Argh, arg-arg-arg-arg!

Foreword: All Along The Watchtower

    I was never good at listening under any circumstances. It didn't even matter what it was I was to listen to. Anything ranging from dialogue to homilies to lectures from Ms. McLaughlin, I was atrocious at retaining information that was directly presented to me (otherwise known as listening).
I would've considered this to simply be an expression of myself being lazy long ago, being stubborn about listening to things I didn't want to, but I debunked that after a pivotal realization: Half the time I couldn't even listen to things that I wanted to listen to.
    I really don't know why I don't listen well, I kinda wanna just chalk it up to ADHD but part of me thinks it's because I hold this arrogant sentiment about not being told what to do, like it's an oppressive force trying to overtake my life. I knew that as instinctive and hard-wired this trait of mine was, it was still utterly ridiculous that I would refrain from watching lyric videos of songs I enjoyed because I would've rather formulated my own idea of what the words were. Most of the time I'd end up coming up with absurd lyrics that made no sense but felt right to me. Then there was the occasional misunderstanding that taught me something.
And by occasional, I mean it only happened once.
    I don't rightly know much about the song "All Along the Watchtower", besides the fact it was originally written by Bob Dylan and made into an awesome rock song by Jimi Hendrix.
Accurately, a series of the lyrics sing:
   
Businessmen, they drink my wine,
    Ploughmen dig my earth,
    None were level on the mind,
    Nobody up at his word, hey!--

    This was then followed by an epic guitar solo.
    A lot of things happened after the events in this book did, and it was one after another. I wouldn't write about those things, of course. If I continue to write about things that transpired in my childhood after this book, then surely I'm going to spend the rest of my life doing just that. Otherwise, I could actually go out and have another genuine, honest-to-God adventure.
    My point remains that from 2015 onward in my life, there were a lot of bad things happening in the world. I didn't get the worst of it of course, there has always been bad stuff happening, and there were plenty of others who were going through hell on earth. Still, my comrades and I had our own private hell, just not as hot as the next guy's -- not necessarily as cold, either.
    There were sometimes that we were alone. Rather, there were sometimes that I was alone. I'd spend years distraught, discombobulated, trying to figure out if I even wanted to understand what was happening. Rest assured, every character in this story from the coldest of villains to the warmest of friends went through the same pain. Everyone does sooner or later, or so I tell myself.
    But if there was ever one thing, anything that gave me comfort in those times, in these times today, in the times that will come, it was my original interpretation of "All Along The Watchtower".
    I heard:

    Business medley, drink my wine,
    Come and dig my earth,
    None will ever own the mind.

    And I've spent the rest of my life with that sentiment in my head. I am the only person who will own my mind. Come hell and high water, nobody's going to change my thoughts, my memories, my goals, my interpretation of life and this world -- Nobody up in this world,
    Hey!--

*epic guitar solo*
Room 9