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Icy Blues

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

12:24PM - Depressed

Let me tell you one thing. Summer has been too long. i feel very depressed like i am messing up somehow and I feel like I want to cry. I feel like if I don't try so hard that I'll lose someone very very veryyyy speacial to me. He says don't try so hard stop questionoing yourself everything will be fine. But when i get home i find myself screaming inside. like..whyyy did i say that or i am destroying something. goddd why am i such a dick???? We watched the virgin suicides and laid together. And with him I feel so happy....just so complete. if i ever lost him i would fall apart completely. Life scares me.

Friday, August 10, 2007

2:24PM - Satelite

There was a boy
frail and small in my mind
brown hair in his face
 he was a littlle satelite in
ate sugar cones and cried
nothing hurt so much
as falling in love with stars
and then watching them fall
 he sat there all alone wishing
some one would pass by.
on and on it rained splashing
his tears and melting his tears.
He could not compose his fears.
Dying of an emotional cancer,
he sat there in the rain of 
music played and played as
he hit the keys. so sad and 
beautiful with melancholy residue.
the boy looked past his eyes
and looked into a blue looking glass.
he looked through them and felt 
that he could fly.

Friday, August 3, 2007

11:21AM - You are the moon/ the hush sound

Shadows all around you as you surface from the dark
Emerging from the gentle grip of night's unfolding arms
Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
The subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone

You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and slear
It floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe

I will bring a mirror, so silver, so exact
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass
I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky
So you can see your beauty every morning that you rise

Sunday, July 15, 2007

10:50AM - Journal Entry

Back in my kitchen again. got to get therough another week. in exactly a week, we will be in cape cod. plan for this week....sunday (today) do nothing, Monday go to work (gag) Tuesday go to work (yawn) Wednesday, tHursday and friday, go to work and see Zack.  saturday ? and Sunday go to cape cod with Zack. for a whole week. so thats this week. i dont think that i will be able to (or want to) get to a computer on the cape. i will be blog free for a week. and work free. and mom and marcus free. so yay. sorry i havent been writing much of my story., ive been working and seeing zack as much as possible this past week. only 5 more days left of work yay!

Current mood: expectant

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

10:57AM - violet scars a small part of the sequel to the Gerard story

Violet Scars (copyrighted by Ethan Woods so dont steal)

The hospital bed he lay in was soiled with dirt from his hair and his clothes. tHe hospital gown was dirty because they had not yet cleaned him. He knew none of this. He lay oblivious to the world. As he lay there, he dreamed. He dreamed of sunsets and of empty piers and sometimes people. and he saw himself as he always was. he was 5' 7 and slim. He had a very beautiful face; extremely pale and fair like porcelain, he had a small short pointed nose, hazel eyes, black eyebrows, a small knowing mouth and long black hair an inch or two past chin length and little ears that were hidden by it. he wore dark clothes and converse sneakers or none at all. His name was Gerard Robinson. and he was in a coma. although he himself didn't know it. Sunset came the first time on a rainy autumn day. He looked around at his surroundings and found himself to be confused. He was on the pier of a marina looking out at the water beneath him. he had the strange sensation of floating although he could feel the ground beneath him and his arms dangeled over the rail. tHere were very few people around and he was very cold. All he wore was a baggy Black sabbath T-shirt and gray pants too big for him. tHey were cotton. He never wore jeans. In his pockets he felt the pot that he smoked and the red and blue pills that he popped. he didn't use them that often. Only when t hings turned really bad and his depression peaked.  The sunset was  bluish--indigo and sent a chill down his spine. His feet were freezing and it was then that he noticed he was barefoot. he had such small feet and small hands. His drifting gaze caught a young girl dipping her feet in the water. She had light brown hair his lengtyh and wore a peacoat and trousers. her shoes were beside her and she looked nostalgicly out into the water. tHere was some sadness about her Gerard noticed. He wanted to put an arm around her but he remained looking out at the sunset, his arms dangeling over the railing. he felt so strange, almost dizzy  and sad. He had the feeling that he had lost something or forgotten about something. When he tried to remember he coulden't recall anything. Just his name and his age. Gerard, 17. that was all he had. a small gust of wind blew his long hair in his face.  where was he? he heard music playing from somewhere, maybe from someone's car or an open apartment window nearby. "well let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all. I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling." As he looked back at the sunset, it seemed to dive down into the murky water below. and he felt a swaying and a blackness. For now his mind had returned to the hospital room in a pool of blackness.  to be continued.......


