Before, my music drowned their words, keeping me in my safe haven of tranquility, but now their words are quieting my music. They make the singer whisper away from the microphone, they muffle the drums, they turn all the amps volume down, and to make sure I couldn't hear it, they put my music in a sound proof box. I can only hear a little quieted sound of what they are playing, so I am not able to recognize what they are playing. My dad's voice becomes louder than an erupting volcano now, being heard and not forgotten and the words are as dangerous as the lava. He warns of how my life will be horrible if I don't clean up my act. I always thought my dad was the cool one that didn't care about me, but I guess I was wrong. Was my mom only acting as the law enforcer and my dad being congress and making the laws? or was both of them the enforcers and law makers? I don't really care anymore, they always bug me about this now. You think my dad would be happy and talk about something we both enjoy just after we bought him a 12 string guitar, but it was only a trick to get him to talk to me. I just agree with what ever my dad says to me so then the conversation seems like he won and there is nothing else to say. Finally, when it is quiet, the volcano calms down back to its original state.I don't want to look at my father, I don't want him in my view anymore so I look outside the window at the scenery of the grassy hills, the sandy beaches of California, and the wondrous ocean. Before, I cherished my dad because he was so laid back with what I did, but now I see the true side of him. Before, I would always be at ease and sleep the first minute i was in my dad's car, but with the disappointment of seeing who dad really is kept me up through the whole ride. I pass a forest by the highway and I think of running away. The thought of leaving behind and surviving with what you can catch with just your bare hands; a man's dream at best but I know it's a foolish thing to ruin the good life I have and lose all the good friends and loved ones in my life. "I'm just going to have to put up with my family," I thought. I jump from the surprising interruption of my phone vibrating. I'll read the text message later, I don't feel like talking to anyone, not now. I sit there trying to listen to my muffled music as i watch the scenery pass by for 20 minutes. I didn't do anything on the way home, I was like in a meditating state that I wouldn't even realize if me and my dad got in a car accident. Finally, I awake from my state of being and realize that were in my driveway.
"Do you know how to put on a snare head?" my dad asked me.
"Ya, give it here and I'll do it when i get inside." I replied. All I got was a new snare head to replace my old dented one from this trip of disappointment, what a rip off. I place the new snare head on and play drums for awhile to shake my mind off what had happened in the car. I did not want to talk to my dad anymore. Before, I used to worship him, doing what I always wanted to do. He was a doctor but I just want to save people, i don't care what I have to do to save people, I just want to save them. My dad gave a man another 30 minutes to live, so then he could say good bye to his family. My dad saved a man another 10 years or more plus a chance to live with his old high school love once again. Of all of the people I know, my favorite is the mental drug user being saved by my dad while his good friend takes care of him. When I was told these stories, I wanted to cry. I want to cry again that I dislike such a great man who I once worshiped. Disappointment, it's a big factor of my life and what it turned me into.
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