Growing up I almost never watched t.v. My dad was one of THOSE guys. So no t.v, and no decent computer because I loved gaming. Of course the games that DID run I played for 6-7 hours straight if I could (on holidays when my parents left for work). All my friends had cool computers and cable t.v. I hated my dad for depriving me that.
I read a lot. A LOT. and I read anything I could get my hands on. Novels, Comics, Self-help books and even those women magazines where chicks asked advice for their crappy sex lives. Note that I was 10 maybe 11 and those mags were forbidden, which made reading them all the more fun. I hated school. But I did’t mind reading the textbooks so i wasn’t THAT bad at some subjects. but I preferred what I called “real” books. So my father came up with the “one book per visit” policy. Basically every time he took me to the bookstore I could pick one book only. Torturous. So I read them over and over again. I read The lord of the rings more times then i care to remember. The inheritance cycle a couple of dozen times, His dark materials at least 20 times. I borrowed books from my cousin on the sly, I would sneak them into my backpack when my father wasn’t looking and read them incognito.
In 2003 I was in third grade and I remember I was at my a friend’s house, surfing through their t.v when i happened upon a local music channel, the kind that had lots of adverts on screen and the actual music video is barely visible, and I saw something that would stay with me for a long time after. This guy was doing something. Something so awesome it gave me goosebumps. He was moving, and talking, and the words were just magical, flowing to the rhythm of the music. That guy, I would later find out was mike shinoda. Vocalist of the band linkin park, and he was rapping. The song was in in the end. And i was in love.
So i begged my neighbor, an older kid, to gimme a c.d with linkin park’s songs. I think I bugged him for a week before he got pissed off, asked me to get an empty DVD (which i stole from my dad) and he disappeared inside. I stuck around the wall that separated our houses for an hour before he came out, and threw the disk at me, “Next time i’m going to charge you for this.” I ran inside, fired up the old computer, stuck the DVD in, and all hell broke loose.
Hybrid Theory and Meteora were the only albums out at that time by linkin park. And in two I knew every word, every lyric by both mike shinoda and chester “chazz” bennigton by heart. I loved it. I lived it. I WAS it. Besides from LP my he had given a whole bunch of other songs by artists I had never heard of (Until then I just listened to what my sister listened to and that was Westlife, Blue, Backstreet Boys e.t.c) but would listen to religiously for the next 10 years almost. Eminem,Disturbed,50-cent,DMX,DR.dre,2pac,fort minor…they became my world.
GIRLS, DRUGS AND BOOZE.
The hell that I thought would never end just up and disappeared. Middle school was over. We were seniors. And we were on top of the food chain. Puberty was finally started working out for me. I was never a remarkably cute kid. I had a baby’s face and had a girly face that my sister made sure i was constantly, painfully, aware of.
But not anymore, I lost the baby fat, my jaw became prominent, I had a fuzzy goatee that made me stand out (in a good way) and I was bigger. Suddenly….I was popular. The one thing I’d hated all my life had suddenly turned into something so awesome that I could never really figure out how the hell it happened.
I started smoking cigarettes, pot, and started drinking in a span of less than 3 months.
It was wrong they had said. It was bad they had said. It was dangerous they had said. And I loved doing them. I lIked pot more then drinking and that hasn’t changed. I smoked every chance i got. Initially me, and a bunch of other guys would go the one pothead we knew (he had studied in the same school we did) and smoke with him on his terrace, constantly checking to see his mom wasn’t coming up. It was pure charity on his part. I think he was a lonely kid. But eventually we started “scoring” ourselves. We could go to a nearby guy, That was 20 minutes on the motorcycle but he sold spiked shit. According to popular rumor he spiked it with Ratkill. If we wanted clean shit we had to go into the city, through the exhaust fumes, and the traffic, and the occasional cop trying to catch you (a hundred bucks and a lot of begging would ensure your freedom, but if you try to go past him and he still catches you, it’s still a hundered bucks and lots of begging but with a dose of ass whopping thrown in) past the Buddha standing tall in the middle of the water, and into the dirtier side of the city. It was worth it.
I experimented with acid, pot edibles, hash and one one occassion the infamous “whitener”. Not gonna do that again for sure. Cocaine and MDMA seem to be on the menu for this summer.
I got caught on multiple occasions making out with multiple girls, In multiple places under multiple circumstances. And the consequences differed depending on the circumstances. The worst was when my mom saw me necking a girl and gave me a whole lot of drama for it. I can’t take drama. I prefer being grounded (i’ll sneak out don’t worry) or an ass whopping, but my parents never hit me or mu sister.I got suspended from school once for a week cause i got caught with a girl behind the abandoned gym next to the mini basketball court. My parents never found out, I got to the letter they sent home before them and i left for school every day only i crashed at a friend’s place. Girls were incredible I thought and I still do. Just incredible. Something about girls that could just turn my day around in a jiffy. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Though I’ve told a lot of girls I loved them. Am not proud of lying to them but you have to know that I lied to myself too every time I said it. Sex was great. And my mind could make up any lie to get it.
I’ve turned 19 recently. I don’t know how that makes me feel. I’ve been obsessed with things all my life, random things, painful things,things that have changed my life. You see, “liking” something is not good enough. “Ok” is not good enough. It has to be absolutely out of this world, something that can make an impact. The more impact the better. “It either has to be real good, or real bad, cause either way you’re making an impact, everything in between is mediocre”. Madonna wayne gacy said that. Of course he was a drug fiend, and completely insane but that thing he said is right on.
So here I am, older,(wiser?) and I still don’t care for things that fail to be potentially obsessive-capable.
The things i obsess over now have changed, drastically some might say.
I still smoke pot but not so religiously, am still going to do every drug that comes my way, but am not rooting for things to happen. They will happen. Am learning new things. In fact am learning so much in a day now then i did in a year a few years ago. I am growing. I don’t date anymore because I don’t think I want to have mindless sex anymore. Or rather heartless sex anymore. I would like to know how it feels to be in love. But for that i have to wait I guess. I am not so reckless anymore, I drive safer, I smile more often.I don’t take things for granted anymore, I am more grateful. I am making changes. Changes that will make An impact. So this year is my year. To grow, to expand. To obsess over things that will change the course of my life.
And I can’t possibly tell my father how grateful I am for not letting me watch T.v. That shit is toxic.