Green Days: American Idiot, the Full Story
Jesus Of Suburbia
PART 2: JESUS OF SUBURBIA
A moth had passed since that night underneath the bridge, the night Jesus and Maria revealed their true feelings for each other. Everyone thought they made a great couple. Jesus was happy that a girl like Maria would even take a second look at him.
Jesus was on his way to the 7-11 to meet Maria. These days they were inseparable. He never wanted to be anywhere without her. He saw her down one of the aisles and he snuck around her and gave her a big hug.
"Hey, Jimmy. You know that we've been going out for a month and you've met my parents but I've ever met yours. I wanna see what kind of son you are," said Maria. Jimmy's entire demeanour changed and his eyes got dark.
"You don't have to. I'm the son of rage and love. That's all you need to know."
After that, Maria stopped asking about it. Jesus was doing well, in the beginning of their relationship, but he started getting into drugs. He survived off of a steady diet of soda pop and his mother's Ritalin. He started not just to doubt himself, but everyone around him. He questioned God saying that 'no one died for his sins'. His mind started to slip. He started to dream up this fictitious land of make believe because he did not believe in himself. Why should he? No one else did.
It started storming down raining so Jesus decided to go home. He walked in and sprawled himself out on top of the soft cushion of his mattress. He laid on his stomach and turned on the television. Shit, it's all shit. He looked around the house and noticed that his mother and Brad were away. Good, he hated the prick. He dug in his pocket for some change. Nothing. Ever since he fell for Maria he had subsequently fallen in debt. He looked underneath his bed and tore up his room more than it already was. He found what he was looking for. He had his own secret stash of alcohol, cigarettes, Mary Jane, even Jason's cocaine. Who cares if it is bad for his body? It is good for his soul. He waited out the rain and when it finally stopped, he threw on a black hoodie and walked back to the centre of his little world, the parking lot of the 7-11.
For the average Rodeo local, they know the town motto, 'Home is where your heart is'. It is a nice idea but the punks know better. Everyone's heart beats differently, out of time. Jesus looked around and noticed how quiet it was. Like a ghost town, a city of the dead. Rodeo is more like a city of the damned. Most people who end up here never leave, never have a good life. It is their black hole of deception. Rodeo also has an abundance of homeless. You walk down the street and you are bound to see some little kid asking for change. Too bad for him, no one cares.
Jesus walked into the 7-11, to his sanctuary. If Jesus could hide anywhere it would be in that bathroom. It is more like a home to him than his own. There was graffiti all over the walls, like a suburban proverb. Most of it was meaningless, but they all cofirmed what was true. Rodeo was the end of the world. The truth is that Jesus could not care less. He does not care about anything. He knows the truth, that everything is shit. The whole world is and everyone in it. It is not that we want or choose to be, it is the way that we were raised. This generation that we are living in cannot be good. There is peace and then war and then more temporary, plastic peace. Plastic peace, imaginary, false, easily broken. And not just those from Rodeo, but from Los Angeles to Houston to London to the Middle East. All war torn, full of false hopes and dreams. It is a scary time to be alive. Jesus understands this fact. That is why he created his escape. His so-called land of make believe that started out in a bathroom stall. Now Jesus has known this all along, but has never fully accepted it. Exception means it exists. Who really wants this to be the world they live in?
After a few hours in deep thought, Jesus had an epiphany. The world is full of shit. The lies, destruction, deception, false hope. He stood there in that bathroom stall and let it all soak in. The graffitied , suburban proverbs on a bathroom stall. He needed release. Even his land of make believe could not shelter him now. He grabbed a razor from the sink and let the truth run. He let the red run down the drain and put a tourniquet on his arm.
"Maybe no one will notice. No one listens. Is anyone here? Is this proof that we're all demented? Am I disturbed for thinking this way? Maybe I'm insane, or at least insecure. Therapy, that's what I need. I wish I could have a normal life, that fictitious perfection. Nobody's perfect though," stated Jesus. His monologue says it all. He punched the graffitied wall in front of him with all his might and walked out.
