You Do Not See the Man In the Corner
Hello, where shall we begin?
You do not see the man in the corner, you do not even listen to him… But, then again, how could you?
He’s not a very well-known person. He’s not a very well-liked person. He’s just…there. Who is this person? Where did he come from? And, why is he important enough to bare mentioning?
These are all very good questions, but not the ones to start with. The real question is, what is the basic point and setting of this story? That, my dear friends, is the way to start off this tail.
Gerard was just a teenager in his sophomore year of high school. He didn’t have very many friends. He wasn’t very well liked. But, alas, this isn’t the saddest part about him. He’s a very nice, open, and gentle person. He’s always writing, whether it’s music, books, poems, or journals…he’s ALWAYS writing. In fact, if he had to do a short story on just that, he’d find that the only time he wasn’t writing was in his sleep.
So, why does he bare mentioning? Is there going to be some big event that makes him look like a hero? No, there’s not. Sorry to disappoint you, but this is just the everyday, ordinary, average, quiet, teenage boy. Hey, it’s not like he’s that different from the rest of us. Gerard has been through quite a bit in his sixteen years of this lifetime. His father died when he was seven, his mother died when he was thirteen, he got put in the eighth adoptive home he’d been in when he was fifteen.
It’s not that he was a bad kid or anything. Gerard was just a very misunderstood boy, that’s all. He had to have music going 24/7/365, otherwise he’d go into a panic attack. You see, Gerard had a condition that made him very paranoid.
This poor child is just one among us, under a different name, but none the less among us. He’s a simple teenage boy, just as all of the rest of the guys in our school. He has an ordinary school life now, if you call being shoved into his locker on an hourly basis ordinary or normal.
He only has three friends: His pens, His pencils, and His Notebooks.
Who is this child? Who is this boy? It’s not a boy at all, to be completely honest with you. This is the basic description of one of us, within this very class. Not the whole death in the family thing; that was changed up a bit. So, again, who is this child you may ask?
Who is this child in the corner? Do you even understand who this person is in the corner? No, you don’t. Of course not… You do not see the man in the corner, you do not even listen to him… But, then again, how could you? This is me, my life, and my story. Not that you care to read it, to listen to it, or to even bother to let me finish it…
Since you have such little interest in my story, I’ll let you go. But, before I do, here’s a little something for you to moll her brain around: If I hadn’t brought up the man in the corner, would you have even known he was there before he rotted and stunk up the room with his rotting corpse?
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Tuяn Up Tнe Vσℓυмe♪
: .ılı.——Volume——.ılı.
: ▄ █ ▄ █ ▄ ▄ █ ▄ █ ▄ █
: Min- – – – – – – – – – -●Max
Thank you...for at least caring enough to read...
He’s not a very well-known person. He’s not a very well-liked person. He’s just…there. Who is this person? Where did he come from? And, why is he important enough to bare mentioning?
These are all very good questions, but not the ones to start with. The real question is, what is the basic point and setting of this story? That, my dear friends, is the way to start off this tail.
Gerard was just a teenager in his sophomore year of high school. He didn’t have very many friends. He wasn’t very well liked. But, alas, this isn’t the saddest part about him. He’s a very nice, open, and gentle person. He’s always writing, whether it’s music, books, poems, or journals…he’s ALWAYS writing. In fact, if he had to do a short story on just that, he’d find that the only time he wasn’t writing was in his sleep.
So, why does he bare mentioning? Is there going to be some big event that makes him look like a hero? No, there’s not. Sorry to disappoint you, but this is just the everyday, ordinary, average, quiet, teenage boy. Hey, it’s not like he’s that different from the rest of us. Gerard has been through quite a bit in his sixteen years of this lifetime. His father died when he was seven, his mother died when he was thirteen, he got put in the eighth adoptive home he’d been in when he was fifteen.
It’s not that he was a bad kid or anything. Gerard was just a very misunderstood boy, that’s all. He had to have music going 24/7/365, otherwise he’d go into a panic attack. You see, Gerard had a condition that made him very paranoid.
This poor child is just one among us, under a different name, but none the less among us. He’s a simple teenage boy, just as all of the rest of the guys in our school. He has an ordinary school life now, if you call being shoved into his locker on an hourly basis ordinary or normal.
He only has three friends: His pens, His pencils, and His Notebooks.
Who is this child? Who is this boy? It’s not a boy at all, to be completely honest with you. This is the basic description of one of us, within this very class. Not the whole death in the family thing; that was changed up a bit. So, again, who is this child you may ask?
Who is this child in the corner? Do you even understand who this person is in the corner? No, you don’t. Of course not… You do not see the man in the corner, you do not even listen to him… But, then again, how could you? This is me, my life, and my story. Not that you care to read it, to listen to it, or to even bother to let me finish it…
Since you have such little interest in my story, I’ll let you go. But, before I do, here’s a little something for you to moll her brain around: If I hadn’t brought up the man in the corner, would you have even known he was there before he rotted and stunk up the room with his rotting corpse?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tuяn Up Tнe Vσℓυмe♪
: .ılı.——Volume——.ılı.
: ▄ █ ▄ █ ▄ ▄ █ ▄ █ ▄ █
: Min- – – – – – – – – – -●Max
Thank you...for at least caring enough to read...