Your Taste’s Funny

   Ya know, one of those things in life that people just can’t take from you, as much as they may try, is your taste. It’s all you baby and the world is better for it. The thing about life, about humans, is that it’s the things that make us different that make us so magnificent. These are the things that make life so interesting. Whether it is politics, religion, or whether you like the taste of apricots or not it is what makes us different that makes us all so similar.

Wha?

You ask.

It is because we are so different that it makes us question who we are and what we love and this is what makes us stronger, wiser people. If we don’t understand why we love the things we love and don’t like other things, if we don’t question ourselves then we lose who we are. But in the end it’s what we like and don’t like, it’s these core decisions that form the people we are.

   So, saying all that we come back around to the matter of taste. Something I always sorta have on my mind. As opinionated as I am I really do love people’s tastes. I mean, I don’t always appreciate it but I love it just the same. I really just wish that everyone else had the same appreciation. Somewhere in growing up we decide that the more people differ from us the more we should distance ourselves from them. We get older and we start to narrow our views, stop questioning why we like the things we do, and start judging everyone else that shows any distinction as weird.

   I always get a laugh when I hear that someone that collects something needs to grow up. I laugh because it usually comes from someone who, if you look just a little, is usually the last person to start casting stones. Me, I love movies, and toys, and horror stuff, and that’s just some of the stuff I dig on and my apartment reflects my tastes. Does it look like the apartment of a man that’s 37?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But who really cares?

What does it matter?

If being a bit dorky and showing that off makes me happy then what problem is it?

   The issue is that for some reason we’re all so darn stuck on this silly notion of what an adult is, of what growing up means and in the process of playing dress up we lose sight of who we are, and who we were. We lose sight of the things that make us unique. We fall in love with the color tan, with paintings of beaches, and with condensed books. We portray the things we believe makes up adulthood. I can get behind having nice furniture, being responsible, and evolving your taste but outright losing that taste because you feel you have to to be adult is ridiculous. It’s childish. Growing up and adulthood means something different to every person out there but what it really means is to take ownership of your life. It means that you are responsible for yourself and what you do. The rest of it is window dressing. And when someone deems themselves the person that gets to tell you how mature or immature you are odds are they are also a person prime for dumping from your life.

Now, as for me, I am gonna revel in my movie posters, collectibles, and nerdery and be happy that I have some things that reflect my personality and not the status I want to project.

Boom.

c