I read an article the other day, about a violent, black metal satan-worshipping crackhead double murderer out of North Carolina named Pazuzu Algorad. Well, he originally had a normal, Christian name. But after being neglected, alienated, abused, and cast out, he grew his hair out, then shaved his head, then grew it out again, tattooed his face, filed his teeth into points, and got heavily into the occult. And changed his name. Before the authorities finally caught up to him on the murder charges, he had grown a following of similar disaffected, alienated young people who lived, hung out and partied at his squalid, filth and graffiti ridden cesspool of a house which he lived in (rent free of course) with his ailing reclusive mother, who lived in a separate back apartment.
As a kid, I actually knew someone who was a lot like this Pazuzu guy. This dude came from a dysfunctional family, dropped out of school at 15, became alienated and anti-social, was drawn to the dark side both in music and the occult, and tried to be the most militantly extreme person around. Lots of other people were drawn to this friend of mine, as well. And, back when I was a teen, I am ashamed to admit there may have been a little of that darkness in me as well. I, too, was alienated and anti-social but for different reasons: I had a good family and good education but felt alienated and isolated, largely from a few experiences I had in high school. I felt rejected by the preppy, rich kid, superficial pastel-shaded pop culture that seemed to run things in my home town, and instead embraced violent anti-social music, dress, and nihilistic attitudes.
So I bonded with this buddy of mine, much like those fucked up and dysfunctional kids bonded with Pazuzu Algorad, and probably not unlike a different group of misfits became drawn to a certain murderous cult Family figure in southern California in the late 1960s.
But I am not that guy anymore. Happy to say. And I don't WANT to be that guy anymore. I want to choose life, to embrace the light side, embrace love and goodness, and leave those feelings of abandonment and rejection behind. And I don't want to follow anyone else down the same path of nihilism, darkness, and despair that others might lead me. I luckily never got into hard drugs back then; though I was tempted. Had I done so, I might never have been able to crawl out of it. And I thankfully no longer feel like an alienated outcast. In short, I am grateful for every day and for the chance to grow up and grow out of the darkness. Not saying my life is always happy and perfect but, you know.
As for my friend, I have no idea what happened to him. I moved a couple states away, and he moved to a separate city with his family, since he had no real job prospects I'm assuming he ended up working for his dad as a carpenter, but who knows. We went our separate ways and that's that. Maybe he, too, is doing fine, as a thriving and well-adjusted adult, but who knows.
