Yozo was afraid of his father but there is no doubt that he loved both his parents. His parents didn't think much of him, I believe. Yet he was important to them, by virtue of being their son. I think that is a very common parent-child relation. Yozo knew it deep down as well.

I've never enjoyed the privilege of a trusting parent. My parents didn't believe I was capable of anything. "Blessed" and "perfect" as I was called so commonly, it appears my parents knew the truth. I was handed an ambition that demanded nothing but mindless studying, good grades and being the honor student. I, at one time, had it all. Perhaps I was seeking approval or love, but I know neither was there when I came home. Being in the spotlight eventually became a drag. They no longer came to see me get that award. Annual ceremonies were no more than a futile wait.

That's when I took a crazier road. I was still an honor student, not because I was a genius but because every other person was dumb. I threw away all the trophies, piling dust. I was no longer the teacher's favorite. They were afraid. I wasn't able to respect them perhaps. Though outwardly, I never said anything crude but it was just the way I looked at them. I simply no longer cared. They would constantly try to figure me out.

One time, a teacher admitted it to me, "You scare me...as if you aren't from here...like an alien".

I had to hold back my laughter. Eventually though, they would give up and there I'd be, free and indifferent.

The ambition my parents had given to me became the last thing I could imagine becoming. A professor, this is something I had to become, that was drilled into my mind ever since I was a kid. But I gave up on it entirely. I wanted to be a musician.

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I remember the day I brought a guitar home. All I got was disapproval and unhappy looks.

"It takes years to do this. You can't possibly do this."

"So what? You think you can become cool just because you are holding that thing in your hands. Well, earth to Ms. Brainless. Do you even know how many chords there are?"

"I bet you'd just give up tomorrow."

I know for a fact that if I was standing in the middle of the street, playing that same guitar to earn some money, they would be a friend to me. But I wouldn't do that. I just wouldn't satisfy them like this.

I became a rebel through and through and the kind of crazy that did everything you'd think no one would ever do. I wasn't an entertainer people flocked to anymore. They were scared now. They were only an audience when I wanted them to. I was living selfishly for one.

I don't think I was ever able to feel attached anymore. For a while, when I did become attached, it was short lived. I learned to avoid it. For my little brother, for example, but he was burdened by being a friend to me. He chose to leave home and live with our elder brother. And then for my childhood friend, she chose a man.

Eventually, I could feel the distance growing as her world began to revolve around him. Her parents didn't approve. We were so young after all. She died due to complications at 18. I promised her I'd look after her child. Despite myself, I said it and I did mean it. She thanked me. Even though she had a sister who would have been a much more loving mother, she said that I should do it. I think while I made that promise, I really didn't believe that she'd die. But she did. I was lost in a world with nowhere to belong. In the end, I left there with no knowledge of the child and I didn't look back either.

I knew then that I was not to be salvaged anymore. After all, I gave up on that guitar. To be honest, it sounded so bland now. I could no longer hear music.