Most boys, at one point or another, go through a phase where Rock is their favorite (and at times the only) type of music to listen to. Most of them outgrow it after a certain period, when they learn to live with themselves, to love themselves as well as others a little more, to accept society's rules as necessary for his peaceful and meaningful existence. Unfortunately, I am one of those who have NOT fully outgrown this phase. I do not know if it is immaturity on my part, but Rock music provides me with an outlet to vent my frustrations, among others. A suitable medium through which I can bring the darkness within me to the surface - if only for a moment. For you see, behind this facade of kindness, of generosity, of complacency that I have continually reinforced; behind my wall of self control, is a great darkness - or at least a hunger for it. A wish, a thought, an urge to free myself from the bounds of morality - to act on my most basic and at times intimate desires. Of course, in real life, this will never do, as society puts strict rules regarding the do's and don'ts of each individual. This is the id in me, the darkness that threatens to breach and bring down the wall of my ego. Through Rock music, I can address these feelings, a respite from the often taxing control I must exercise to conform with society's demands. I usually listen to Rock when I am driving alone in my car, my radio set to a deafening level of loudness, my choice of songs mostly limited to those about betrayal, or solitude, or hate. This is a medication as much as it is a poison to my soul. I need not be in any particular state of distress to have access to this darkness. There are times when I end an otherwise great day with this sick "therapy" of mine. My ears have grown numb to the so-called noise of rock, and instead it stirs in me a unique peace - one that can only be achieved through letting out and letting go. Internalizing the darkness before expelling it helps me keep sane. Granted, I only do this rarely, when my mind is in a state where it is ready and willing to drink of this dark wine. It is, in fact, as good a replacement for physical intoxication as any. In fact, to get in the mood to write this very entry, I am currently listening to a selection of my loudest and destructive/tragic songs. It is the only way to condition my mind to write about this in such detail. Yet, it also saps me of my strength and distracts me from the task I am currently undertaking. I feel that in expressing this darkness, that even with all these words I have written, that I have only scratched the surface - the proverbial tip-of-the-iceberg. Ah, well, there is nothing that can be done about it. Perhaps some day this darkness will no longer grow and be nurtured by haunting memories and new experiences. When that happens, I will gladly join the scores of those who finally find Rock as a pollutant to their sacred silence.