P.S. Don't Write.
Who Needs Drugs When You Have Cookies and Guns?
"Fireworks for the dead
It's time to put yourself to bed
In the hospital the friends you stole surround you
Did the devil sign your check
When they pulled you from the wreck
There was nothing left to recognize
About you
Let it in
Let it go
When they lift you up, there's something you must know
What you find it might astound you
The world is big enough
without you."
I finished writing the comic with an internal sigh and sat back feeling how brain dead I was now. I felt the urge for coffee circulating my moistoned tounge and got up promptly to go get it. As I orded I heard the little bell above the door ring. Turning around at just the wrong moment I was inches from running into the punk infront of me.
"Oh sorry man" He said looking up at the guy he had almost plowed into "I didn't- woah shit I like your shirt" He said smiling. Like the moron I am I look down at my shirt even though I am the one who picked it out. I saw the little Umbrella on my large black shirt and smiled. "Thankyou, I get that shit for fee. You know, contributing gets you certain privliges" I chuckled. Well that did it because his eyes grew enormous and he smiled "You helped with The Umbrella Academy? Holy fuck. I love the series. I knew the writer in highschool!" I frowned, I didn't remember this man at all."Well you're starring at him" I smiled and he exploded. "Oh my god seriously? Gerard!? Hi! I'm Frank Iero, your pen pal, do you even remember that?" I remembered all right. I still had the letters. "Yeah man. I remember. Woah, you are uhm...you're different than I expected." I said. He laughed, "You too. I never expected you to be hot, but damn you are a lot of that. Anyway, I have to gooo, but-" he said grabbing a sharpie from his back pocket and uncapping it, "call me pretty boy" he smiled devilishly writing down his number, and above that labeling it "Frank"
I quirked an eyebrow about to complain but he capped the sharpie and shoved it in my back pocket and slapped my ass, turned around and left. The only thing he left me with was his stamp on my arm, and one thing in mind, I had missed Frank more than I should have.
It's time to put yourself to bed
In the hospital the friends you stole surround you
Did the devil sign your check
When they pulled you from the wreck
There was nothing left to recognize
About you
Let it in
Let it go
When they lift you up, there's something you must know
What you find it might astound you
The world is big enough
without you."
I finished writing the comic with an internal sigh and sat back feeling how brain dead I was now. I felt the urge for coffee circulating my moistoned tounge and got up promptly to go get it. As I orded I heard the little bell above the door ring. Turning around at just the wrong moment I was inches from running into the punk infront of me.
"Oh sorry man" He said looking up at the guy he had almost plowed into "I didn't- woah shit I like your shirt" He said smiling. Like the moron I am I look down at my shirt even though I am the one who picked it out. I saw the little Umbrella on my large black shirt and smiled. "Thankyou, I get that shit for fee. You know, contributing gets you certain privliges" I chuckled. Well that did it because his eyes grew enormous and he smiled "You helped with The Umbrella Academy? Holy fuck. I love the series. I knew the writer in highschool!" I frowned, I didn't remember this man at all."Well you're starring at him" I smiled and he exploded. "Oh my god seriously? Gerard!? Hi! I'm Frank Iero, your pen pal, do you even remember that?" I remembered all right. I still had the letters. "Yeah man. I remember. Woah, you are uhm...you're different than I expected." I said. He laughed, "You too. I never expected you to be hot, but damn you are a lot of that. Anyway, I have to gooo, but-" he said grabbing a sharpie from his back pocket and uncapping it, "call me pretty boy" he smiled devilishly writing down his number, and above that labeling it "Frank"
I quirked an eyebrow about to complain but he capped the sharpie and shoved it in my back pocket and slapped my ass, turned around and left. The only thing he left me with was his stamp on my arm, and one thing in mind, I had missed Frank more than I should have.
yaaay
7/10/13