This stuff is addictive

When I was a little kid my parents disliked the whole concept of fashion and fad. Basically, I wore pass me downs until I was in high school, never went once to the hair-dresser, didn't have much chance to check out the newest albums, definitely wasn't allowed to watch MTV, and well, didn't know what in the world was going on with the music industry.

I... still don't.

First of all, coming from a strictly traditional musical family (father being an amature Chinese traditional musician, a.k.a. conservative) the musical influences ranged from Bach, Mozart, Mendelssohn, Wagner, Verdi... (yeah, these very common names) to 醉琴，天山之春，我爸自譜曲. It was either strictly violins or strictly urhu. (My only side track might be the very cute 小虎隊, which my parents also happened to adore for no particular reasons). My first comic series was about the biography of great people in the history and the world (Beethoven, Anderson, Napoleon, Nobel, etc.) My first books were the encyclopedia for children (with very very ugly pictures). My stories were concepts of morality and ethics (and people keep wondering how the hell did I turn out the way I did?). Concerning pop music, pop culture, novels, TV series, etc. Well, they weren't yet considered devilish, but I do recall having them named something from "bad influence" to "trash". My mother's opinion "How can you stand this?" My father's opinion... well... he doesn't often project opinions, he simply just attacks the instrument producing the "negative" infuence.

Second of all, coming from a family that hasn't a single clue what "rest" or what in general "good lifestyle" means, anything not work-related, education-related are often thought to be... the work of Satan (only that my family is generally pagan ((mom)) and buddhist ((dad)) so the naturally there's no such thing as Satan here). I was a weird kid as a child. To me, the mall was a place that a child was NOT allowed to go. A child being someone before she turns 18 (or even after, depending on your parents). Shopping was the hobby of the idle (which still might be true). Fashion was for the rich (which we were not). Taking a break was something to be feeling guilty for (a.k.a. watching TV, reading stories... etc. that is until I discovered my parents' tolerance for young adult fiction and science fiction <-- my mom was a Sci-Fi supporter and sorta addict for awhile). Of course, that included contacts with any pop-culture, unless you are studying it (which I ended up doing for a bit in high school... also studied eroticism <-- that was for real). We rarely took family vacations, and when we did, I walked with my father listening to his lectures on life, education, plants and so on, or else I spent the rest of the time reading (the only way to get everyone off my back is with a book opened in my lap). As for music, never got what I wanted, never a genre that just moved me enough for me to want to... basically... DIG IN!

Third of all, anything louder than my mother's speech (quite loud, actually), weren't allowed in the family until eventually my brother grew up. Why does his growing up matter? Cuz he never cared <-- none of the ethics education... enough to shut the music down and now my mother is rather trained to be tolerant to it (so this is how you deal with parents, make them tolerant). I arrived in university totally unprepared for the youth culture I was to face (was definitely expecting a world of nerds like me who'd carry books around with them everywhere). I found myself in a world of fad and fashion, a world of pop music and pop art, a world where you're not kool if you're not that! Of course, this didn't help, because I just didn't feel comfortable being all "that"! The pop music I still didn't find appealing, though at least now I feel more apart of everyone. Everything was too soft for me... until

In order to get "out" of here, I arranged for exchange student to Finland. I needed a big break, a major one, one that will allow me from going crazy and nuts. For the first 6 months in Finland I did nothing, and I really mean nothing, except date guys and sleep and smoke and get sick a lot. At the beginning of the second semester, I did relatively better, but still horribly. I was still sick and still trying to figure things out, figure the world out, figure myself out. Having been not apart of the world for so long, it wasn't easy for me to melt in with people, to understand people, to understand the culture around me. But surprisingly, I did manage to fit in, and better than I expected. I fitted into the group that I used to laugh at when I was a kid finding that the groups with the same status at the present isn't the same as those in childhood. All this is great and good, all this helped me take on a more positive look on life, but there was still something missing in my life. I listened to hip-hop (got criticized several time for saying that I like it... and I agree with the criticism now... because I was never enthusiastic about it!), rap (not enthusiastic either) which I came to like because they were popular culture, came to like reggaeton because it is easy to dance to (very dirty), Chinese music because I've always listened to those (Still adore them)... But missing one major genre... until this weird French guy Quintin basically just smashed this music in my face on my visit to his home.

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Characteristics of a metal head: long hair, black wardrobe, leather bands... etc. Extreme --> Goth... Less extreme --> Punk... my original fav of style: long hair, black wardrobe, leather bands, silverware w/ skulls, scorpions... etc. In other words, I wasn't far from the style already. My fav things in life: anything hardcore. My childhood: filled with hatred for the inhumanity of humans and had the concept that the cruelist creatures in the world are humans (hence the fantasy that the world is either controlled by trees or little aliens from other space... or the fantasy that I am a martian, which might still be true). Loved: vampires, blood, smashing things <-- anger management? My first boyfriend (okay, if you can call that a boyfriend... when I was 12, and we never did anything but talk) was actually in a band... who actually was into punk music... which... surprisingly, I never got influenced with... or maybe I did, but I just never noticed. I just loved the black leather jacket and boots he always wore, and the paleness of his skin. Maybe also a little bit of the sentimental violence he had (a bit self-destructive).

Metal heads also "mush", which... I never did "mush" much with... Will I ever want to go "mushing"? Actually, not really, maybe in private, but definitely no interest in public mushing... too much physical contact, and definitely a very painful sounding process. Yet, from my past expriences with chucking people on ice, I do have reasons to believe that I probably won't be such a bad musher, maybe I'll try it one of these days (I've chucked hockey players, football players... during my childish years) after I've learned some self-protection arts!

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Anyways, Quintin (side-track is the reason of my long writings) introduced me to metal music (was introduced to rock by Johanna). Now, just maybe, I've found exactly the thing I had been looking for in my life. That sounds which fills up the emptiness inside. The music isn't just thrilling, it was life-giving! (The only problem is it is also either very tiring or very energetic to listen to it) It fitted with every fiber of my understanding of what good music should feel like (Prefer the newer ones to the older ones). There was Rage Against the Machine, Rammstein, the Rasmus, Apocalyptic, Pantera, Metallica, Marilyn Manson, Drowning Pool, Disturbed, etc. Now I feel like I need to know more and more and more and more of this stuff. I can spend just days after days and after more days just listening to the different tones, keys, styles of these music (and trying to figure out how I can fit the instrument I play into this... which would be weird... because I play 琵琶).

This stuff is addictive! Now I know what it means to be addicted to music. All hail the metal heads! And me out of my crack-pot butterfly cocoon~