Hail Frank’s Impending Brain Apocalypse.

  I have had been reading Chantal Claret’s blogs on www.morningwoodrocks.com and she is awesome. Crazy, talented and honest. Plus she has tre cool hair. Anyway, she has inspired me to write a blog on here and I thought I’d fill you in with stuff that’s gone on during this topsy-turvy day.

  My Dad went away earlier, I have no idea why or where, probably business, for a couple of days, but I don’t think I’ll miss him because we exchange an average of two words a week.

  My mother is at my parents’ evening at school, which I refused to attend on the basis my teachers won’t say what they think of me if I am sitting right there, sneaky buggers.

  I am fracking exhausted. This is because of my self-inflicted  idiocy. I have my VERY FIRST I’MA-CRAP-MY-SKINNIES SCIENCE GCSES on Friday week (the 5th, if you care). I am trying to revise lots as I am ‘conscinecious’. Translation: I am a sucker for karma. So I’ve been making notes on the old Edexel CD-textbook thing and haven’t had much time to write, which automatically means my brain has a period. Bits of my skull collapse in on themselves, I am not making this up. I have also discovered Percy Jackson. I saw the movie last week. My brother loves the books, has for years, and I read a bit of Lightning Thief before he found me with it and yelled at me, so I kinda-sorta-pretended I knew plot of the film. By the way, the Percy actor is not twelve. He has his shirt off in the first scene. Anyway, I borrowed the first book from Maxim (gave him Fang) and got addicted. The second book is on my desk right now. I want to read it but I know if I sit in bed with it I will consider sleep a tool for mere mortals and not bother with it. This is bad.

  I am now an irritable, hungry (get hungry when I’m stressed) ‘munchkin’.

  Cannot belive it is only Wednesday, I have a karate grading on the twentieth, Duke of Edinburgh stuff to do (SPONSOR ME FOR THE RACE FOR LIFE. CLICK THE WIDGET. DONATE. I WILL WRITE YOU A HAIKU) and I’m getting depressed. I get depressed when I’m stressed to, which is why I am treating you to a crappy emo-rant.

  Was going to write my version of the ten commandments, but… Actually, what the hell. Here goes:

How to Live Your Life According to Me

  • If there’s no faith, there’s no point.
  • There is always faith, no matter what it is in (and whether or not it is good or bad). So, even if you’re a genocidal madman who is being manhunted by the CIA and you think you want to hang yourself, there is always hope, even if it is in your beard or your nuclear weapons of mass destruction. You’ve shaved or had your nukes stolen? See number one, you may as well find a skipping rope and some rafters.
  • Karma is very real. So:
  • Bad things happen to bad people. However,
  • The only person who can make you feel guilty is yourself. If you do something that you know in your heart is wrong (at least according to your morals) you will suffer in life and death. Basically, you set your own standards. Same goes with being ‘good’.
  • People go where they want to when they die, and death will come in whatever form you want it to. Grim Reaper, Pearly Gates, The Black Parade, etc.

  That is my list of Honest Truths (written in RS, of course) and I am glad I posted them because I am sure they will be different when I am twenty or eighty or married or in prison or whatever and I need a record. Will forget to transcript into my diary…

  By the way, I heard a rumour that people read this. It makes me feel loved the way a prostitute wants to feel loved, so please comment, even if it’s to tell me that you won’t donate to my Race for Life/Duke of Ed. cause because I am a rude muthafrackin’ little toss pot who needs a slap in the goddamn face.

  Told you I was tired. When I regain full conscienceless I will regret ever logging on here.

Please Tell Me It’s the Firebell

  Monday marks the start of the second half of my legal time at high school. Sadly, I know I am doing sixth form so the glitz has worn off slightly, but I feel that the time has come to review my school life *gulp*

  So, what have I done so far in years Seven, Eight and half of Nine?

  1) Uhh… Homework. Yeah, I do my homework. That gets me points, I think.

  2) I have friends. Seriously, I am not making this up. One of them bummed round my house today. They call me Frank. It is very nice.

  3) I can’t think of another one.

  What would I like to do in the next two-and-a-half-years?

  Let’s see, make some cash. Cash is good, cash buys me ink and paper, CDs and orange nail varnish.

  MUSIC. Tune my violin, play my violin, learn to change my guitar strings without shredding my fingers. It’s a skill for life, you know.

  Pass my GCSEs. On a whim.

  See MCR in concert. But you already knew that.

  Now, kids, go and give some money to Haiti and some more money to Sport Relief (a guy dressed up as Cheryl Cole and I am not afraid to say he was pretty hot). Then give any money you have left to www.etsy.com and give money to whoever sells your favourite skirt. Even if you are a guy, you will want to purchase a tartan skirt.

  That is a fact.

  I think I will also laugh some more at Jimmy Urine’s hair and JLS’ baggy jeans. They are the shaved head to Pete Wentz’s emo fringe. Of course, Pete shaved his head onstage – to be honest I can’t see Marvin and Ortisé getting on a pair of skinnies during One Shot.

Oh, Ma God.

 

I am worried. Really worried. About a person other than myself; which is unusual. I am worried about this man:

  

  Mr. Gerard Way is my most favourite famous person ever, followed closely by his brother Mikey and the rest of My Chem. You don’t want to know why, but I’m going to tell you anyway.

  You know how everyone, at some time in their life, hears someone say something that just clicks, and makes perfect sense? For me it wasn’t , say, Britney Spears or a Bon Jovi lyric, it was Gerard saying that he didn’t get song lyrics from personal experience (clearly, Helena slipped his mind), but from people watching. And eleven-year-old me thought ‘Thank God it’s not just me who does that’. I got into My Chem, tra la la, and ever since I have hung on to his every word and laughed, although I was sad, when he smoked cigarettes.

  I was on the MCR website half an hour ago and I read A Message from Frank. Gee has a bad throat. Which Ellen has, LiZzi had and is not a bad thing. Unless you are the frontman of a touring band whose lyrics have literally saved people’s lives. I wouldn’t even be too upset, except Frank mentioned  ‘the best treatment possible’. HAS GEE SMOKED ONE FAG TOO MANY AND DEVELOPED THROAT CANCER??? I AM PREPARED FOR HIM TO DIE OF TOBACCO POISONING BUT NOT WHEN HE IS THIRTY-TWO AND I AM FOURTEEN. I STILL NEED HIM TO SAY SMART THINGS AND MAKE ME FEEL BETTER BECAUSE I HATE PEOPLE AND NEED TO KNOW  THAT THEM HATING ME IS OKAY. HE NEEDS TO SEE HIS DAUGHTER BECOME THE AWESOME PERSON SHE WILL BE AND MAKE SURE THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY RUNS FOR SEVERAL YEARS.

  So please, you know, don’t die, Gerard. If you can witness 9/11 and not get crushed by a stray falling brick, you can survive a sore throat. I hear Lockets are excellent. There are thousands of kids relying on you and your band so don’t be not okay. Get, as you like to say, the fuck up. Oh, and thank you. I am watching Music and Lyrics and I saw Life on the Murder Scene on a shelf in the background. Dallas made me laugh. I bonded with my friends over your Alistair Darling haircut. You gotta help finish the new album so we can laugh at your ‘dancing’.