11 years old, in 7th grade.

When was it exactly that I begged my mom in tears to “save me” from my own father?

I slept on the top bunk while my mom slept on the bottom, my dad used to barge in at night to yell at my mom - his speech repeating all the things she did wrong that day. When he left, it wasn’t for long - he would soon remember another one of her accosts to all things intelligent and come barging back in.

He slept in the master bedroom, on a California King mattress. I really didn’t mind sleeping in the same room as my mom.

I’ve had many sleeping arrangements throughout my life. A storage closet in a factory. Motor home. I have fond memories of staying in a house with a big backyard in Chatsworth (mountains near Los Angeles). There were moments we were well off monetarily & moments where we weren’t. Thanks to one of the periods where my dad had some extra spending money, he bought me a Mac laptop around 2008 (which is what I recorded this video on). It’s important for me to note that both my parents always made sure that were was food on the table for me.

My mom ended up saving both of us from my dad with the help of a restraining order. Sounds harsh and a weird way to handle things, but if it works, it works. I really was not a properly functioning child/teen for a while there. There was just something really clearly wrong with me & it was 100% due to the mental torment and anguish.

Throughout the experience of growing up, I felt disillusioned. Isn’t this supposed to be the time I feel happiest? Isn’t this the time I should feel the most free? Why is it so hard for me to make friends? Why don’t I fit in?

Sometimes I was so wrapped up in my own suffering, so busy victimizing myself, that I wasn’t able to see that so many kids around me also had troubled minds. I just had issues with connecting to other people. It also felt nice to feel so out of place. Like I had an excuse to feel the way that I did. The more I distanced myself from people in my own mind, the more comforted I felt. It didn’t help that I had skipped a grade when I was in 2nd grade, meaning that I was perpetually 1-2 years younger than the people in my classes.

I always thought that I might have some sort of found-family teacher mentor moment where some adult would see how troubled I am and would give me some kind of life-changing advice that would help me find myself. Or even just be there for me. Never happened! So that whole look right through me line always reminds me of that feeling.

Anyways I know for a FACT I recorded this cover thinking I might post it on youtube. I watched a lot of cover videos on youtube. But I sucked. Off-key, sometimes fully missing notes, it’s almost a masterclass in how not to sing. Still, ever since I found out about what singing was and what music was, it became my ultimate dream.

Adam Lambert’s cover of Mad World (which is what I’m singing over) (this exact video) really spoke to me as a kid. You can just feel the emotions in the way he sings the words. I wanted to emulate that feeling. I wanted to share my emotions through song.

Side note: Adam Lambert's debut album "For Your Entertainment" was one of my childhood favorites. Sleepwalker and Fever anre my favorites. I used to think that if you sang a song, you wrote it. Turns out all my favorites by him were written by other people. Also just looked into it and Ryan Tedder from One Republic fucking fame wrote Sleepwalker. HUH? This guy is everywhere. He writes for Tate McRae. (Kelly Clarkson, Beyoncé, Adele, the list goes on) "Apologize".... "Everybody Loves Me".... This guy knows what he's doing.

Back to brooding:
I wanted people to see the broken and hurt version of me. Why the fuck is it so hard to be seen??? I wanted to release this feeling. I wanted people to hear the words that were being sung and understand my feelings through them. But I never uploaded this video anywhere. I didn’t show anyone. I kept it hidden, not thinking it was something that should be shown. Well I’m showing it now!!!!!!!!

The older I get the more apparent it is to me that it’s a mad fucking world. Absolutely top to bottom mad.

And it is kind of funny and it is kind of sad!!!!!!!!!!

I’m an adult now. I have all these memories of being a broken childhood with no sense of what “family” means. I get it more now, though. In part, family is just genes. And then in terms of whoever raised you and kept you fed, it can get a bit more complicated, but really it just boils down to creating where you come from. Our experiences shape us, for better or for worse.

While I was a hurt kid, I did find solace in humor and in music (and in fictional romance. and MMOs where you could dress up.) In 7th or 8th grade I printed out the lyrics to “Bad Touch” by The Bloodhound Gang to sing with my friends at recess. So I wasn’t just brooding 24/7.

I wonder what I’m trying to say with all of this. I want more people to know this younger version of me. I want people to know where I come from. But also: who I am now can speak for itself.

If you get anything from all of this, just hear how desperate I am to share this song in my own voice. Every time I sing, I channel the part of myself that made this cover. Somewhere along the line I was able to sing with more conviction and technical knowledge. I was also able to write the words I needed to hear. (I don’t really like singing covers - I never do it better than the original).

In a week or 2, I am going to post my first ever in-person concert that I produced, with some help from my friends and a local venue :) I don’t mind showing the world me stumbling my way to an inevitable victory over the music industry. I am coming for its jugular. I’m looking forward to sharing my progression as a musician with the world, along with continuing to help teach people how to connect more with music/technology/files/the internet/whatever whatever whateverrrrr.

And although I didn’t talk to my dad again until I was 17/18, I was able to start up a relationship with him more on my terms. My mom was never opposed to us talking, in case you were wondering. But he was straight-up abusing her and I don’t even know what to call the mental torment he was putting me under, so I wasn’t able to face him without having a full mental break for a VERY long time. I stay in regular contact with him now. He is the only living relative on his side of the family. He was born in 1945 in Hungary & lived a very troubled and unique life. I want to know where I come from, even if it means facing some amount of pain.

And when it comes to “fitting in”, I still don’t. But now that feeling has evolved to seeing that I don’t think anyone really “fits in”. Some people have an easier time making friends, but that also doesn’t mean much when those same people might not have anyone that will drive them to the airport, no strings attached. I’ve changed the way I approach people as an adult - I’d just like it if we could have a pleasant interaction and bond over the insanity of what it mean to be a human being.

What I’ve learned from my childhood is that nothing is as sweet as free will. (side note: this song was my anthem after we got the restraining order.)

Sometimes I feel thankful for the childhood that I had, ‘cause I really don’t miss being a kid. I miss the way certain things felt (watching Charlie the Unicorn for the first time was transcendent LOL), but there’s always new things to experience.

Big thanks to the passage of time <3