Entry No.003: Boxes
More now than ever before I am coming to the realization that I've had a fear of boxes through most of my life. In some weird way I mean that both in a figurative and literal sense and it all brought itself forward by one of my favorite music artists.
I don't know much about 8485 but I found them through my 2020 hyperpop deep dive even though they're not necessarily hyperpop. The first song of theirs I found, 1:15, I remember loving for its bubbly beat and lyrics that encapsulated the gushy crushes I had at the time. I listened to their other songs and really didn't like them. Down the line, something acted as a catalyst and 1:15 is now probably my least favorite of theirs, 8485's writing captures something so much more than what's in that one song.
Their music forces me into a state of reminiscence without fail, however, there's a song that I want to talk about specifically, Hanger. When I listen to Hanger, I'm immediately transported to my hometown, it's not small yet it feels so barren of life, the most entertainment we had was driving around. 8485 describes their town to be suffocating, that they want to get out but realistically they won't, and how in the moment, driving around in that car it all feels so far in the future and the walls of their box are glass.
I was lucky enough to grow up most of my childhood with two parents in the house I'd known since birth. My environment was so stagnant and consistent I grew so incredibly use to it. Through a mixture of not great life choices and my parent's divorce, it became so easy to wallow and cope in the sanctity of the room I had so carefully curated for myself. As I grew older though, the unrest I had internally gained was tearing at the seams. I rotated through relationships super fast, I was inconsistent with my friendships, jumping from group to group and never wanting to be trapped. Especially through covid I uprooted a lot of things for the sake of avoiding that glass box.
I think I initially gravitated to Hanger because I could relate to driving around as an escape. It was the only time I had to myself and could shamelessly sing my heart out. That's really not all there is to it though. The pressure of my experiences kept pushing me away from people, I felt that same suffocating feeling just living in the house I had experienced so much hurt in. My dad moving out gave me some nice breathing room but still I knew one thing: I couldn't stay here under any circumstances. Masking and repressing myself so much I became so disconnected from who I wanted to be and who I was. I thought if I didn't ground myself to one spot, I could avoid it, but in spite of my efforts, it kept up.
Alongside this I had an awful fear of moving, I was so comfortable in my glass box that any idea of going outside it was scarier than the box itself. I still made it into college. The change of scenery laid all of this out in the open and I could branch out into who I wanted to be. I still wanted to run. I still felt too close to my old self. I have a fear now, more than ever, of returning back to where I started and being perceived how others use to perceive me.
Now, I move basically every four months (because of school lol). The box that I so often interact with between moves has become some odd metaphor; the thing I so fear being trapped in is my tool of escape. Encasing everything that helps define me as a person within it.
Whatever that means. I still struggle with being categorized, in my ideal state, you can't refer to me at all except pointing at me when I'm in the room. Hope this offered someone something to relate to and hopefully not, please please please be yourself to the truest extent. People can suck but in the greater picture, they're a grain of sand in your life.
Thanks for reading :)