Status: Alexandra is coming to save the day! You angel. <3
These Words Are All I Have so I'll Write Them
Mikey, if you read this you're dead meat.
Dear Diary.
Okay what the fuck are you meant to write in these things? Stupid Dylan. How am I meant to know what to write? Okay...well maybe I should start with who I am, why I'm writing this crap and shit like that. Sound good? Wait, I'm talking to a freaking DIARY for Christ's sake...Oh well, it's my diary...journal...whatever. The point is I'm allowed.
So...I'm Gerard Arthur Way. I have depression and my stupid fucker of a doctor (Who is also my cousin) is making me write this crazy journal thing 'cause he reckons it's gonna make me feel better. Yeah right. They've been trying for two years now. Nothing has worked. Why don't they just pump me full of pills already? They haven't tried that yet. What else.
Oh yeah.
I'm a cutter.
Deal with it motherfucker.
It's not like I can help it. I tried and tried but I just couldn't stop. So yeah, now it's just getting worse. The harder I try, the worse it gets. Thats not my fault though. I'm making an effort at least.
Oh well maybe I should talk about my family for a bit.
Well, I have a little brother, Mikey. We're really close. He's twelve but he's like, mega mature for his age. He's also a complete sucker for this dude in his class. Yeah you heard me, I said dude. We're both gay so go get screwed. Anyway. Yeah, he really got embaressed the other night. He had a wet dream over this guy called.....oh what's his name? Oh who cares...well obviously Mikey. *Snigger*
On to the rents I guess. Well my paren't aren't terrible. They worry too much. Therefore I don't really talk to them much. I don't talk to anyone much to be honest, nor do I go out. As you can probably tell. I don't really know what to say about my parent's really so I'll just leave it as; they love me. I love them. End of story.
Next in the tour of my stupid life...that place...that stupid place that I would like to take a lighter and an aerosol can to...School. I hate it. I hate the people, the people hate me and I have no friends.
It sucks.
Appart from this one guy. He sits next to me in all my classes and he never says a fuckin' word to anyone! Appart from the blonde dude that sits on the other side of him, Robert...or Bob. The guy I'm talking about looks real cool. You should see him!
Oh wait.
You're only paper so you can't see his sexy being.
Oh how lame.
Anyway, I was talking about Frank. Oh shit wasn't meant to put his name. Oh well, my plan to keep him nameless failed...miserably. I'd go back and erase that...but I'm using pen...and you can totally erase pen can't you. Dude, I'm so retarded. ANYWAY! Yeah, appart from Frank, school is my prison. My hell. However, Frank makes it worthwhile. I mean...he's so hot.
Ohhh shit. I sound like a GIRL! Well paper diary journal thing, I'll have you know that I'm allowed so fuck you! Why am I still talking to you? Well, I know that technically it's not talking but...OH WHATEVER!
I need to stop getting mad at you. I don't wanna hurt your feelings or...Oh what the hell am doing? Surely I'm losing it.
So...what do I talk about now? Um...I need a hug now. I'm so strange. My sanity has dissapeared out of my ears and floated up to the heavens. Or something just as overdramatic. I'm gay, I'm allowed to be overdramatic. *Cries* Oh Diary!
Anyway. Now I'm over my fetish for you, Diary and your paper which I just discovered smells really good. Don't ask me why I'm sniffing your pretty paper Diary. It looks nice so I thought it might smell nice too. I guess...oh never mind. I can do some pretty random stuff when I'm on my own. Oh damn. Now I gotta go eat. Damn food. Ruined my rambling. See ya Diary.
(I really need to stop having conversations with paper)
xo Gee
P.S. If I shoot myself or bleed to death from cutting too deep with my razorblade or hang myself or anything I probably won't write again. Obviously. Oh for fucks sake. I'M COMING MOTHER! Fucking bloody hell. Freakin' shit.
Okay what the fuck are you meant to write in these things? Stupid Dylan. How am I meant to know what to write? Okay...well maybe I should start with who I am, why I'm writing this crap and shit like that. Sound good? Wait, I'm talking to a freaking DIARY for Christ's sake...Oh well, it's my diary...journal...whatever. The point is I'm allowed.
So...I'm Gerard Arthur Way. I have depression and my stupid fucker of a doctor (Who is also my cousin) is making me write this crazy journal thing 'cause he reckons it's gonna make me feel better. Yeah right. They've been trying for two years now. Nothing has worked. Why don't they just pump me full of pills already? They haven't tried that yet. What else.
Oh yeah.
I'm a cutter.
Deal with it motherfucker.
It's not like I can help it. I tried and tried but I just couldn't stop. So yeah, now it's just getting worse. The harder I try, the worse it gets. Thats not my fault though. I'm making an effort at least.
Oh well maybe I should talk about my family for a bit.
Well, I have a little brother, Mikey. We're really close. He's twelve but he's like, mega mature for his age. He's also a complete sucker for this dude in his class. Yeah you heard me, I said dude. We're both gay so go get screwed. Anyway. Yeah, he really got embaressed the other night. He had a wet dream over this guy called.....oh what's his name? Oh who cares...well obviously Mikey. *Snigger*
On to the rents I guess. Well my paren't aren't terrible. They worry too much. Therefore I don't really talk to them much. I don't talk to anyone much to be honest, nor do I go out. As you can probably tell. I don't really know what to say about my parent's really so I'll just leave it as; they love me. I love them. End of story.
Next in the tour of my stupid life...that place...that stupid place that I would like to take a lighter and an aerosol can to...School. I hate it. I hate the people, the people hate me and I have no friends.
It sucks.
Appart from this one guy. He sits next to me in all my classes and he never says a fuckin' word to anyone! Appart from the blonde dude that sits on the other side of him, Robert...or Bob. The guy I'm talking about looks real cool. You should see him!
Oh wait.
You're only paper so you can't see his sexy being.
Oh how lame.
Anyway, I was talking about Frank. Oh shit wasn't meant to put his name. Oh well, my plan to keep him nameless failed...miserably. I'd go back and erase that...but I'm using pen...and you can totally erase pen can't you. Dude, I'm so retarded. ANYWAY! Yeah, appart from Frank, school is my prison. My hell. However, Frank makes it worthwhile. I mean...he's so hot.
Ohhh shit. I sound like a GIRL! Well paper diary journal thing, I'll have you know that I'm allowed so fuck you! Why am I still talking to you? Well, I know that technically it's not talking but...OH WHATEVER!
I need to stop getting mad at you. I don't wanna hurt your feelings or...Oh what the hell am doing? Surely I'm losing it.
So...what do I talk about now? Um...I need a hug now. I'm so strange. My sanity has dissapeared out of my ears and floated up to the heavens. Or something just as overdramatic. I'm gay, I'm allowed to be overdramatic. *Cries* Oh Diary!
Anyway. Now I'm over my fetish for you, Diary and your paper which I just discovered smells really good. Don't ask me why I'm sniffing your pretty paper Diary. It looks nice so I thought it might smell nice too. I guess...oh never mind. I can do some pretty random stuff when I'm on my own. Oh damn. Now I gotta go eat. Damn food. Ruined my rambling. See ya Diary.
(I really need to stop having conversations with paper)
xo Gee
P.S. If I shoot myself or bleed to death from cutting too deep with my razorblade or hang myself or anything I probably won't write again. Obviously. Oh for fucks sake. I'M COMING MOTHER! Fucking bloody hell. Freakin' shit.
♠ ♠ ♠
So what so you think? Comments?