Tuesday, July 3, 2007

6:34AM - today

is 6 :34 in the morning. im hungry, tired and cold. im wearing my old green army jacket that i used to tote around freshman year. im almost too tired to type. almost. today zacky is coming over. woo-hoo! now to cure the extreme hunger pains in my stomach and to get some last minute sleep............

Current mood: touched

Monday, July 2, 2007

11:30AM - still depressed

how are some ppl always happy? i cannot pull that off. its like wer'e in the middle of an earth quake and lets still be happy. my mom's on her deathbed and that smiling person is still happy. its 150 degrees today and ppl are dropping dead and that person is still happy lol. its 11:33 in the afternoon. in my mind 11 is afternoon lol. im going to start my 12th grade year. i had a nightmare about school last night. i had a nightmare that they changed my homeroom *again* to 8 this time and it was all the way in Bradlaw. Which is stupid because that would be in Tirrel. in my nightmare my fiance was in none of my classes and i had this reaalllyy
creepy music as poetry teacher. its july 2nd. ive had enough of summer vacation. i want to go back to school. it wont be so bad this time around b/c i have fun easy classes minus english. i hope the nightmare won't come true. i will cry so hard if it does. it was extremely rough not having zack in any of my classes. god i feel so depressed. grrrrarrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Current mood: depressed

11:28AM - Writer's Block: Summer Break

How did you spend summers when you were a kid?

i spent it being tortured. like right now. except im 17 and i have nothinnggg to do today.

Current mood: crappy

10:30AM - depression

ive had early signs of serious depression all of my life. the smallest thing can set me into a gloomy state. can bring me to tears. i live very much a fairy tale life. i have a knight in shining armor fiance who rescued me, i have an evil mother and i go to a beautiful high school that i hate. i have night mares about school. theyre weird or twisted or too mundane.
this summer is half a nightmare, im stuck at my mom's house. i see my fiance whenever i can.
the other half of the summer is heaven, in his arms.

Current mood: sad

Thursday, June 28, 2007

11:09AM - appyling gerard story to my life

I wrote the novel when i was in the 10th grade when i was going th rough  a very peculiar time, and maybe my connection to MCR and Gerard WAy was strongest. while many ppl mostly girls write stories about MCR or Gerard Way its these sappy love stories that really have no meaning.  the story really was about me although my character looked  just  like long haired gerard way. he wasent gerard way...he was gerard robinson a high school junior who was growing up  in the 90's and facing discrimination and serious family issues. he has alot of my traits...wanting to be anywhere but home, being somewhat of a stray cat, hating high school. the character that i made was also alot like my fiance zack. at the time i wrote the story he and i werent together but the next year we got engaged and i realized that subconsciously i had put his personality into gerard robinson as well. this story was the product of my teenage years which were terrible, blissful, lonely, and at the very end rewarding.

Current mood: calm

10:03AM - mcr headfirst for halos

My Chemical Romance - Headfirst For Halos lyrics

Well let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all
I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling
And now the red ones make me fly
And the blue ones help me fall
And I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling
And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall
Fall on your tongue like pixie dust just think happy thoughts
And we'll fly home
We'll fly home
You and I
We'll fly home

Now honestly that's what I said to her, what I said to her

Think happy thoughts

Current mood: hopeful

8:56AM - ethan woods personality

shudder and shake the graveness of my voice
shimmer and remember him
shiver and remember him
believe and seek all the words that were sung
cover up anger
and tears and confusion
listening to us laugh in unison
to later crash into depression three hours later
to call you all crying
and fearing life is over
and then to be hysterically happy
drunk with kisses and treats
and miscellaneous wishes
and melt my heart with your thousands of kisses

