Chapter 4: Crisis? What Crisis?

During that period of time I had some whims that were quite absurd and childish.  My room was  like a progressive rock museum with all my vinyl records, music books, silent drums (which were anything but silent) and all the walls wrapped with posters of groups like Marillion, Pedragon, IQ, VDGG and so on.  I even had a life-size Fish poster on the ceiling.  I hated all the spotless and laminated record covers, they always looked new.  They were horrible!  I would slam them with a tennis racket to make them look more authentic.

My parents were desperate.

            –Parents: Mikli, why do you make so much noise in your room?  If it’s not the music, it’s    other strange noises or those silent drums that make so much noise.  Besides, there is     always a lot of smoke in your room.  Please son, you have to stop this.  It is a torture for us         and you’re not a kid anymore.

 When I turned 30, my parents invited me very politely to leave home.  I’m the oldest of my brothers and the last one to leave home.  It was time to be independent and turn into a real man (or at least to try).  But to be honest, leaving home didn’t change things much.