indie-trendy (a completely stereotypical l rant for no good reason)

I don't feel cool when i walk into a room of indie rock stars. but my family is made up of indie rock star. It's like 3 parts awkward normal, 2 parts rock star. My cousin took part in inventing it's conversations. I mean, his conversations were happening before, they're just louder now. I want to reinvent something. Something emo. Something indie-trendy.

I want to make it cool to wear Gap boyfriend trousers, clogs, and not straighten your hair. And I want everyone to walk around in ballet flats.

even the boys.

The truth is, in humdinger Sebastian fl, there isn't much indie going on.
We're all white trash striving to appear middle class.

But it seems to me that Indie-trendy is only cool if you have the money to dress nice but choose to shop at Goodwill anyways.

The important thing is that they all appear to care about important causes. And they do that by reading and posting crummy bulletins about tons of worthwhile non-profits. I wish we gave them more credit.And they show how much they care about nonprofits by pretending they don't have time to care about their appearance. They spend hours on the messy hair look. They attempt to NOT match in the coolest way possible. They put on all of their clothes or none of their clothes. They cut themselves. They metaphorically dance through their problems by wearing ballet flats. even the boys.(I'm dreaming big here.)

It all seems so shallow. So filled with cares concerning concern for the burdened: themselves.

...and yet they are so dang alluring.

I am stuck between Gap Outlet sundresses and indie-trendy neon glasses.

I am stuck between wearing a crimson cashmere cardigan or going in my pj's wearing Uggs and NOT brushing my hair. and accessorizing with everything I own.

And so I sit here in my paisley brown covers wearing half a bathing suit, athletic shorts from Target, and a Gap hoodie. To the left of me is a book inspiring the spiritual and psychological womanness I possess. and a half broken motorola phone that can't hold a charge. I am typing on my macbook that is now accessorized to look like a pumkin and my hair isn't brushed, and my heating pad is on high and ballet flats are scattered in an array of ROYGBIV on my wooden floor. and I wonder how indie trendy all of this must appear. In my girly time of the month. Without chocolate or boys.