Current mood: missing you

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

10:06PM - MCR's first album

MCR's first album is very raw
very real, and is the soundtrack to  my life as well as my first novel
Gerard robinson, about a young man who looks like the
long haired Gerard Way and bears the personality of both 
me and my fiance. This novel should one day be in print and the second chapter
is on my blog for your convience.
MCR's music has inspired my life and my writing (my book espescially)
I condone such lines as running away and hiding with you and hand in mine into
your icy blues and then i'd say to you we can to the high way with this trunk on ammuntiton
i'd end my days with you....these words are however extremely sad and very poetic like i would drive onto the 
end with you. and i have grown up with these words. they have grown into me and have become a part of me.
i have also welcomed their other two albums. but, listen to the first one. we can sometimes learn things about  ourselves through music. and that makes it even more beautiful. that was really how i learned to write poetry about my life mainly, as these lyrics are about my life. my life has been very hard and probably will be for the next  year but I have an angel. and if something ever happened to that angel I don't want to tell you what I would do. Read my poetry and you should already know. Gerard Way's voice is my voice. Gerard Robinson's voice is my voice. My angel's voice is my voice. I live in a small city with my mother and my brother and a family friend. It is hell in a way. i pick up very closely on energies and my city does not have good ones. and i feel them. and they make me hurt on the inside. I am what htey call an Indigo child. it is a New Age term to describe youth born in a certain time frame with speacial ablities. Indifo Children have it tough. Most people do. But at a young age I could feel these terribly depressing energies all around me. Energies that caused me to feel depressed and hopeless as I have my entire life. but i have an angel. And without him i would not be here. i could never tell you my life story. I would be up all night. but just know that things are not what they seem and things are creepier than they appear to be.

Current mood: nostalgic

10:01PM - poem

Dead End So Sweetness by Ethan Woods

They think that we’re too knocked up

To see the future

That we were all babies dropped on our heads

That there was nothing inside and that we pretend all

The pain while we actually dance upon flames and reminisce

About life after death

They think that we’ll end up killing ourselves

When they were already dead

They think that we’re babies having babies

And that we’ll quit high school instead

That we have no chance in our future and no thoughts in our heads

They assume we think we know everything

While wer’e not sure of anything at all

They think we’ll screw up

Fuck up until the end

Achieve nothing until wer’e dead

With a bullet in the head

In my mind a voice whispered

Take his hand

You’re meant to be

You don’t have to die in

This place

9:58PM - poem

Pain In Progress by Ethan Woods

Depression, like everything else

Is a game we play

Stardom like everything else is something that we can never achieve

Pain is relative everyone experiences it. Sometimes I feel like I have stepped into a very large deep hole and I am being swallowed by my own depression and fears. My entire life I have been swallowed up by such unhappiness. =(

I want to scream out to the world but sometimes my voice echoes and is returned back to me, back into my own throat and the pain gets stuck inside

Until I can’t take it anymore and I envision myself drowning in a river or stream. Face down, my heart too frozen to beat. my feet too tired to walk any longer. then suddenly uplifted by an angel. And all the world is sweet.

Current mood: grateful

Saturday, June 23, 2007

5:31PM - chapter 2 of my book gerard robinson

Chapter 2:

Gerard Robinson

Written by Ethan woods

Quickly, he went to the back door and twisted the knob. It opened and he went inside. Before he could even close the door, his mother pounced on him. Her hair was a mess; her eyes were mean and nasty. An ugly look was set upon her face. She was very very angry. In fact, she was irate. "Where the hell have you been, Gerard? I have been waiting for you to come home for forty-five minutes. And, you left your brother unattended. You left your nine year old brother alone, hungry, waiting for you while it’s getting dark outside." She screamed, her voice loud enough to shatter glass or destroy something.

Everything was suddenly too loud and too bright. The kitchen light hurt his eyes. Gerard could see Luke cowering in the corner, covering his ears, obviously terrified of his mother’s voice. "Look at me." She screamed, grabbing him so that he was forced to look at her. "you know your’e not allowed out this late, you know your’e supposed to be home for you r brother. You know, bur you don’t care. From now on, I’m putting him in the care of the next door neighbors. I have no time for your lazy butt to actually accept your responsibilities." Gerard found it hard to look at him. He didn’t want to admit it, but she scared him. "Ok." He said softly. "Good," she said "Go to your room. Go do your homework. Luke, come over here. We need to get you into the shower."

Gerard passed through the dining room, messy as it always was, papers strewn all over the table. He ran up to his room, up the darkened staircase. Run, he thought, run as fast as you possibly can. He reached his room and shut the door. His beating heart and quaking breath slowed rapidly.

