Cool

I can’t explain what being cool really means
I’m probably too old to solve this useless enigma
For I’m not a sphinx
Or maybe it’s simply because I am not cool anymore…

Did I mention I’m too old ?
I’m 45 by the way, which highlights lots of things !

But when I was young, I thought I used to be cool.
I was listening to post punk and new wave music. Cool.
I was wearing black clothes. Cool.
I used to ready dark and morbid authors such as Baudelaire, Poe, Moore

Moore, the comics writer, not the poet. Cool.

Feeling as depressed and despaired as a Gotham criminal

I used to be intimidated by all those jocks. Used to be mocked each time I tried to say something. Used to hide at the library. Used to eat my lunch in the locker room because I was too shy to sit at the cafeteria. Being all by myself. That was cool.

I was a gang all by myself

 

 

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