The walk-away.

This is going to be tough.

Well, usually, I would talk about life as I know it on this blog and so and so, but my collection of drafts is just multiplying in size, and I'm going nowhere with it. I'm hopeless about it.

And I think I know why. I haven't made much change about my life since the beginning of this blog. I don't intend to change my life entirely because at its present state it's very good.

But it could be better.

And thus, I say this.

And don't be hesitant to wonder why a screenshot of My Chemical Romance (bless Google and its staggering amount of information) is overhead of this long, long post. I'll tell you why in a second.

Rewind to about three or four years ago.

It was a time in fifth grade, a time when life was good, I had everything going so well, I loved my classmates, my batchmates too. I loved my comics as well, I loved my Captain Underpants books, I had everything ideal in a prepubescent adolescent. I even took acting lessons and joined the school play. My grades were terrific also.

But well, I broke my foot.

And yes, the mention of me breaking my foot is most essential, because in this period when I was hobbling the TLT campus with a cast choking my left foot to health, my world changed drastically.

Everyone around school was talking about My Chemical Romance, or MCR, as I knew it. It was all, "MCR is so awesome!" and, "We'll carry on!" and, "Has anyone watched the MCR video, 'Welcome To The Black Parade?'" And this I remember, because these were the things to talk about during art class.

Well, I had absolutely no idea who Gerard Way was (the guy situated at the rightmost side of the photograph above), and descriptions of him involved raven hair... and ruby lips, sparks fly from his fingertips.

He was not the male embodiment of the song Witchy Woman, though.

But from the descriptions my friends had of him, I couldn't exactly picture his face. And while watching TV one day, I came across this commercial of the Grammy Awards and the camera focused on this guy with similar features as described of Gerard Way. And I found him very good-looking, too.

And so, to be cool, I started to say I had a crush on Gerard Way, word went around my little group of friends and then exploded all over school, and then in that branching out of information, I really started to like him. And then loved him. And then was obsessed with him. And then liked My Chemical Romance. And then loved My Chemical Romance.

And then was obsessed with My Chemical Romance.

But I also started to drift away a little bit in all this.

My comics didn't have the genuine humor they had before. Instead of random people showing up for comedic relief, My Chemical Romance started becoming characters and dominating the pages.

The emo trend is also the blame for me drifting away bit by bit, even if I said I wasn't like that at all.

It was fun portraying MCR via chat with Mint, as we would have random adventures with the bandmates (who somehow ended up to be our imaginary husbands) and fought the mysteriosos of the world with imaginary vampire hamsters and imaginary Skittles families. Good times, good times.

It was all fun, it was a blast, but then somehow their influence took a massive toll onto me.

Was it something in them that caused me to develop the acid tongue? Or to lie? Or to even wish for someone to die? I had all these feelings of hatred toward so many people, it even affected my friends and after all that, I was all alone.

All alone, and depressed to the bone.

It occurred to me in that period of sudden loneliness that I was growing up. And I would have to be more responsible of myself, and that whatever I let influence me now will either crush or boost my future. Whatever will affect my ambition will either drive me to do bad or to do good.

But that loneliness wasn't all so bad. I created my very own best friend, Bob the Crocodile. And I loved making comics of him, and I still plot ideas for Bob the Crocodile comics everyday.

He was my little source of strength. There was something in making Bob the Crocodile comics that made me happy all the time and look forward to the good things about life, like friendship and happiness and coffee and foolishness and jokes and laughter and optimism.

And for the first time in a long time, I was genuinely happy.

Living that happy road gave me so many things. I got to reconcile with my friends again, enjoy the greatness of Star Trek, dub Seinfeld as the greatest show ever made, decided comics and art will forever have a big spot in my heart, loved James Jean and appreciated him more than ever before, and grew a sudden love for Audrey Hepburn and the vintage era.

But most importantly, I learned how to think.

Meaning, I learned how to look at things with purpose and look at things as if they were meant to be that way, and no other alternate universe could create a better way.

I also started to realize My Chemical Romance is responsible for many of the things I could appreciate now.

