Contrasting Another to Defining Myself...

During my junior year of high school I met Mike who ended up being more than he seemed. But throughout my entire road of discovery with him he never seemed to change. Like the sun as it rises over the world he just seemed to be steadfast in his ways. Clearly affecting the people and situations that he touched but never allowing them to touch him. This is not to say that he never grew and changed, but it was always of his own accord.
He dressed in this same fashion, almost as if taking the earth itself and molding it into his own fashion. He was never afraid of color, pattern, or the texture of his clothing. He would pull rainbows from his closet on certain occasions and amaze me with his ability to form a functioning outfit. Never aware of brand, labels, or styles. He also never let the weight or time impact his style. If the cuffs of his pants were ground into Swiss cheese he would simple shred them into something most people would have considered destroyed. But no, he would make them into shorts and wear them to his comfort. Even when he was forced into the mainstream of the black and white he retained his rings, bracelets, and worn converses. Always the steady rock in an ever changing stream of culture.
Unlike him I love that stream of cultural thought, though I’ve always been able to fly over it and even direct it on occasion. I can usually be seen as a walking contradiction an amalgamation of ideas and thoughts into something that is uniquely me. I can run to my closet and pull out Valentino shirts and Gap brand jeans, but still have handmade jewelry from flea markets and second hand blazers. The weight of the world bears hard on me. I’ll discard things and mourn over their ruination but never think twice about dramatically changing them into something new. I see the blinding lights of Pop culture and instead of following the paths they layout I grab little of each and take the path less traveled.
Mike also was never afraid to start something or speak on something that he believed in. He never seemed to have to worry about what was happening because he didn’t care what others thought about him. From what he did or who he was with it never really posed as a challenge for him. He even told his parents that he was Bi-sexual and within a month had a steady girlfriend just think of their confusion. I’m at a lost for how he does it. I can be myself and be completely different because I want to but, never have I forgotten that people are watching. It’s a delicate play of opinions and an over calculation of ideas streaming through my head. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the ability to ignore what the world thinks of me. If I’ll ever have the strength to fall like snowflakes. Only knowing the ending of its descent, but not caring about the path that it takes to get there.
Mike always did things for the sake of doing them and never for the actual results. He dyed his hair because he felt like it not because he thought it was cool; he sold local art of tee-shirts not because he even intended to get rich off of it but because he wanted to do it. He is the sixties re-invented or the seventies re-engineered. I’m not any of that I’m today I don’t even really know if I’m tomorrow. Mike never cared if he was labeled I dreaded it. I see myself as so much more than I time period, an outfit, a phrase or a mannerism.
I want to be bohemian and live for the arts or hedonist and live for my own pleasures. I want to take what the world has and use its own essence to change it. Life is a Cabaret, come to the Cabaret. Mike never saw life that way he took what the world gave him and love ever second of that. In a way I feel cheated to live life that way.