Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Fifty Shades of Way
I had always liked winter the best out of all the seasons. I loved the clear, sunny days and the contradictory coldness. I loved the silence that fell over the world, all the animals hiding from the biting wind. I loved the feeling of happiness and hope that came around Christmas time. But most of all, I loved the snow.
When Mikey and I were younger, our best times were our mother would let us go out to play in the fresh, glistening white snow. I can remember building snowmen in our tiny backyard, and Mom taking us down to the park to sled. Some days we would go down the street to Frank’s house and make snow angels. We would run inside laughing, our cheeks and nose bright red from the cold, and were greeted by mugs of Mrs. Iero’s world famous hot chocolate.
As I got bigger, I became too old for all of that, not to mention too depressive. I started staying inside, sitting by a window with a cup of hot coffee clasped in my hands instead. I would watch the snow fall in silence except maybe some Bowie playing quietly in the background.
The snow would look so pure and innocent when it first touched the ground. The pollution and grime of New Jersey would soon get to it though, interrupting its bright white with dark dirt. It reminded me of my own life, how I started out so bright-eyed and hopeful, and how the world had slowly ground me down, revealing the dirty, gritty layers I wasn’t even aware I had.
It reminded me of Mikey, the energetic, bouncy little kid of long ago. As he grew up, he shut himself down and away. He stopped smiling, laughing, talking...only I could get through to him these days, and even that was hard sometimes. The toddler who used to walk up to strangers just to say hi, who would be anybody’s best friend, who would never stop talking was gone, covered by the grime of too many hurtful words and hard shoves.
It reminded me of Frank, of the good little church going, Catholic boy he used to be, back before he discovered the truth. Before he learned the God he loved so much cared nothing for his kind, rejected him for who he couldn’t help but love. Before his rebellion of drinking, drugs, tattoos, and punk bands. Before he became so angry at everyone and everything that the only way he could feel human again was screaming his lungs out onstage. Before the eternally smiling child was buried in the dirt of false religion.
In the end, I guess, everyone is just New Jersey snow. Everyone starts out so pure and bright and innocent and hopeful and kind and loving, and everyone ends as a pile of melting muck.
A/N: I am SO sorry it has taken me so long to write anything. I have been going through a pretty tough time recently, and just couldn't write. Don't worry, I'll have a new chapter of Rebel Love Song up soon, and I've started the next chapter of Playing God.
When Mikey and I were younger, our best times were our mother would let us go out to play in the fresh, glistening white snow. I can remember building snowmen in our tiny backyard, and Mom taking us down to the park to sled. Some days we would go down the street to Frank’s house and make snow angels. We would run inside laughing, our cheeks and nose bright red from the cold, and were greeted by mugs of Mrs. Iero’s world famous hot chocolate.
As I got bigger, I became too old for all of that, not to mention too depressive. I started staying inside, sitting by a window with a cup of hot coffee clasped in my hands instead. I would watch the snow fall in silence except maybe some Bowie playing quietly in the background.
The snow would look so pure and innocent when it first touched the ground. The pollution and grime of New Jersey would soon get to it though, interrupting its bright white with dark dirt. It reminded me of my own life, how I started out so bright-eyed and hopeful, and how the world had slowly ground me down, revealing the dirty, gritty layers I wasn’t even aware I had.
It reminded me of Mikey, the energetic, bouncy little kid of long ago. As he grew up, he shut himself down and away. He stopped smiling, laughing, talking...only I could get through to him these days, and even that was hard sometimes. The toddler who used to walk up to strangers just to say hi, who would be anybody’s best friend, who would never stop talking was gone, covered by the grime of too many hurtful words and hard shoves.
It reminded me of Frank, of the good little church going, Catholic boy he used to be, back before he discovered the truth. Before he learned the God he loved so much cared nothing for his kind, rejected him for who he couldn’t help but love. Before his rebellion of drinking, drugs, tattoos, and punk bands. Before he became so angry at everyone and everything that the only way he could feel human again was screaming his lungs out onstage. Before the eternally smiling child was buried in the dirt of false religion.
In the end, I guess, everyone is just New Jersey snow. Everyone starts out so pure and bright and innocent and hopeful and kind and loving, and everyone ends as a pile of melting muck.
A/N: I am SO sorry it has taken me so long to write anything. I have been going through a pretty tough time recently, and just couldn't write. Don't worry, I'll have a new chapter of Rebel Love Song up soon, and I've started the next chapter of Playing God.
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