2003.08.22 03.34 (from livejournal) Parents suck. a couple days ago i went to see my friend justin from vendetta red at a bar. his band has been on tour for the last few months, and in that time i only had the chance to see him once, at warp tour. i endured the long sweaty day full of mostly shitty bands, to hang out and see my friends. i missed having him around and it was good to spend a couple days with him. when i saw him recently, he mentioned to me that he and joseph wanted to make an animated video for thier song "suicide party" and he asked me if i would be interested in making up a treatment more it. i've never done animation, but i said why not. we agreed that it should have a "a-ha" feel. the whole thing is gonna be low budget and not planned for mtv, but just something to have, for fun. if it turns out ok, maybe they'll do something with it. i said i'd give it a shot, and began trying to familiarize myself with the song. the past few days, i've been listening to it constantly, memorizing every aspect of it, reading the lyrics over and over, just trying to understand the basic theme. the song is about the mass suicides surrounding the haily-bop comet and the cult leader who manipulated them. as i thought about it more, i wanted to to stay away from a literal translation and focus more on the underlying theme: wanting to believe in something so bad that you'll let youself be manipulted, you'll let yourself believe. after i understood that, i began thinking back through my life, thinking of all the times that's happened to me, especially when i was younger. what's the worst experience i've had with that? the one time in my life i kept coming back to was when i lived in japan with my father and his wife, my suedo-stepmother. my father and i never had a good relationship. my parents divorced when i was three, and my mother and i moved to indiana and he stayed in florida. i'd go stay with him in the summers, but even that wasn't consistant. he was never around, and more often than not, he'd ditch me for a hot date or to smoke weed and hang out with his buddies. i knew all of this, but i never wanted to give up hope that he still loved me or that he wanted to be a part of my life, so much so, that i think i partially blamed my mother for it (which doesn't make any sense, because she's possibly the sweetest woman in the world). so, when the opportunity arose to actually go and live with my father, in japan no less, i jumped at it. this was my chance to be accepted. right from the beginning i should have known it was only going to end in tragedy. michelle (his wife) and i didn't click, and no matter what i did, i couldn't live up to his expectation for a football playing, fag hating, all american son. i had long hair, i was over weight, i liked to draw and play drums, i hung out with the nerds. as time went on, the conflicts in the house grew larger. not just between me and them, but between him and her. everybody was constantly changing sides. michelle and i against him, he and i against her, and especially them against me. as all of this contininued, i began to notice that michelle was the one that always had the upper hand. she was the ultimate manipulater, willing to do anything to make herself look good. she was the domineering force of the house. she seperated all of us. she kept my father and i apart. if i didn't do any of her ridiculous demands, she would lie to my father and make him so angry he'd beat me up. she would even tell me she was going to do it. i ended up running away from home eventually. i was on the lamb for three weeks. i demanded that things change at home or i wouldn't return. i couldn't stand it anymore. they agreed, and things did change...for a while. things eventually gravited back to what they were and worse. i began to lie so i didn't have to come home (i was grounded for 6 months for arriving home three minutes late). one night there was a typhoon and i pulled one of those out. i stayed out all night partying with my japanese friends off base. when i arrived home the next day, i was basically sentenced to exile. the next morning, michelle came in my room making demands. i complied, or tried to. she wanted me to do my chores, then twice, then twice and rip all of my posters off my wall. i ageed. i went about taking the posters down first. she stormed in and demanded to know why i wasn't ripping them down. i was taking them down, but she wanted me to RIP them down. now, i was seventeen, and my posters meant a lot to me, especially since there were handmade flyers on the walls for my first band's shows and photos of friends. i protested. she pushed me. she took the scissors i had in my hand that i was using to take down the posters and tried to stab me with them. after that didn't work (i can run when i need to), she called my father, with the intention of having him come home and beat the shit out of me. i grabbed my backpack, got the fuck out of that house and called the military police on her (did i mention they were both in the navy?). this was runaway 2. i stayed at friends house for a couple weeks, and between the police and my father, we had negotiated a meeting with family councelers. i would only see him through that. we made plans to meet up, and he was going to drive us there. the day came. i met him in a parking lot, i thought we were going to the counceler, instead, he drove me to the airport and put me on a plane back to indiana. I HAD NO IDEA. i never had a chance to say goodbye to any of my friends, they destroyed all of my stuff and when i got home, my mother was afraid of me. unbeknownced to me, michelle had been lieing to her the entire time i was in japan about what a terrible kid i was. it took six months before my mother saw through it and excepted me back again. i fell for it. i wanted it so bad that i let them do those things to me. i kept giving them chance after chance and in the end, they ripped out my heart and stole my life away from me. i'm only saying this, because i think this is what i'm gonna try to make the video about, if it even happens. althogh, i think i'll do it from the point of view of being on the plane. you won't figure out why he's there till it's over. something like that. i'm still figuring out, i just had to say it. hopefullt it'll work. Mood: moody Music: Vendetta Red