He was practically flunking history. This was the fifth time that he didn’t have hid homework. And it was the second time that his backpack was where it shouldn’t be. And today was the first day that his teacher hadn’t marked him absent. The other kids looked at him, smirking, whispering behind their spiral notebooks and fancy folders. Their teacher, Mr. Landers, who had seemed to like him in the past, set upon him a glare as cold as ice. ‘Anyone else forget their homework?" he asked sending scathing looks towards every single one of them. They all innocently shook their heads primly. Gerard hated them all of a sudden.

Mr. Landers turned to Gerard. "You, see me after class. Now, lets all turn to page 149. Can someone tell me what we learned yesterday?" Gerard sat there, looking at his desk, eyes downcast. A long piece of his black hair fell into his eyes. He let it stay there, not bothering to pull it back. If he failed the semester this early in the year, that would look really bad. School had just begun a month and a half ago and already he was screwing up. And already, he thought, as the class began to file out, it was time to go see Mr. Landers.

Gerard stiffly walked up to Mr. Lander’s desk. Mr. Landers was going through some homework papers, shuffling them and straightening them out. He looked at mr. Landers who was tired looking and old, wisps of thin white hair emerging from his head. His blue eyes looked faded behind his glasses. His shirt was crumpled and his tie was askew. Mr. Landers leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Gerard, I hate to interfere with a student’s personal life, because it is none of my business. But in your case, I feel obliged to. You haven’t been coming to class, and when you do, you come unprepared and look sad and tired." The teacher gave Gerard a moment to speak. "Mr. Landers, I do come to class, everyday in fact. You don’t see me I guess, because I usually sit in the back row. I didn’t sit there today, because when I came in, the back seats were all taken." Gerard said truthfully looking his teacher in the eye. "If you do attend my class, then why don’t you turn in your homework I assign?" he asked irritation in his voice.

"I do the homework, except that I forget it at home, or I forget my backpack by mistake. I did hand in homework two weeks ago and I got an A on it as I recall." Said Gerard. His teacher looked at him. Gerard looked so sad and worn out. Loss of sleep? Mr. Landers sighed. "Gerard, I am giving you until a week from today to hand in the missing assignments you owe me. It’s bringing down your grade." Gerard nodded, biting his lip. "Ok, thanks Mr. Landers."

Aa Gerard emerged from the building, an unfriendly gust of wind blew at him, sending a shiver down his spine. He remembered that inside his backpack was his leather jacket, and he rubbed his arms trying to warm them. He knew that he had to get his backpack back, and that meant making the long journey to the abandoned part of town through the graveyard and woods. His bones ached from all the walking, but at least, he thought, he woulden’t have to be home for Luke because he was at a neighbor’s. Gerard felt bad, feeling that he had let Luke down somehow. Sure, he had left him alone for an hour or whatever, but his brother was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

Gerard started walking faster, telling himself to get a move on, and letting the wind blow through his long hair. The wind was getting really intense, and scattered leaves flew every which way. Gerard silently promised himself that he would be home before dark. Then he remembered his mother wouldn’t be home until late, so he had plenty of time to kill.

The harder the wind blew, the faster he walked, and he arrived at the graveyard in half the time he usually did. He should have been exhausted but instead, he refreshed, and heaved open the iron gates with newfound strength. The graveyard was silent as a dead cat, and there was not a soul around. Gerard reminded himself that all the inhabitants were dead. He strolled briskly through the graveyard, knowing that he had a lot of time and that he should not waste it. He needed to get his backpack and jacket back. Mr. Landers also needed the homework. When he got to the forest gate, he jumped it with such an ease, you might’ve thought he had done it a hundred times. Through the woods he tramped again taking careful steps over logs.

He looked up into the trees as he walked, admiring their firery red and pumpkin orange leaves. It was a long way to Shelley’s house, but he remembered the way almost perfectly. By the time he had gotten to Shelley’s house and knocked on the door it was four thirty. He waited on the doorstep for a couple of mintues before she answered the door. She came to open it, looking tired, her hair a fluffy mess. She wore an old gray frock with black stockings. Tied around her waist was an apron , and it was a rather dirty shade of white. She held a duster in her right hand. "Well hello Gerard. Please come in."