For example, I loved comics before, but then Gerard Way suddenly pushed this love for comics over the envelope and ripped it open.

And My Chemical Romance also introduced me to the great works of James Jean--after all, the first of his artwork I've ever seen was on The Black Parade CD case.

In the I'm Not Okay music video of MCR, at the beginning, Ray Toro (photo: guy on the left of Gerard with the lovely brown and flowing hair) mentions that Gerard likes Audrey Hepburn. (Well in that sense, he didn't actually drive me to instantly love Miss Hepburn, but that was the first time I've ever heard of her.)

They've really let me grow up in both a terrible way and a wonderful way.

I don't think of them that much anymore, though. I used to think I couldn't live without them, but the world surprises you, and things in the world can slap you in the face and tell you otherwise. And then you start to listen to what they say, and you realize they're right.

I think it was Thursday when I watched the Helena music video once again. Before it used to be just a great song and a great video because it was, at that time, my favorite song of theirs.

Now with my mind all in a better formulation, I was actually scared, shocked, amazed, stupefied, and left speechless watching it. And Gerard, all his long flowing hair and mocking red eyes, I said, "This was the guy I had a crush on? An obsession? What?"

Of course I know he can be perfectly sane at any given time, but you know.

I used to think he knew everything, or he was everything. But really, he wasn't.

They weren't.

Whatever they did to me was something I can't understand anymore though. I don't remember anymore how so in love I was with their music--I just can't. I would like to feel so hyped up with liking them so much again, but I really, truly can't.

They did let me grow up, and now it's gotten to the point where I don't really need them anymore.

I do wonder how they are every now and then. I do know they have an album coming out later this year and that Frank's wife will have twins later in the summer (not Filipino summer, American summer) and I do know Gerard's Killjoys comic is coming out sometime in this year too.

I still have that hope inside of me to one day meet them. Not during a concert, not during a signing, but actually meet them. Like if they have a concert here again and I encounter them at let's say... Rustan's, I'd like to have the guts to talk to them and thank them.

I imagined the entire situation myself, actually. It's pretty funny, but I'll admit, when these sudden thoughts come to mind I instantly imagine what I could possibly say or what I would be doing if these situations came into play.

I could be running after them when I first see them. They could be at Toy Kingdom or Comic Quest or... Rustan's! I'd say, "Hey, Gerard Way! Ray Toro! Mikey! Frank! I'd like to talk to you, just a little bit, please!"

They could be skiddoodling and skiddadling the heck out of there. Or they could huddle like a football team and say to one another, "Not again..." "This chick must be one of them crazed fangirls." "Alright team, you know the drill--say hi, give her a hug one by one, pretend to be interested in what she says, you know, be nice, answer in 'yes' or 'no' with whatever question comes up, and create a diversion by mentioning Justin Bieber. Alright, roll out!"

And they could be smiling just too widely for four people to do so and say, "HI THERE. WHAT A PLEASURE IT IS TO MEET YOU."

And they could be taking out their markers or Sharpies or clicking pens, because they're musicians and that's what they're trained to do. 

After a minute of pretending to be happy to meet a fan, they finally notice I have no paper with me and say, "Seriously kid, you want an autograph or not?"

I shake my head no. And I say, "Well. This is goodbye.

"It was fun, being a big fan of yours and all, but it didn't last as long as many others would have said it should. But I would like to thank you so much, because if not for you guys, I wouldn't have grown up. I wouldn't be who I am right now, and I wouldn't have what I have right now. I would have never realized it before, but you did change my life and I'm not only saying so this time, I'm finally meaning it. I was a big fan of yours when I was twelve, but I didn't know the meaning between MCR and life at that time.

"I'm sure if my twelve year-old self saw me now, she'd be pretty angry I'm saying this to you, but I'm only hoping sooner or later she'd realize I'm right."

--

I may not be their biggest fan anymore, but someday I'd really like for them to know that they've been a part of my life growing up, which is more than any band or anyone could ask for. They've taught me a valuable part of dealing with the world, and it's a lesson I will never forget.

Well MCR. This is the end of our rainbow.