BILLYCORGAN.COMの「the Confessions of Billy Corgan（ビリー・コーガンの告白）」が更新されています。MySpaceにアップされているものと同じです。
Two doors down from our duplex lives a family with 2 kids roughly the same age as my brother and I…they are very nice people, so we spend a lot of time hanging out at their place, eating their food, with the mom serving as our occasional babysitter…the older child, the one my age, is a cute tomboy who is rambunctious and outgoing, playing football and baseball with us boys…my brother is not competitive like I am and doesn’t like sports, so it is good to have a close friend who likes to play games even if she is a girl…it is not unusual that her and I are left alone in their house or our house to play, as we are fairly mature kids by most standards…one night, left alone to our own devices, she asks me if I want to play a game…always up for a competition, I ask her what game she would like to play…she tells me she wants to play doctor, and when I ask her what the rules are, she explains in a vague way that I am the doctor and she will be the patient…not fully understanding her point, I agree anyway…she takes me behind the bar in the basement where it is very dark, and lays down on the cold floor…she tells me that she is ready now to be examined, so I innocently pretend to check her heart with an imaginary stethoscope, and take the pulse from her wrist…she seems fairly restless, so I ask her what is wrong…she doesn’t say anything in return, so I just continue to play along, asking her the kinds of questions doctors ask me; “does your stomach hurt? are you sleeping ok?”…I find this game kind of stupid, but I am intrigued by why we are playing this game in the near dark…she asks me if I want to check her some more, and I say ok…still laying on the floor, she pulls down her pants to her knees, exposing her hairless vagina…I have never seen a vagina before, and I just stare at it, shocked at the difference between her and I in this particular area…my head starts to buzz, as I am overwhelmed by the strange sensation of arousal…she just lays there, not moving, and I am not sure what I am supposed to do, or what she wants me to do…I feel ashamed with the overwhelming feeling that I am doing something wrong, even though no one has ever explained anything to me that would remotely indicate this as wrong…she wants me to touch her, and when I don’t, she suddenly pulls her pants back up and says “ok, now it’s your turn”…I am so freaked out by all of this that I tell her I am bored now and that I don’t want to play anymore…it is also on this same night that she explains to me very carefully, and in great detail, that there isn’t such a thing as Santa Claus…
Back at school for second grade, I am excelling in my studies, and am told routinely that I am at the top of my class in reading, science, and math…teachers point to me as an example to my other classmates that I am what they are looking for in a student, particularly in leading class discussions and encouraging smart questioning of what is being taught…as a reward for my good scholastic efforts and my poise in public speaking, I am asked to read a portion of the Declaration of Independence in front of the whole student body and their parents as part of a nighttime school function, which appears by all indications to be a really big deal…since the demonstration is still a few weeks off, I am given extra time by my teachers away from my normal studies to prepare…
Each day after lunch, all the kids from grades 1-6 are let out in the schoolyard to play for a half hour…since baseball is my favourite game, this is normally how I spend my time outside…one afternoon while we are playing, I hit my ball over to an area of older kids whom I do not know…when I approach this group of kids to get the ball back, one boy about 3 years older than me refuses to give it back, laughing at me in front of his friends…this starts a dumb game of me reaching, and him snatching it away each time…I start to get more and more angry, and as I approach him he starts to back away slowly, then breaking into a dead run…now I am chasing him, incensed that he will not give me my ball back and smarting from him mocking me in front of his friends…as I chase him, I am still carrying the small baseball bat that I hit the ball with, and I warn him that if he does not give me the ball back I am going to hit him with it…finally he grows tired of being chased and stops, standing close to the brick wall of the school…I make one last effort to get the ball from his outstretched hand, and when he snatches it away from me one time too many, I whack him in the head with the bat…it seems like I do not even hit him all that hard, for I am just trying to scare him more that I am trying to hurt him, but down he goes like a sack of potatoes…
My step-mother is called to the school, and I am asked to explain myself in front of her and the school principal…I am frustrated by the fact that neither one of them seems to sympathize with my side of the story, that I was the aggrieved party in the matter…after being sent to sit in the hallway for awhile, my step-mother finally emerges to take me home…they have not decided on my punishment as of yet, but they are going to let me know the next day after school…the following day at school I find it really hard to concentrate, because I feel so humiliated by what has happened…many of my classmates are impressed at my violence, but I am horrified by all the negative attention, because I have never been in trouble at school before…I take great solace in being a model student, as it is the one controllable aspect of my life, and something I can excel at without limitation, unlike my daily home life…after the school day is done, I am taken into a room by my teacher and the principal…they inform me that my punishment will be to stay after school each day until I have written 1,500 times “I will not hit anyone in the head with a baseball bat”…the other part of my punishment is that they are taking away from me the honor of speaking in front of the school, effectively demoting me from my position as the head of my class…I ask if there is anyway that this can be changed, for I am very regretful for my actions and was very much looking forward to speaking at the school function…I am told firmly that their decision stands as is, and there is nothing I can do but to serve out my punishment…no one ever asks if there is a similar violence in my home…
When you consider that your standard piece of white school-paper has around 26 lines on it, you can see that writing anything 1,500 times is quite the chore (around 60 pages)…after the first day of staying an hour or so after school, I have only finished about 4 pages worth, or around 200 lines…for me, this is going to go way too slow…since each word is “I” in the sentence I must write, I devise a system by which to speed up the process…I just draw a straight line down the page, quickly making the dashes, using the bottom dash for the top of the next “I” as well…this speeds me up considerably, as I find other ways to mass produce subsequent words (the “N” in “not”, the “H” in “hit”, etc)…this is fine and good until my teacher discovers what I am doing, and makes me start all over again at the beginning, tearing up the 15 or so pages I have already completed…
My first encounter of being chased after by a girl also happens in this same year, in this same schoolyard…one of my classmates, a pretty girl with long blonde hair, keeps following me around wherever I go…I can’t for the life of me understand what she wants, because when I ask her if she wants to join in whatever game we are playing, she always says “no thanks”, but instead just sits and stares at me…she is always doing stupid stuff to get my attention, but I just keep ignoring her because in my eyes she is acting dumb…her frustration with my ignoring her finally boils over on during one recess, and she starts chasing me around, grabbing at me…when she can’t catch me, she strips off her leather belt, and starts trying to hit me with it…when she does hit me, it doesn’t hurt that much, so I just laugh out loud…this frustrates her more, so she hits me even harder, and I laugh harder…each time I laugh, she hits me, again and again and again in a total frenzy Iuntil a teacher finally comes over and breaks the whole thing up…
Copyright 2005 Billy Corgan. All Rights Reserved. Do not do reproduce or publish in hard or electronic form without written authorization.
