i’ve been consuming too much
binging biographies
we are definitely masters of fiction. humans feed on stories and brands. everything we do and do not do gets written into our own story and brand.
we refuse to be labeled, but labels are everywhere. even refusing to have a label has its own label. every aesthetic and every sub-aesthetic gets its own name. even having an eclectic or jumbled aesthetic has its own name.
i do not want to care about how i get perceived as by the world. i try my best to not want to be perceived even. i refuse to be held up on a pedestal - to be adored to be something i am not.
but it’s messed up: i’m the one who’s giving the materials. the things i choose to post, the way i refuse to post further... it all adds to who i am. it adds to my brand. the things that spark my interest, the values i hold, the people i adore, the music i listen to, the books i read, the words i speak, the clothes i wear, the academic track i’ve chosen, the smiles i share, the art i consume, the films i watch, the things i find beautiful.
the little things, a new sentence, a new brush stroke, every rebrand. it all makes sense, it all doesn’t. it all makes me better and it all makes me worse. a brand with buyers that come and go. a brand that finds it hard to find a market. hopefully and hopelessly, a brand that matters, a story that lives on.
