Cazumbi - Volume 1
1960s; African; Garage rock; Compilation of amazing and sadly obscure African bands
http://www.mediafire.com/?xniij2zjmwz
First love. The events around mine were influenced by both who she was, and my first reactions to romance. I was at that stage where, like a kid, my senses were overloaded with a cyclic fascination. A voice and scent came to pacify my unfolding realization that I was someone else before we met. This girl freed me of the kid I grew up being, and I did my best to never let that personality see the light of day. Forgetting who I was also defined who I would be, because, in a sense, I had given up free will for passion. She was as immature and uncertain a human being as I was, and that's why I think we bonded so quickly despite having nothing in common. She was gorgeous and I was inadequate to her smile. Yet she loved me as intensely.
Her parents were an oppressive force to be reckoned with, capable of DEFCON 1's from left field and nuclear meltdowns on her part. We didn't have a doubt in the world until they found out about us. Which was a damn shame, because our relationship was the stability I needed to maintain attendance and good grades. They let hell loose on the poor Catholic schoolgirl, and I received an S.O.S. the day before Christmas. She didn't have much to say, but her words were a barrage of mixed messages. "I can't see you. I won't see you. But I will." A few days later things cooled down and she started calling again. When we were done apologizing to each-other and reassuring our love, I felt extra sentimental and sent her a voicemail after she went to sleep. A harmless gesture of affection. That night her parents confiscated her phone, planning on getting her a new one for her birthday. Of course, for some reason, they decided to check her messages. And wake her up with shouts and threats... The day before her birthday. It was brutal, and her mom hand-cranked the girl's mind to think I was Satan. She sends me a long and elaborate message detailing how I've only been using her and how I'm the lowest thing on her priorities. Ouch... I felt completely responsible and at fault. Looking back, though, none of that makes sense because we were virgins and I basically treated her like a princess. Not that I'm bitching, heh. It's just another experience that tells me how warped and delusional I was as a person. The conflicts around this relationship stemmed a knot in my stomach that caused me physical pain everyday for the second quarter of my sophomore year. We were on and off and on and off but vaguely and emotionally exclusive. We had both gone off the deep-end from stress, and couldn't stop getting back together despite an immense toxicity in both of our lives. She spent the better half of that year destroying me. By the next year things had settled down. She was ready to give me everything again, and I ended up meeting her parents on better terms. Pops still didn't like me, but her mom more or less warmed up. And I did too! I was ready to spend the rest of my life in this environment. It was all I knew after four years of adolescence.
But something was off. I voluntarily stopped visiting her for weeks at a time. I'd dodge phonecalls, and I wasn't fuzzy or affectionate anymore. She was making the effort for past mistakes, but at the time I couldn't find the source of my resentment. It turns out, long ago, when things were really heating up and I was at the peak of anxiety, I told myself to feel hatred. To let go and feel the slightest bit of anger toward her. Which, at the time, eased the physical pain. But everyday I had to further reduce her as a person in my mind to cope. She caught me in the middle of this healthy break-up healing and reopened the floodgates of attention and love. I was hollow and none of it could reach me. Attempting to love her again melted away the hate but brought back the pain. It was suffocation, and by the end, she drowned me. One day she ended things. For two months we played our game of on-and-off, and I appealed to her with every shred of who I was when she fell in love. But it was fruitless. I couldn't make up for the time spent ignoring her. In the end, we were two completely different people who lost the innocent qualities that captivated the other so early on.
A year ago, I spiraled into a coma of misery. On days like these I look back and can't even remember when exactly I woke up from it. But, anywho, this is the lightweight version of my story. Weird kid tries to be normal but that makes him weirder. Thanks for reading, humility reduces my stress. ^^;
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