Transcending back into my adolescent and teenage years, thinking back to days spent in my room bored, staring at bleak walls, with nowhere to go but with a destination other than the slow paced suburbs in mind.
Dwelling. Wondering. Wanting to escape and immerse myself into a different scene. A scene of city streets, bustling with lights and sounds and above all, LIFE.
A scene that came alive as the night grew. A scene that had places to see. A scene to be part of.
Reminiscing about the days of old, where I’d gather with high school friends to plan our temporary escape to the city. Subways, dirty streets, businessmen, the men and women with no shelter, the malls, the shops, the hipsters and the unusual. The sights of a new, where things were a little less simple and a bit more complicated.
We were divided from the simplicity of the suburbs. We were divided by the way we dressed, the music we chose to listen to, by the way we expressed ourselves and by the people we associated with.
The alternative culture waiting for us, it was exciting to be part of for a 14 year-old looking for a new outlet. Wasting time with conversations that held no intellectual value, but held some sort of significances in our minds regardless of how silly the context may have been.
Looking back, the suburbs itself has changed greatly.
A place now where individuals are consumed by their newly developed houses, luxury cars parked on flawlessly paved driveways and a generation too absorbed with pretentious things to worry or care about the world around them.
Children consumed by technology who have let go of all that is tangible.
And now, that alternative culture that I craved for is always around me, I crave for the days I spent alone in my room, bored with no place to go.
And so, my nostalgia is shared with the Arcade Fire on their latest album “The Suburbs”, pulling me into a past that can no longer be reclaimed.
X O X O