun pissing the cool kids off quoting Foucault and Derrida and in general being a prick cuz i don't have enough tattoo's or shit stuck through my face and my argument that if you want to be anti-establishment wear a suit and subvert from the inside, it's much more adventurous that way, but these kids usually just hurummph and walk off...

sitting and drinking at the bar and it's late and i'm wondering what the fuck am i doing here? i used to like this shit but now i'd rather listen to my own tunes or watch the cars speed down my street or watch Sky Sports news and hear that latest footie news, the only solace is that someone played Joy Division and as i sit and sing along in my head i light a cigarette to be cool and finish my beer as the song ends... even talking to an attractive woman gets boring and i really wonder what the fuck's wrong with me but in the end i realize i don't want to be bothered cuz i've got like serious art projects to work on and shit like that, so in mid conversation i just get up and leave not trying to be rude but basically thinking that my couch would be a better place to hang out than this scene, missing the imaginary boy even though i will enjoy sleeping in come saturday morning and it gets a bit scary cuz fuck man am i growing up or somethin? i hope not. I don't think i am but sometimes these things sneak up on you, so i take some "pain reliever" and drink some ice cold water and stare at the telly and pet my cat Luis Garcia Shinoba Diego Rivera Marquez and listen to the crickets outside my door singing day in/ day out/ day in/ day out/ day in/ day out cue Bernard Sumner now.