The major downfall of this country right now is how sheltered it is. People are alive but not really living. It is as if they are drones walking around, doing as they are told. To live but never breathe, never feel adrenaline, never risk your life, never challenge something is to live in tragedy.
Jesus thought of this as he left the 7-11, the parking lot, the bridge. His sheltered existence has kept him from seeing the truth. He wants to see the world, live life, find himself. Why should he stay here? Why should he screw up his life? He decided to leave Rodeo. Leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies. He walked to Maria's house. Time to settle things first.
"Hey, Jimmy. How are you?" asked Maria. She was acting a bit skittish.
"I'm fine. Can I come in?"
"Uuumm, I don't think that's such a great idea."
"What? Why?"
"What's that babe?" said JAR as he wrapped his arms around Maria.
"What the fuck?" yelled Jesus.
"Oh shit! Jesus!" said JAR.
"Oh my God, you fucking whore!" screamed Jesus. JAR ran out the backdoor as Jesus' temper continues to rise.
"Sorry," said Maria.
"Sorry? You're sorry? Don't fucking lie to me!"
"What do you want from me Jimmy? I'm fucking him, okay?"
"What was I to you? What the fuck was I to you?"
"A friend, someone I loved."
"I don't love you. I never loved you. You don't even get to be a memory." said Jesus as he started walking down the street. Maria followed him.
"He's fucking dead too then. You know what?" she grabbed his arm, "Fuck you!"
"Oh wait, you're gonna come after me? You're fucking just a pair of tits. That's al you ever were to me," screamed Jesus. His arms on Maria's shoulders gripped her so tight they were turning white.
"Let... let me go." Jesus obliged and stormed off into the night.
He was so angry. He felt so used. How could she do that to him? He was right. He needed to leave Rodeo. Leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies. This has not been the first time he had been used and it will not be the last. He has taken shit like this before and put up with it. Not this time. He will not apologize and take the blame for everything anymore. He may have nowhere to go, but it is better than here. Anyplace is better than here. Running away from all the lies, pain and memories. This is his life. His story. Tales from another broken home. He ran inside his apartment, packed his bags, and drove off. He was headed to Oakland, the big city.
A moth had passed since that night underneath the bridge, the night Jesus and Maria revealed their true feelings for each other. Everyone thought they made a great couple. Jesus was happy that a girl like Maria would even take a second look at him.
Jesus was on his way to the 7-11 to meet Maria. These days they were inseparable. He never wanted to be anywhere without her. He saw her down one of the aisles and he snuck around her and gave her a big hug.
"Hey, Jimmy. You know that we've been going out for a month and you've met my parents but I've ever met yours. I wanna see what kind of son you are," said Maria. Jimmy's entire demeanour changed and his eyes got dark.
"You don't have to. I'm the son of rage and love. That's all you need to know."
After that, Maria stopped asking about it. Jesus was doing well, in the beginning of their relationship, but he started getting into drugs. He survived off of a steady diet of soda pop and his mother's Ritalin. He started not just to doubt himself, but everyone around him. He questioned God saying that 'no one died for his sins'. His mind started to slip. He started to dream up this fictitious land of make believe because he did not believe in himself. Why should he? No one else did.
It started storming down raining so Jesus decided to go home. He walked in and sprawled himself out on top of the soft cushion of his mattress. He laid on his stomach and turned on the television. Shit, it's all shit. He looked around the house and noticed that his mother and Brad were away. Good, he hated the prick. He dug in his pocket for some change. Nothing. Ever since he fell for Maria he had subsequently fallen in debt. He looked underneath his bed and tore up his room more than it already was. He found what he was looking for. He had his own secret stash of alcohol, cigarettes, Mary Jane, even Jason's cocaine. Who cares if it is bad for his body? It is good for his soul. He waited out the rain and when it finally stopped, he threw on a black hoodie and walked back to the centre of his little world, the parking lot of the 7-11.
For the average Rodeo local, they know the town motto, 'Home is where your heart is'. It is a nice idea but the punks know better. Everyone's heart beats differently, out of time. Jesus looked around and noticed how quiet it was. Like a ghost town, a city of the dead. Rodeo is more like a city of the damned. Most people who end up here never leave, never have a good life. It is their black hole of deception. Rodeo also has an abundance of homeless. You walk down the street and you are bound to see some little kid asking for change. Too bad for him, no one cares.
