This is not me. Nope. This is anti-me. Actually not really anti-me but the man I wish I was. There's not much to change that now, but who says that you can't make a life of your own. Right now, I'm in this place where I can start at a clean slate. So let's fucking do it. I'm not the man I was, I am the man I am now. This is how I got there. It's not how the real me got there, but it's how I wish I got there. If fucking Machiavelli can kill himself but not really, why can't I? What does he have that I don't have? Well fine then, lets start from the beginning. By the way, when you read this, I suggest you listen to Blur's Swamp Song, cause it kinda goes along with the whole thing. Or not, whatever.
Ok, I liked the way I started out. There is parts of it that's switch around, and there's parts that are not true at all, but only a certain amount of people know that. You, loyal reader, will not. That is the beauty of this.Santiago...Chile....1980
--- My parents were both a bunch of hippies. Radical, left wing bunch of hippies. Not the tree hugging type mind you, but the ones who would like throw stones at police trucks and shit like that. They were part of the whole movement to get Allende out, then when they realized how wrong they were, they were in the movement to get Pinochet out. They were just rebels to the system. Not really of any cause mind you, but just rebels. Maybe they liked to throw stones, I don't know. But this is stories I would get to hear when I was a kid.
"...so alright, we were out of the University one day and we were going to go to one of these demonstrations for the right of the mothers in right wing, blah blah blah...and I had to bring you along (me the baby by the way) and I had no one to give you to. Your father was in school studying and shit and I couldn't tell him to take you because I wanted him to get good grades and stuff. So me and you screaming and shouting and waving flags and stuff and then the cops come"
"You ran didn't you"
"Let me finish! So we saw them and started screaming 'Get the fuck out of here, this is a peaceful demonstration' you know the general stuff you yell when cops come. So I put some lemon on a cloth and shoved it in your mouth because that helps with the tear gas, and started throwing stones..."
"Not the fucking stones AGAIN!"
"Shut up and let me finish!"
"Couldn't you throw anything else? Or maybe not throw anything at all, maybe that wouldn't have gotten you in so much trouble. And what the fuck are you doing in some demonstration with me? I was a baby! I could have tear gas poisoning for all I know"
"You're fine. Anyways, the cops came with the billy clubs and shit (by the way, do you know now why i talk like this?) and I started running with you. I ran halfway to Cerro Santa Lucia when a cop stopped me and I'm like 'I have to protect my baby from the rioters' HAHAHAHA...and he fucking BOUGHT IT!"
"You know I wouldn't put you in direct danger"
"But you DID!"
That's my mom by the way. And yeah I am fine. She's one of the reasons I am fine. My dad too. They're all fine, they all have a great life. They love each other, they love us (me, my sister, and my brother). She seems like a person who doesn't respect me, but that's South American mothers for you. Show thier love with food, and smothering. My dad was different but the same of my mom, came up with the same kind of lower class background, but strived to get a good education for me and my family. My dad represented art class (you know I got my music from him, and my style, and my taste), my mom was social studies (what to do when cops are throwing rocks at you).
And I know what you're thinking, what part is true what part is not. STOP DOING THAT! Like I said, there's only a handful of people who know what's true and what's not. Robert Evans in his book said and I quote "There's three sides to every story: yours, mine, and the truth". That will be the motto of this. Whatever THIS is.