She swung the door open, almost hiting him. Gerard stepped inside. He looked at her puzzled. "you look shorter than before." He said looking down at her She barely came up to her chest. She laughed. "I had shoes on last time." They went into the kitchen and she told him to sit down at the table. Shelley went into the living room and came out with his backpack. "You left this here last night." She said setting it down next to him. "Thank you." Her said and silently heaved a silent sigh of relief. Shelley turned to the stove and began cooking. She began throwing in herbs in spices, and cutting up potatoes and broccoli on the counter. "So what school do you go to?" asked Shelley slicing up some onions and putting them in the pot. Gerard wondered if it was a stew of some sort and winced as he remembered the soggy turkey stew.

"Um," he began "I go to a prep school." He said a pained expression on his face. Without looking at him, Shelley said "You don’t like it, do you?" Gerard shook his head. "Nooo. Everyone there are total snobs." She looked at him for a moment and then went back to her cooking. "You don’t look like one of them. The black clothes, the Black Sabbath T-shirt, the dyed black hair." She said. "Um, my hair is naturally black. But anyway, I’m nothing like them. They’re so full of themselves. I hate people like that." He said. Gerard got up and helped Shelley clear the counter of potato and onion pieces.

Shelley told him that all of these vegetables had come from her garden. "Is gardening your hobby?" Gerard asked. "oh, yes," she said. "Cleaning, cooking and gardening are my hobbies. I like everything neat and tidy. That’s why I allow no shoes in the house." She said eying Gerard’s shoes. "Oh." He said off-handedly and placed them in the hall. When he came back, she smiled. "It’s ok, Gerard, you didn’t know. Oh well, the stew’s ready. Sit down and have some dinner with me."

He sat down as Shelley filled two bowls and rummaged through the drawer for spoons. Gerard thanked her and took the stew hungrily. She sat down across from him and ate daintily. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was definitely hungry, as he was chowing down. Gerard usually ate TV dinners for supper, which is not the most appetizing thing in the world, especially if you eat them almost everyday. "would you like some bread?" Shelley asked him. "Sure. I mean, thank you." He said taking it. She took a piece of French bread also, dunking it daintily in her soup. "Your mother won’t be expecting you for dinner I hope?" she asked. "No She’s at work. She always works late." He answered flatly. Shelley dipped her spoon into the soup, and then poured it back into the bowl. "Do you and your mother get along?"

"Well," began Gerard stirring his stew. "Not really. She and my younger brother get along famously. She dosen’t like my clothes, music, my hair, or my grades. I stay away as much as I possibly can." Gerard said. Shelley was silent for a moment, looking into her soup as if it were a crystal ball that could tell her advice to give to Gerard. "My mother and I never got along either. We’d get into horrible fights." Said Shelley. "What were they about?" asked Gerard. "OH, everything. I swear that she liked my siblings better than she ever did me. She put a lot of responsibility on me, making me watch all of my five siblings whenever I had time. All of my free time was taken up by babysitting. And I wasn’t even being paid for it."

"That sounds really unfair." Said Gerard. "How old is your brother/ does she make you watch him all the time?" asked Shelley. "She used to, and I came home last night and she flipped out. Now the neighbors watch him. He’s nine, by the way, and can take care of himself. She treats him like he’s helpless. She coddles him, babies him, it’s disgusting. He’s my half brother by the way. Were not much alike." "Are you jealous of him?’ asked Shelley. "Nope. If she treated me half my age it would just make my life worse. I wouldn’t be able to do anything that I wanted."

"Do you truly think she dislikes you?" Shelley asked. "Yes. But at the same time she feels guilty because she’s never home or around to spend time with me and my brother." Gerard finished his stew and wiped his mouth with a napkin. " What does she do for a living?" Shelley asked. "She works as a high school teachers. She’s head of the science department. She has a lot of responsibilities. She met Luke’s father at the school she works at. Grover’s High. I hate Luke’s father because he is rude and he is never around for Luke, like my mother and I have always been." A piece of hair fell into Gerard’s face and he tucked it back behind his ear.

"So your mother took care of the both of you single handedly?" asked Shelley. Gerard shook his head. "No, Iv’e always taken care of myself, and when I was ten I started taking care of Luke." "And his father never comes by?" Shelley asked. "No. Only once in a blue moon. He hates me." Shelley could sense the angst in Gerard’s voice. Shelley cleared the table. After a moment’s silence, she asked "What about your father?"

