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Erin Incoherent on the State of Punk and Addiction


Photo by Steph Czapla


The age of frustration.
The age of not knowing where to go but knowing I can’t stay here.
The age where my friends should know better
Or at least know how to make themselves a balanced meal.
The age of shitty politics and toxic scene culture.
It frustrates me
Because punk should care.
But maybe its not punk to blame?
That’s mostly a joke

This is a culture of the mentally ill enabling the highly addicted.
We have no coping skills and still we stomp out the few resources that manage to grow their way through the sidewalk cracks. 
We scoff at accessible narcane, citing that it is the local heroine dealer we should instead be focused on murdering.

These people are our friends.

To me, it would appear that we’re all afraid. 
Afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. 
Afraid to truly be ourselves because of where that might put us in our social queue

Frustration. Settles. In.

The large feeling of nothing taunts me and fills me.

It might fill me with answers if its sheer mass didn’t intimidate me to such a degree that I find it easier to just bite off as much as I can try to chew.

But it’s all fat; gristle.

It’s not easy to chew on, either. Nothing with substance seems to be.

And I wonder if these frustrated thoughts could somehow be turned into a fuel. 
A propellant of sorts that’s geared toward helping people think critically and compassionately about their fellow human.

The other side of my dichotomy pulls violently towards nihilism. ‘Fuck people.’ It whispers. 
‘They are terrible and existence is meaningless.’ 
I shrug. 
Hey, it’s not wrong. 
But then, what to do with all this spare time existing? 
Seems a shame to waste this conciousness.

Perhaps I can find a home in poorly executed anarchist ideals. Or learn to be comfortable with all my glaring hipocracies. 
This ever deepening nihilism seems to be ripening my psyche quite nicely….

Or maybe I’ll see where these expressions of art, and outbursts of creation and anger lead me.

My hands twitch in anticipation.
My mind runs faster than even I can keep up with.

I’m not sure I’m bored enough yet.

This vessel will self destruct one day.

I guess I’ll see what can be done with all this spare time until then.

Into the Void – collage by Erin Incoherent

You can find more of Erin’s work by following her on Instagram and on Facebook

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