Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Ok, before you read this, let me explain a few things. First of all, the title of the story is "Illiterate" because that's what I think you are gonna rate it. Before you do, though, I'm going to tell you that I can write perfectly fine. This story was written in one of my "random" modes. My friend said a great way to inspire yourself was to write a sentence, any sentence. Then write another sentence using the last word of the first sentence. And continue on 'til you strike something that could be a potential story. Well I did that, except the sentences are connected and form somewhat of a story. Now go ahead,read, rate whatever, but you gotta admit, nobody's ever done this before!
EDIT: I found two places in which I screwed up...hehe, sorry for the repost
Illiterate
Gerard has a last name, and it is Way.
Way used up most of his time speculating about somebody.
Somebody may be a vague noun, forbidden in many English classes, but he does not really care.
Care, he may not want you to, but know about this somebody, you shall..
(Shall I continue my Yoda-like talk?)
Talk, Gerard would like to.
To you?
You, he would not like to speak with.
With Frank Iero, however, he would like to.
To be doing other things with Frank, he would also like.
Like simply adding a vague “it” after the word, doing.
Doing different activities besides think about Frank was what Gerard found difficult.
Difficult for him was the task of forgetting the guy who always made him so happy.
Happy, like “somebody” and “it”, is a word marked as unclear.
Unclear to Gerard was whether the happiness he felt around the Frank had to do with the cuteness of the buttocks belonging to the very same Frank.
Frank, however, had no clue about this confusion of Gerard’s.
Gerard’s fingers drummed as he sat in his car, on his way to Jersey City during rush hour.
‘Hour’ was not a unit of time able describe how long he felt like he had been stuck there.
There, a mere gear shift away from Frank Iero.
Iero squished his face against the window, staring out into the jammed traffic.
Traffic was something he’d had enough of.
Of course, traffic was magically made better when Gerard was so close.
Close, but not as close as Frank wanted.
Wanted Gerard, Frank did.
(Did you think Yoda would really stop after this long?)
Long minutes, hours, months, years had passed since this wanting of Gerard began.
Began in 2002 and ended...well, never.
Never, though, did Frank believe that his lust for Gerard would be at its peak while the two of them rode in a car...but...
But car sex sounded strangely pleasing to him, as to many fourteen year old girls, if it was with Mr. Way.
Mr. Way remained oblivious.
Oblivious, yet talented man, he was to not notice how often Frank leaned over.
Over a period of time, he had somehow established the ignorance level of a month old baby.
Baby was a vague word as well.
Well, maybe not, but the point was...
Was Gerard Way gay?
Though many spelling-challenged teenagers will burst into tears, the answer was maybe.
Maybe the “maybe” was leaning more towards the “yes.”
Yes, all right, yes, but only for that exceptionally cute guy in the passenger seat, by the name of Frank.
Frank was why he—
He got cut off when the same person his thoughts revolved around groaned loudly, frustrated.
Frustrated as well with the interruption of his train of thought, Gerard said, “What?!”
“What do you mean, what?! I’m fucking pissed off at you!” Frank, the sailor mouth, replied.
Replied in his own oblivious way, Gerard did, meanwhile honking the horn to hopefully comfort Frank, “Me? Why? It’s not my fault we’re stuck here.”
Here is that magical moment where Frank’s unusually shining green eyes widen and he spills out his emotions with beautiful, Shakespeare-like eloquence, “You fucking idiot, I’m in love with you! The only way I could have made that clearer was if I raped you.”
You might imagine the awkwardness of the following silence.
Silence...until a clever reply was thought up in the mind of the obliviously talented Gerard.
Gerard smirked in what could be described as a sexy manner, “Well, you’re always welcome to...”
EDIT: I found two places in which I screwed up...hehe, sorry for the repost
Illiterate
Gerard has a last name, and it is Way.
Way used up most of his time speculating about somebody.
Somebody may be a vague noun, forbidden in many English classes, but he does not really care.
Care, he may not want you to, but know about this somebody, you shall..
(Shall I continue my Yoda-like talk?)
Talk, Gerard would like to.
To you?
You, he would not like to speak with.
With Frank Iero, however, he would like to.
To be doing other things with Frank, he would also like.
Like simply adding a vague “it” after the word, doing.
Doing different activities besides think about Frank was what Gerard found difficult.
Difficult for him was the task of forgetting the guy who always made him so happy.
Happy, like “somebody” and “it”, is a word marked as unclear.
Unclear to Gerard was whether the happiness he felt around the Frank had to do with the cuteness of the buttocks belonging to the very same Frank.
Frank, however, had no clue about this confusion of Gerard’s.
Gerard’s fingers drummed as he sat in his car, on his way to Jersey City during rush hour.
‘Hour’ was not a unit of time able describe how long he felt like he had been stuck there.
There, a mere gear shift away from Frank Iero.
Iero squished his face against the window, staring out into the jammed traffic.
Traffic was something he’d had enough of.
Of course, traffic was magically made better when Gerard was so close.
Close, but not as close as Frank wanted.
Wanted Gerard, Frank did.
(Did you think Yoda would really stop after this long?)
Long minutes, hours, months, years had passed since this wanting of Gerard began.
Began in 2002 and ended...well, never.
Never, though, did Frank believe that his lust for Gerard would be at its peak while the two of them rode in a car...but...
But car sex sounded strangely pleasing to him, as to many fourteen year old girls, if it was with Mr. Way.
Mr. Way remained oblivious.
Oblivious, yet talented man, he was to not notice how often Frank leaned over.
Over a period of time, he had somehow established the ignorance level of a month old baby.
Baby was a vague word as well.
Well, maybe not, but the point was...
Was Gerard Way gay?
Though many spelling-challenged teenagers will burst into tears, the answer was maybe.
Maybe the “maybe” was leaning more towards the “yes.”
Yes, all right, yes, but only for that exceptionally cute guy in the passenger seat, by the name of Frank.
Frank was why he—
He got cut off when the same person his thoughts revolved around groaned loudly, frustrated.
Frustrated as well with the interruption of his train of thought, Gerard said, “What?!”
“What do you mean, what?! I’m fucking pissed off at you!” Frank, the sailor mouth, replied.
Replied in his own oblivious way, Gerard did, meanwhile honking the horn to hopefully comfort Frank, “Me? Why? It’s not my fault we’re stuck here.”
Here is that magical moment where Frank’s unusually shining green eyes widen and he spills out his emotions with beautiful, Shakespeare-like eloquence, “You fucking idiot, I’m in love with you! The only way I could have made that clearer was if I raped you.”
You might imagine the awkwardness of the following silence.
Silence...until a clever reply was thought up in the mind of the obliviously talented Gerard.
Gerard smirked in what could be described as a sexy manner, “Well, you’re always welcome to...”
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