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# Rock 'n' Roll, Becoming a Bird Without Feet — Chapter 1
## Prologue
Do you know about the bird without feet?
It cannot land on the ground.
It lives in the sky its entire life.
When it gets tired, it spreads its wings,
entrusts its body to the wind,
and falls asleep.
It lands on the ground only once in its entire life.
That is when it dies.
Those are lines from the movie "Elvis."
That was how I wanted to live. I failed spectacularly, though.
If I had to define my life in one sentence, it would be this.
I was the kind of bastard who lived off other people's attention,
yet I ignored what the public wanted,
lived only doing what I wanted to do,
and blamed everyone else.
And if I had to give one simple reason for why I ruined my life, it would be this.
Those damn Pantera and Sepultura ruined everything.
Two bands whose names mean leopard and grave in Spanish and Portuguese, respectively.
Out of all the bands in the world, I just had to fall in love with those two, and my life plunged straight into the abyss.
But if, during my youth, I had liked Bon Jovi or Skid Row, or at the very least Metallica, which had some degree of mainstream appeal, would my present have turned out differently?
Probably not.
Unless I had been a Yankee born in America, my ending in South Korea, a wasteland for rock music, would probably have been the same.
That much was certain.
Ever since I was young, I had continuously listened to thrash metal until it became a habit. I became obsessed with the teenage fantasy of being someone who knew how to enjoy truly unique and niche music, and even now, I was still a pathetic idiot who had never managed to escape that fateful choice.
I was slowly growing old even now.