I've grown certain that the root of all fear is that we've been forced to deny who we are. - Frances Moore
What do you do for a living? What kinda car do you drive? What neighborhood do you live in?
Are you single? Married? Engaged? Is it serious?
How much money do you make? What do you want to accomplish with your life?
What church to you go to? What's your favorite place to buy clothes?
What's your style?
Who in the world are you? Society tells us that the answers to the above questions tell you a lot about yourself or someone else. We've got expectations, gosh darn it, and you'd better meet them if you're gonna be with us. Every day it's the same old story. A sorority girl spends hours in front of the mirror to make sure she's meeting the expectations and every day loses more of herself in the doing. Some dude chills by himself on a bench around campus cause he doesn't drink it up, smoke it up or sex it up like everybody else. An intellectual kid sits in his philosophy class and pretends to agree with the rampant liberalism around him while he's rebelling inside, but he's gotta meet the standards.
It's the new style.
Conformism is all the rage. I already know with a certainty that some people who will read this are going to be bristling at that last statement. Hear me out before you start telling me that you don't conform, because it's a bunch of crap. We all conform, more than we realize, and it's a problem that is reflected in our culture's identity crisis. The girl that reps the Abercrombie, American Eagle and Aeropostale brands is no more of a conformist than the chick that throws down in the mosh pit with tattoos and gauges. Commercialization is a wonderful thing: it's almost impossible to be any kind of anti-conformist without conforming to anti-conformity. Did you catch that, or do I need to slow down?
How about this: If we rely on our clothes, cars, jobs, money, and things to define who we are, anti-conformity and counterculture are both impossible to achieve.
To be honest, I'm rather disgusted with the whole thing myself. I can't walk on campus without having at least one or two nauseating moments because I've come to realize that everybody is just doing whatever they think is going to make them special, different, satisfied, or whatever. Some people chase sex. Some people chase drugs. Some people hit the bars and clubs. Others depend on their intellectual superiority. A lot look to their, ironically, looks and clothes to be noticed.
"Man, they swear they so gangster, everyone the same, everybody do the same stuff: tattoos, piercings, smoking up and drinking, money, sex, plus them extravagant weekends. Man, if that's the high life, I'm gonna puff, puff past that." - Lecrae, "Rebel"
Quit looking to all of this trash to tell you who you are, who you should be, and who the heck you're supposed to associate with. Stop thinking you're going to find satisfaction by having someone new in your bed every night. Cease and desist, if you please. It won't do you or anyone else any good. The only thing it leads to is destruction of identity. You might physically survive the experience, but it is going to be emotionally and spiritually painful when one day you wake up, look around, and realize everything you've done is absolutely meaningless.
Don't believe me? Wait a few years. Keep doing what you're doing. I won't be there to say, "I told you so." You'll find me in my room, reading your confused Facebook status or Twitter update, letting the tears run down my face. There's nothing I can do or say to stop some of you from wasting your lives. I've wasted enough of mine trying to fit in so I might not be left standing alone after the dust of a situation settles. The toughest part is looking back and saying to yourself, "What a waste all of this has been. Where did I go wrong?"
The answer, of course, is quite simple: We've lost our identities amidst the distractions and shiny objects of our culture and society.
It's rather easy to get distracted. We've got new televisions, cars, cellphones, computers, clothes, shoes, jewelry, and whatever else to keep us busy - too busy to realize we're being completely and utterly manipulated into a life of worthlessness. We're too busy to make real connections with other people. We're too engaged with our stuff and our own egos to look around and say, "Hey ... There's some dude over there that might be kinda cool." No one looks hard enough into the soul of another human being anymore. And, perhaps the worst offense, is that we don't spend enough time looking into our own souls to realize the monsters we've become.
It's quite true. We're a bunch of civilized, cultured, monsters that disregard the hearts, minds and souls of others so we can keep our shiny new toys or keep chasing after our fix: whether it be drugs, alcohol, sex, money, materialism, whatever. Yeah, it doesn't matter who we destroy as long as we keep on getting what we think we need to define ourselves and find satisfaction. It disgusts me.
