Parallel Delusions
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- Parts 25
MatureComplete Wed, Sep 16, 20206h 36m
I waited. I waited for so long to get the truth. The truth about me and who I was. It appeared in the body of a blessing, or a curse? Who knows? After some time, all I wanted to figure out was what was real and what wasn't. I was confused. To the point where I didn't know if the world was even real, or that I was just another crazy kid with delusions. My dear truth, I just want to tell you, that I love you so much, so much that I hope...
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"God, Gerard," he moaned, "Are you that oblivious?" Frank watched him nod with a shrug. He rolled his eyes and continued nonetheless, "I really like you. I just wanna be fucking normal!" He huffed rubbing his eyes, "I wanna do stuff that I would do if we were normal. Like fucking romance shit. Like holding hands on the roof and looking at stars. Or sing to my Pandora station while we clean parts of the church before Sunday. Or make out in the back of my car and listen to my favorite songs. And god I would kill to dance in the rain with you and not have to worry about anything. No vampire shit. No age gap. No fucking rumors. You know that half of this goddamn town knows about my love life?" He removed his hands from his eyes to stare at Gerard who was staring back intensely, "It sucks. Everything sucks. My fucking life sucks." TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of gore, mentions of loss, mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, and suicidal actions, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHComplete
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Short Of a Breath
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(written in 2016) 2016/01/20 Sunday. If you really want to know about me, this first thing you'd want to read is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and what my parents did in their spare time before they had me, and all that John Green kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you really want to know the truth. In fact, I'd much rather start of by saying that my name is Mikey Way and I spend at least 16 hours a day of my life sitting in a wheelchair. I'd also like to let everyone here know that they are under no obligation to read my blog but I am under obligation to write it. On account of the fact that my therapist thinks I'm John Watson or some crap. Regardless, here I am, pretending to have something to say about how my day went even though if anyone asked I would say that I was fine. Because that's just what you're supposed to say instead of saying that it's cold and miserable and if you died you wouldn't really mind. But I'll post this anyway while pretending to think that anyone will read it.
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