Jesus walked into the 7-11, to his sanctuary. If Jesus could hide anywhere it would be in that bathroom. It is more like a home to him than his own. There was graffiti all over the walls, like a suburban proverb. Most of it was meaningless, but they all cofirmed what was true. Rodeo was the end of the world. The truth is that Jesus could not care less. He does not care about anything. He knows the truth, that everything is shit. The whole world is and everyone in it. It is not that we want or choose to be, it is the way that we were raised. This generation that we are living in cannot be good. There is peace and then war and then more temporary, plastic peace. Plastic peace, imaginary, false, easily broken. And not just those from Rodeo, but from Los Angeles to Houston to London to the Middle East. All war torn, full of false hopes and dreams. It is a scary time to be alive. Jesus understands this fact. That is why he created his escape. His so-called land of make believe that started out in a bathroom stall. Now Jesus has known this all along, but has never fully accepted it. Exception means it exists. Who really wants this to be the world they live in?
After a few hours in deep thought, Jesus had an epiphany. The world is full of shit. The lies, destruction, deception, false hope. He stood there in that bathroom stall and let it all soak in. The graffitied , suburban proverbs on a bathroom stall. He needed release. Even his land of make believe could not shelter him now. He grabbed a razor from the sink and let the truth run. He let the red run down the drain and put a tourniquet on his arm.
"Maybe no one will notice. No one listens. Is anyone here? Is this proof that we're all demented? Am I disturbed for thinking this way? Maybe I'm insane, or at least insecure. Therapy, that's what I need. I wish I could have a normal life, that fictitious perfection. Nobody's perfect though," stated Jesus. His monologue says it all. He punched the graffitied wall in front of him with all his might and walked out.
The major downfall of this country right now is how sheltered it is. People are alive but not really living. It is as if they are drones walking around, doing as they are told. To live but never breathe, never feel adrenaline, never risk your life, never challenge something is to live in tragedy.
Jesus thought of this as he left the 7-11, the parking lot, the bridge. His sheltered existence has kept him from seeing the truth. He wants to see the world, live life, find himself. Why should he stay here? Why should he screw up his life? He decided to leave Rodeo. Leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies. He walked to Maria's house. Time to settle things first.
"Hey, Jimmy. How are you?" asked Maria. She was acting a bit skittish.
"I'm fine. Can I come in?"
"Uuumm, I don't think that's such a great idea."
"What? Why?"
"What's that babe?" said JAR as he wrapped his arms around Maria.
"What the fuck?" yelled Jesus.
"Oh shit! Jesus!" said JAR.
"Oh my God, you fucking whore!" screamed Jesus. JAR ran out the backdoor as Jesus' temper continues to rise.
"Sorry," said Maria.
"Sorry? You're sorry? Don't fucking lie to me!"
"What do you want from me Jimmy? I'm fucking him, okay?"
"What was I to you? What the fuck was I to you?"
"A friend, someone I loved."
"I don't love you. I never loved you. You don't even get to be a memory." said Jesus as he started walking down the street. Maria followed him.
"He's fucking dead too then. You know what?" she grabbed his arm, "Fuck you!"
"Oh wait, you're gonna come after me? You're fucking just a pair of tits. That's al you ever were to me," screamed Jesus. His arms on Maria's shoulders gripped her so tight they were turning white.
"Let... let me go." Jesus obliged and stormed off into the night.
He was so angry. He felt so used. How could she do that to him? He was right. He needed to leave Rodeo. Leave behind this hurricane of fucking lies. This has not been the first time he had been used and it will not be the last. He has taken shit like this before and put up with it. Not this time. He will not apologize and take the blame for everything anymore. He may have nowhere to go, but it is better than here. Anyplace is better than here. Running away from all the lies, pain and memories. This is his life. His story. Tales from another broken home. He ran inside his apartment, packed his bags, and drove off. He was headed to Oakland, the big city.