True or False

Dudes

Written by: Devan

This is my first article, and I must say, the preparation for this piece wasn’t quite as astute and diligent as I’d hoped. While I was tarring through my room in a frantic rampage to find my journal, trying to ignore how loudly my mother was yelling at the next-door neighbor’s dog for tracking mud into the house, and tuning out my younger sister and her friend in the room next to mine as they blasted Fergie and giggled about Lindsay Lohan’s fake breasts, a thought suddenly bubbled into my mind. The thought was fierce and clear: how many fake people are there in the sXe scene today? I thought back to the years when I had first come across the concept of straight edge.

The philosophy was an enigma to me, but it was how I was already living my life, and after recovering from a severe alcohol addiction induced from a young age, it was wonderful to feel the warmth and support I got from the straight edge friends I had made while I was making the final transitions to ultimate sobriety. That year I took a long, hard look at the straight edge people I had met, and grew to love and respect them for the people they were and the mature, intelligent decisions they made. I became straight edge in early January of that year, making a strong and indestructible oath to myself that I would never go back to the way things once were.

What does this have to do with fakeness in the sXe scene?
Nothing.
I just wanted to give you a little insight on where I’m coming from.
Here’s where the real fun begins:

On my early journey to the discovery of straight edge music and people, I noticed staggering numbers of the individuals who were walking around with X’s marked on their hands and beating the crap out of kids for showing up high or drunk at straight edge shows, were the exact people I’d find smoking behind gas stations and begging people to buy them vodka by the down town Minnie Mart. I found myself thinking, what the hell? These kids parade around with cocky smiles on their faces, telling everyone within a five mile radius how hardcore straight edge they are, and now I find them sniffing icky stuff up their nose and gulping down gallons of alcohol? Whoa. Seriously, guys, what the hell?

Did they even truthfully know what being straight edge meant? Or was it the alluring feeling of belonging to a certain group of people who you thought were the absolute essence of “Coolidge”? Who cares if you completely shatter the beliefs of what the real people in the sXe scene are upholding and staying true to and fighting every day to obtain, as long as you do it behind their backs and go to all the shows, right? No. Wrong. Utterly and entirely 200,000% i-g-n-o-r-a-n-c-e.

To break edge is one thing, it’s your own life and you can do whatever you want with it as long as you stick with you decision and you’re willing to live with the consequences. But to claim that you’re straight edge one day and then shoot up and drink the other day, I’m sorry, but I must say that is total…well…bull. Not only is it lying to the people you have led to believe you follow the same sacred dreams as them, it’s lying to yourself.

To me, straight edge is not about becoming something just so you can impress other people into thinking you’re awesome, it’s about making a brave and permanent promise to yourself that you will never hurt your body with toxic scum and hateful thinking. Sure, I know it’s terrific to feel like you belong and that you’re apart of something, but none of it is worth it if all your doing is living a lie.

So my advice to the newer additions to the ever-growing straight edge family is: think. That’s all. Just think. It’s not that hard to do. Think about this decision, because whether you realize it or not, its life-changing. Think about how becoming straight edge will cleanse your body, mind, and soul, introduce you to kind-hearted, strong people, and kick-ass music. Becoming edge is not about the X’s on your hands, the kids you roll with, or the shows you go to.
It’s about living a poison-free life.
It’s about living.

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