Dear Punk,

Posted: April 9, 2014 in Uncategorized

Fish Of Gold

This is a letter to the genre of music, not necessarily anyone called Punk. If your name is Punk, I’m sorry for the confusion. Perhaps you should pick a less confusing and ridiculous moniker.

Anyway, dear punk, the genre. Thanks. Some say you are dead, but you’re not. You live on in our hearts.

When I was about thirteen years old, I hadn’t met you yet. I was a straight-laced, quiet girl with terrible hair and even worse glasses. My mother with her curly, thick English-German hair didn’t understand the concept of straight Nordic blonde hair and forced me to get perms to make my hair curly, which just made it worse. Straight blonde Nordic hair doesn’t take well to perms.

I was not cool or popular or anything at all really. I had no sense of identity. I was white paint, vanilla pudding, a clean chalkboard. I wanted to…

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