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Two Sides of Punk
I am a punk, though you wouldnít know by looking at me. My short, almost military haircut doesnít look shockingly spiked with gel. My hair is its original dark brown color, and I wear clean, matching clothes. But in my heart I am all punk. I write songs criticizing those who judge me and my life: organized religion, the military, and close-minded societies as a whole, all of which I have too much experience with. But in my punk attitude I play by the rules. I hold a steady, well paying job. I show up on time and work on what Iíve been assigned. But Iím always aware of injustice lurking around the corner.
My brother is your classic punk. His hair is disheveled; no hair gel or even a comb has touched it in a year. This is just the latest in a long list of hairstyles ranging from shaved to a 6 inch multicolored mohawk. His clothes never match; sometimes they are washed. Most of his clothes are self-decorated with patches and paintings. And he really should shower more in my opinion. His main mode of transportation is his skateboard, which he risks getting ticketed for on a daily basis. His political views put him at odds with almost every aspect of society.
He is viewed as a punk, a deadbeat, a troublemaker, while I am viewed as responsible, intelligent, and a good kid. Our political views are very similar, though he takes them to greater extremes than I. Does his look make him any more of a punk than myself? Society may think so, but I donít listen to society. That is the spirit of punk.
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