"My father died two months before I was born. I don’t really know anything about him. My mother gave all of his stuff to his family long ago. She never really said anything much about him. Especially after Luke was born." Gerard sighed and leaned back in his chair. " Did she love him?" asked Shelley drying the dishes and putting them in the cabinet above her head. "I guess," said Gerard shrugging, "She married him and all."

Gerard saw his friend Edison the next day in English class. He sat down next to him. Edison greeted him. He looked the same as he always did, long sleeved striped shirt and plain black khakis. He wore loafers and those Woody Allen glasses that he was never seen without. He was also the only African American Gerard knew of that spoke with an off-Spanish accent. Technically, he was the only African American in the school. As soon as Gerard sat down, Edison took a calculator out of his backpack.

IT was the latest, most comprehensive, scientific calculator. "I got this from my Aunt who lives in New York. Actually, she gave me two because it was a buy one get one free sale. I’d never be able to afford even one on my own." He said stroking the calculator. "Um…" Gerard began. "The other one is for you, since you REALLY need help with math." Said Edison taking another calculator out and handing it too Gerard.

"Thanks. These things are really cool." Said Gerard half heartedly as he looked at the calculator in his hand. There was no way in hell that Edison could have afforded one of these. His family struggled with money constantly. Maybe that was why Edison dressed so geeky. Class began, Gerard put away his calculator, and took out his notebook.

He stood there alone after school. He stood there with no one around. No one in the art studio, no one on the track, no one on the football field, no one in the library. Nobody watching him. He liked it that way. No one to criticize him or to bother him. He ran his hand through his long jet-black hair. What he wished he could do was leave forever and never come back.

He didn’t want to have to deal with almost every single person in school hating him. He leaned against the wire fence that surrounded the football field. What was the point of even having a football team at all if they never won? Not that he really cared. It just seemed stupid. The only sport that he liked was croquet, and anyway, that wasn’t a real sport.

Gerard stood there in the chilly fall air staring listlessly across the football field. People had dumped trash there, paper cups and newspapers strewn around everywhere. Out of the cornor of his eye, he saw a football lying there amongst a large pile of rubbish. He went over to it and picked it up. He kicked the football as hard as he could, sending it flying to the other side of the field. That was exactly what he wished he could do to everyone who made fun of him. He watched it hit the ground.

Gerard felt someone staring at him, and he turned around, coming face to face with an angry looking football player. "Listen you weasel," he said to Gerard, "That was my football. You have no right to touch what isn’t yours. Go over and get it for me now!"

Gerard glared back and clenched his fists. "I didn’t know it was your football. Go over and get it yourself. I’m not your servant." He snapped. The football player punched Gerard’s arm. "When I tell you to do something, you better do it!"

In response, Gerard sat down on the field and looked up at the football player. He crossed his arms defiantly. His opponent kicked him and told him and told him to get up and get his football. He kept on kicking him in the shin and the stomach. Gerard stood, or rather, "sat" his ground. He didn’t whether he was right or wrong in not getting the guy’s football, but he refused to give in to this jerk.

Out of nowhere, the football coach came running up . "What are you doing, Thomas?" he asked the football player. Thomas looked surprised for a moment and then grimaced again. "Gerard took my ball and kicked it to the other side of the field." Gerard was surprised that Thomas knew his name, and wanted to know how he learned it. "How do you know my name?" he asked. "Everyone knows who you are." Said Thomas smirking nastily. THe pot bellied coach looked at Gerard. Did you take his football and kick it?" he asked. ‘I kicked it because I didn’t know it was his. It was just lying over there in the trash." Said Gerard. "The only thing that’s lying is you." Snarled Thomas.

The coach believed Gerard. He seemed to know that Thomas was a jerk. "Gerard, go on home. Thomas, go get your football." Said the coach. Thomas gave Gerard the nastiest look possible and then went off to get his football. If that really was his football anyway, thought Gerard.

On Friday, when his mother was working late again, Gerard went back to see Shelley. He found her sitting on the front steps of her house petting Miffy. Shelley looked tired. Elderly people always did, thought Gerard. Shelley’s red hair was tied back in a bun. She looked very serious and was wearing a straw hat and a black dress. She was also slouching a bit.

