What pop culture taught me pt. II

12 Nov

Nachdem ich das erste Gedicht über meine Erkenntnisse aus Popkultur schrieb, fielen mir ungefähr siebenhundert andere Dinge zu diesem Thema ein. Deshalb dachte ich, wenn es so unzählige, untalentierte Young Male Writer™ gibt, warum mach ich nicht eine „Gedichte“-Reihe? Was hab ich bei dem vorhandenen Angebot schon zu verlieren, mein ich? (Sämtlichen Respekt in der Blogosphäre, vermutlich. Hoffen wir mal, dass es nicht so eintritt.)

Dieses Mal gibt es sogar ein mit Herzblut und übelst professionell auf Photoshop erstelltes Bannerbild dazu.

manicpixie

We know her.
We’ve all seen her:
The Manic Pixie Dream Girl

It’s Kirsten Dunst in “Elizabethtown”
Or Natalie Portman in “Garden State”
Or Cassie from “Skins”
Or Zooey Deschanel in basically every movie she’s ever been in

Every piece of pop culture
that wants to have the “indie” label
needs one.
I want to be one.

She’s a walking Instagram-filter
vintage on so many levels
her great second-hand-style
an impressive taste in music
including a slightly off-beat favourite band
like The Shins
Or The Smiths

With her cute fringe
her nerdy glasses
big headphones
and eccentric habits

She’s a sucker for red wine
She loves poetry
written by old white men

Being both aesthetically and
intellectually stimulating
she’s still kind of awkward
and of course:
Super-quirky!

You had me at her
bi-curious history

I kind of wish I was part of that
her philosophy of life
is like… wooooah
And every dude falls hopelessly in love with her.

I am she. Except: I’m not.

First of all
because I’m too fat.
All Manic Pixie Dream Girls are skinny fairies, duh!

Then, I am more than
Just a little melancholic
I’m fucking depressed.
I have a mental disorder
This kind of apathy does not go away
from dancing to “Come on Eileen”
While only wearing panties
I put the manic in Manic Pixie Dream Girl.

I don’ exist to make a
nerdy frustrated guy’s dick wet
or to teach him how to find joy in life.

I do things
More than failing at playing
more than two proper songs
on my cheap ukulele

It’s more than doodling around
I have fucking goals in life
I do notice guys shrieking away
when I say that I
actually have ambitions

I am de facto a
better writer than these
pseudo-intellectual misogynists

I am not a dream character
Not a concept to make dudes feel complete
or  “alive”
It’s not my job
And I still have my own shit to carry

Manic Pixie Dream Girls don’t exist
they are just a projection

Of young male writers
Like these “lesbian porn characters”
with fingernails longer than an average dyke’s hair

An illusion, unreal
Something they never had
But yet crave so much.

And I’m queer anyway.

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