Are you single? Married? Engaged? Is it serious?
How much money do you make? What do you want to accomplish with your life?
What church to you go to? What's your favorite place to buy clothes?
What's your style?
Who in the world are you? Society tells us that the answers to the above questions tell you a lot about yourself or someone else. We've got expectations, gosh darn it, and you'd better meet them if you're gonna be with us. Every day it's the same old story. A sorority girl spends hours in front of the mirror to make sure she's meeting the expectations and every day loses more of herself in the doing. Some dude chills by himself on a bench around campus cause he doesn't drink it up, smoke it up or sex it up like everybody else. An intellectual kid sits in his philosophy class and pretends to agree with the rampant liberalism around him while he's rebelling inside, but he's gotta meet the standards.
It's the new style.
Conformism is all the rage. I already know with a certainty that some people who will read this are going to be bristling at that last statement. Hear me out before you start telling me that you don't conform, because it's a bunch of crap. We all conform, more than we realize, and it's a problem that is reflected in our culture's identity crisis. The girl that reps the Abercrombie, American Eagle and Aeropostale brands is no more of a conformist than the chick that throws down in the mosh pit with tattoos and gauges. Commercialization is a wonderful thing: it's almost impossible to be any kind of anti-conformist without conforming to anti-conformity. Did you catch that, or do I need to slow down?
How about this: If we rely on our clothes, cars, jobs, money, and things to define who we are, anti-conformity and counterculture are both impossible to achieve.
To be honest, I'm rather disgusted with the whole thing myself. I can't walk on campus without having at least one or two nauseating moments because I've come to realize that everybody is just doing whatever they think is going to make them special, different, satisfied, or whatever. Some people chase sex. Some people chase drugs. Some people hit the bars and clubs. Others depend on their intellectual superiority. A lot look to their, ironically, looks and clothes to be noticed.
"Man, they swear they so gangster, everyone the same, everybody do the same stuff: tattoos, piercings, smoking up and drinking, money, sex, plus them extravagant weekends. Man, if that's the high life, I'm gonna puff, puff past that." - Lecrae, "Rebel"
Quit looking to all of this trash to tell you who you are, who you should be, and who the heck you're supposed to associate with. Stop thinking you're going to find satisfaction by having someone new in your bed every night. Cease and desist, if you please. It won't do you or anyone else any good. The only thing it leads to is destruction of identity. You might physically survive the experience, but it is going to be emotionally and spiritually painful when one day you wake up, look around, and realize everything you've done is absolutely meaningless.
Don't believe me? Wait a few years. Keep doing what you're doing. I won't be there to say, "I told you so." You'll find me in my room, reading your confused Facebook status or Twitter update, letting the tears run down my face. There's nothing I can do or say to stop some of you from wasting your lives. I've wasted enough of mine trying to fit in so I might not be left standing alone after the dust of a situation settles. The toughest part is looking back and saying to yourself, "What a waste all of this has been. Where did I go wrong?"
The answer, of course, is quite simple: We've lost our identities amidst the distractions and shiny objects of our culture and society.
It's rather easy to get distracted. We've got new televisions, cars, cellphones, computers, clothes, shoes, jewelry, and whatever else to keep us busy - too busy to realize we're being completely and utterly manipulated into a life of worthlessness. We're too busy to make real connections with other people. We're too engaged with our stuff and our own egos to look around and say, "Hey ... There's some dude over there that might be kinda cool." No one looks hard enough into the soul of another human being anymore. And, perhaps the worst offense, is that we don't spend enough time looking into our own souls to realize the monsters we've become.
It's quite true. We're a bunch of civilized, cultured, monsters that disregard the hearts, minds and souls of others so we can keep our shiny new toys or keep chasing after our fix: whether it be drugs, alcohol, sex, money, materialism, whatever. Yeah, it doesn't matter who we destroy as long as we keep on getting what we think we need to define ourselves and find satisfaction. It disgusts me.
Skillet - "Monster"
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