Growing up there are people you meet that change your life. Some people make
acquaintances with work-mates; and others make acquaintances with cellmates. Depending on the disposition that you, in the steady clamor of growing up, have made for yourself; there are many different circumstances under which you will interface with others and possibly make friends. If you, hypothetically, asked someone to describe any person who had changed their life the first
thing that they would, most likely, think of would be someone who couldn't be forgotten. When I think of someone who couldn't be forgotten there would have to be something a little more unsettling about it.
Say I knew somebody when I was young and we were good buddies. We made fun of the same people, we laughed about the same weird ramble, we took turns passing each other out when we got bored. We began to grow up and started playing a little music together and it turned out that we could be really loud and make it whatever we wanted to. We knew a whole bunch of people in middle school because the town we grew up in was so small. The little gangs of people had their cliques and their groupie friends and the social sectarians played their homecoming games and bought mums for their little girlfriends. We liked punk, we couldn't help it; it started out so harmless, so mainstream. It was loud, blasphemous and abhorrent rock and roll and the further back you got, the better the sound would get.
The battle lines were drawn and everybody knew where they stood in the social scene and everyone was happy that way. High school rolled around and partying was a blur of "let's try this" and "I wonder what this does". Despite the personal moral degradation I experienced due to the support of the local DARE institution, I pressed on knowing that what they taught us was not the whole story.
Things were looking up and I was learning all about...