I just finished reading Chronicles: Volume One by Bob Dylan. The funny thing about this feat is that I’ve had this book for about 3 to 4 years. Throughout that time I kept picking it up with the intentions of finishing it, but usually another task interfered with the readings and the book would fall somewhere in the shadows.

Whenever I did pick up the book, it was never boring. I’ve always been fascinated by Dylan. Felt like we came from the same vein. Thought the same. Viewed the world in the same light. I know that’s probably the feeling most people have when it come to celebrities, but I honestly don’t really feel this way about any other public figure.

Go figure.

Reading Chronicles only established my belief that we sort of have common viewpoints on life. Whether it has to do with his name change, because it better fit who he saw himself as, or his complete  and passionate dedication to subjects that he cared about.

What also has grabbed my attention, in terms of Dylan, is his style. Now, I highly doubt that he put a lot of thought into what he wore–simply because it’s not the “rock and roll” thing to do–,but his style, nonetheless is his own.

The unkept Jew fro.

The favoritism of jeans over anything else.

Blazers galore.

The shades

Bob Dylan truly is a legend.

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