Comments on frankieroishot's Journal

i adored writing this story.
it was the most daring thing i've done yet, as it was both - in my opinion - my most comical and depressing work to date.
i made a bold turn by putting all of that lust & loss into one story, and i don't know if it worked well or not.
i guess i'll find out when i get comments back on this post.

anywhore, TCBUCDTP had a purpose.
if you love and/or cae for someone, whether it's a friend, relative or crush, tell them. even if you see this person daily, let them know just how much they mean to you.
you never know when your last day or their last day on this earth's gonna be, so make the most of it.
don't waste time being paranoid, insecure & all "but what if he doesn't feel the same and embarass myself?".
if you don't speak up, you'll never know. you could lose something amazing before it's even started.
look for the good in people, & scrap the bad. there's no need to search for people's faults, because you know they'll have them. no one on this planet is perfect - not even frank iero :O [xD].

this brings me to my next point.
"popularity" is a dangerous thing. i was the kind of person who never wanted to be popular in school, or absorb all the limelight. i wanted to keep to myself, so i started to write stories.
only they then became popular.
it's amazing to look at my friends list on my profile, seeing all of the people that have added me or picked my creations. that's why being "popular" on a website is pretty fucking amazing.
however, because people enjoy my writing so much, "certain" users have begun to delivberately search for my faults - both in writing, my personality, my friends, & the way i fucking type.
the last four or so weeks have been tough on my cbox.
URL-less, chicken-shit pussies have started to leave spiteful, rude messages, slating how i ocassionally string words out, such as "youuuu", and how i sometimes writes words all in one, ie, "thankyou".
what-the-fuck?
& if it's not that, it's a tiny word i've made a typo with, or something with no relation to the outcome of the story - such as a plan flight duration.
I'M SIXTEEN - I'M NOT STEPHENIE MEYER.
I'M NOT A PROFESSIONAL WRITER - I'M JUST NOT COMPLETELY SHIT, IS ALL.
& now it's flooded to my friends' cboxes!
people think that gena, rach, cassie & i are a clique or something, and you have to be good at writing to get in it.
it is possible that people can just be friends, you know.
gena thinks all of this shit is because people are jealous of the fact that i have a load of lovely readers, and that i write pretty okay.
it could be, i don't know - but it throws the last three years of confidence building i've done for myself pretty off course.

BLEH, goddamnit.

this next part is about my next story.
IT IS NOT CALLED "WHEN THE HEART GUIDES THE HAND" ANYMORE!
i have changed it to "CHOKE THE AIR FROM YOUR WORLD."
why? because i used to be really into "heart-shaped glasses [when the heart guides the hand]" by marilyn manson, therefore giving me th title for the story.
however, when i heard an interview that MM did, teasing frank because he's short, i decided i wanted a change.
this means all of the banners people made me are non-existant.
that's the only regret i have for chnging the same, and i am truly, deeply sorry. they were all amazing banners, and i'm sorry that you spent your time making them so that they could go wasted >.<
yeah, so i'll start writing "choke the air from your world [CTAFYW]" soon.
it's going to have a lot of elements in it that remind you of my other stories. it will be set in the present day, so MCR-do-not-exist-as-a-band. i just wanted to have myspace and all the bands i like now in the story, as to make it easier and more realistic for me to write about.
frank's also going to be different in it, too.
i've had him as an arrogant jerk, complete perfection, a hero/life-saver, and a childhood sweetheart.
now it's time for something different =D

that about finishes what i had to say.
oh, except for one more thing.

IF YOU CAN'T BE A PLAYER, DON'T BE A PLAYER HATER.

adiosss.
exoh.