It's a bit of a spin on GothBoy. I decided to write a few journals on Jack's Daily life as opposed to the larger aspects of his Entire life, so yeah. Attempt to Enjoy! (If you happen to fail, please notify me about it so I can compensate you with free reviews to your own story in my sickeningness's stead)
Disclaimer: I don't own.
It's amazing how funny people can be.
We have our priorities; we tell ourselves that we'll set ourselves straight. We want to be honest with ourselves. We work so hard on forming our images, our personalities, defining ourselves with a place in the world.
And it's all worth its weight in shit.
Or maybe a bit less.
For example, we've all heard the question before: Who do you love the most?
That's easy: my parents.
How many of us are actually telling the truth? No, seriously. How many of us are willing to die before we see our parents get hurt? Who of us is ready to give up our livelihood and dreams for our parents? Nobody? No takers? Yeah. Exactly.
So why is that answer such the default?
Is it our obligation? What obligation? To blood? To money? To a little TLC? If they've given us so much, why are we so willing to push them aside?
Just like I did.
Just like I do.
And I'm pretty sure at least 70 percent of you do too.
Why do we keep secrets from those who we supposedly love most?
Do we really love them? Is it because we don't want to hurt them? Or are we attempting to maintain that self-image of the perfect son or daughter?
That image. That image we tried so hard to form, tried so hard to form our personalities, to define ourselves with a place in the world.
—from the Blog of Jack Spicer under the alias of i-hate-your-guts
I'm sorry if i-hate-your-guts IS actually your name on whatever server hosts your blog, but Jack's going to steal it for now. It's an evil thing, after all. Just tell me if you mind and I'll change it, or if you don't mind, I'll put it in my disclaimer.
So tell me what you think.