When Miffy saw Gerard, she ran up to him and started mewing. "Oh hello Gerard." Said Shelley in a slighty off beat sort of voice. "Hello Shelley. And Miffy." He said picking up the kitten. She nuzzled up to him, covering him with fur. "Today has been such a lazy day." Said Shelley yawning. She looked up at the dark sky and the threatening storm clouds overhead. "This weather makes me so tired." "But it’s always like this. I would think that you’d be used to it by now. Personally, I love this weather. I love thunderstorms too." Said Gerard.

They both stared up into he sky, until they felt the first rain drops. Inside the house, Shelley had cookies in the oven. The smell resonated and warmed the drafty house. As Gerard opened the screen door and went inside, he tripped over a cat. It hissed and scratched him. His cut bled quite a bit. Gerard staggered into the kitchen, carrying his backpack.

Shelley was poking the cookies with a fork, her straw hat still on. Gerard had forgotten to take off his shoes, so he rushed back into the hall and did so. When he came back, Shelley looked up from what she was doing and eyes Gerard’s leg. "Oh. Racal got you?" she asked. "Yes. And he is very mean." Said Gerard fake pouting. He went over and sat down at the table. Shelley put the cookies on a plate and then disappeared down the hallway. When she came back she was holding anti-bacterial cream and bandages. She sat down next to Gerard and gently lifted up his pant leg. The cut was long and jagged, but the bleeding had pretty much stopped. Shelley wiped the blood away with a napkin. Next she applied ointment to the wound and bandaged it. She was very gentle and the ointment didn’t even sting.


He watched her calmly, almost out of the corner of his eye so not to appear as if he were staring. "There you go." She said throwing away the bloody napkin. "Thanks. " he said quietly. He just stared at her.

One particularly gray afternoon, Gerard, Miffy, and Shelley were all sitting out in the garden, or at least, what it used to be. It was all covered in leaves. Miffy sniffed around and played with a ball of yarn. Shelley knitted what looked like a very ugly green sweater. Gerard sat there, letting the breeze through his hair.

He stared calmly out into the forest and inhaled the fresh air. It smelled like rain in the woods, which made perfect sense, considering where they were. He glanced at Shelley now and then, to see if she had stopped knitting that ridiculous looking sweater. Finally, after a while longer, he couldn’t stand the silence or the progression of the sweater. "Say something."

"Like what?" she asked without looking up. "I don’t know. Tell me who the sweater is for. Just something." He pushed his hair out of his face. "The sweater is for you." She answered. "I’m not wearing that. I’ll be the laughing stock of the entire school. I mean, even more than I am now." He answered. "Why is their opinion so important to you?"

"Because they already think I’m a big loser. I don’t want them to think I’m an even BIGGER loser." He said emphasizing the word loser. "I can’t believe that wearing a green sweater should have that much power over their opinion of you." She said firmly. "That is a lime green sweater and this is high school and people are jerks." Said Gerard.

"What if you only wore it when you are over here?" asked Shelley. Gerard thought for a moment. It seemed harmless. He nodded slowly. "Alright then, we have an agreement." Said Shelley.

Soon after, Gerard left, walking slowly back through the woods. It was almost dark, and the trees hovered over him sinisterly. He glared back at them and walked faster. He stepped on a broken bottle and a twig. He almost tripped over a log and jumped back when he heard an owl hoot.

"Oh, shut up." He snapped at it. The owl looked rather offended and Gerard apologized stammering. A gust of wind blew in his face sending his hair in odd directions and chilling him. Walking through the eerie forest made him even more lonely and he crossed his arms and pressed them to his body in a lame attempt to warm himself.

As the darkness folded around him like a black veil he whispered to no one in particular. "I am a lame attempt."

Current mood: calm

2:20PM - upset

I am very upset with this world.
I feel alot of pain because everyone is drivin by money.
people spend 8 hours a day or more making money
barely getting to see their families
This makes me upset.
I don't want to be like that.
I found the man of my dreams and i want to spend every second of my life with him.
I don't want to spend it in a job making money for what????? materialism and f***ing capitalism?

I don't care what my mom thinks.
I don't care she thinks its wrong.
what this country is doing is wrong.

Current mood: sad