who knew i could spend so much time talking about so little of a thing!

Definitions. What is the meaning of _____? What small sequence of words can encompass such a large idea? How can you condense and contain a complicated concept into a limited definition? Or maybe words aren’t enough. Maybe dictionaries do a shitty job at what they’re supposed to do. To me, life is more than just words on a page. Life is thoughts and sounds and sights and experiences. Lyrics ring truer than any material object I’ve ever known, and scents and smells bring back distant memories of good times. Symbols. What one thing can stand for so much more? What object, in all of its simplicity, can suddenly bring to mind a multitude of meanings?

The answer to this question, at least in my case, is Fay-bans. [a word of my own dialect, more commonly known as fake Ray-Bans™] They define and symbolize the very essence of me. I worship this mere accessory, simply for the reason that they make me feel like me, they make that image reflected on my mirror look like something I aspire to be. They represent the good and bad, but mostly good, of who I am and what I represent.

I have four pairs of these beasts of an accessory. My first pair, a.k.a. Mr. Ray Charles, are all black, the traditional Ray-Ban style. …minus the fact that the lenses are COMPLETELY dark. This particular characteristic causes me to bear an uncanny resemblance to one popular pianist of the past that just happens to be blind. They stole my sunglasses virginity [I was never a fan before I found these beauties while on my trip to Boston last fall] and they stole my heart. When I wear them, no one can see what I’m thinking, no one can even attempt to decipher what these eyes are begging to say.

They bring to mind a particular song and lyric that plays over and over in my head whenever I hear it. Starving Your Friends by Envy on the Coast. Listen to it. It’s good.

“I know you think you know, but these eyelids are windows that shut you out from all the things that I don’t want you to know, and I refuse to tell you one single secret I own, cause you’ll find I’m petrified of your eyes.”

I am who I am, but you most likely don’t have the remotest idea what that means. There’s so much more to me than what most people know… There are so many pieces to this puzzle of a person. And the truth is, I most likely won’t tell you. I’m absolutely frightened of what you’ll think, what you’ll say, or what you’ll do. So I hide behind these eyelids and these lenses, making it impossible for you to even begin to know what’s ticking in this crazy head I call my own.

My second pair is a great asset to my collection for two reasons: 1.) They are pink! and 2.) They make me look a little less like I’m akin to Carol who also lost her sight in some tragic chemistry accident a few years back. Basically, at the core of the significance behind these magenta sunglasses, is the fact that it’s litearlly impossible for anyone to hold back a smile while wearing magenta sunglasses. That would be treason! If you know me at all, you know that I am crazy, fun, and a little bit out there. What better accessory than hot pink sunglasses can prove that?

Now, the significance behind my third pair is laughable, if not a tad bit regrettable… But who cares, it’s the truth. For some reason, I have this deathly want to project a certain image… Not because I think its ‘cool,’ or because its ‘in fashion,’ but simply because I think it embodies what I want to be more of: laid-back, naturally chill, and warm. I have this irreconcilable want to be this hybrid image of an oddly strange combination of the indie-hipster-scenekid-hippie scenes. Embarrassing, I know. But these sunglasses make me feel like that. They lower my blood pressure to an almost normal level, and make my stress almost magically fade away. Simply, they make me happy. Their tan-tinted lenses make it summer all of the time… Blues look a little bluer… browns look a little warmer… and life seems a little bit brighter. These glasses change how I see the world and more importantly, how I see myself. Who can blame me for wanting that?

And for my newest addition [hence the amazing photo!]! I bought these stunnerz yesterday, and basically, they are the definition of sexy. They have black frames with randomly colored paint splatter strewn all across them, and I love them! No one else does, but I don’t care. They are all over the place, as am I, crazy, also like me, and weird, a word that definitely could be used to describe me.

Anyways, the point is, my Fay-Bans describe me. They define me, they symbolize me, they embody me. No matter how random it may be, something simple can define the unclassifiable. What defines you? Or more importantly, what do you want to define you? Or maybe you, too, can’t be confined to mere symbols and definitions. Whatever it may be, let me know, I’d love to get to know you just a little bit better.