The Figure in the Frame: ch. 6 cleveland
6. cleveland He dreamed of being a rockstar. Ever since his parents put a guitar in his hands on his seventh birthday, he wanted to know all there was to know about how to compose music. In middle school he was shunned by his teachers for being too "out there," too focused on his passions. Later, he would hate himself for more complex reasons that still stemmed from that flaw embedded in him. He studied, only because he was told he had to. High school came around and he kept playing, except now, he was stupid enough to write his own lyrics. They were middling anthems about sex (he wasn't get any), drugs (a toke on a joint at a party once gave him the authority to write about high times), and rock 'n roll (he preferred alternative, technically). He kept these in a journal his father bought him when his mother ran away with a younger man named Tim. This was grade nine. His father told him she was dead. When he found out the truth years later as an adult he decided he ...