Just Off The Key Of Reason (Pete Wentz/Mikey Way)

5: One Day We'll Get Nostalgic For Disaster

I'm just Mikey Way and I don't know who I am. I think I'm crumbling, and I say it's Pete's fault, but really it's mine too, because I shouldn't have let myself get anywhere near so attached to one stupid guy. That has realised that I'm a stupid guy before I did.

I'm far too late for all of this, and even now the train has departed the station. I think maybe I'll sit on the tracks. I don't particularly, I just wish for the light at the end of the tunnel to just not be the headlights of another train.

I find myself being a train wreck far too often these days. It's a dreadful habit, like smoking. Gerard does an awful lot of smoking, but somehow he doesn't seem to care about the health risks. Gerard can just do that; take something between his lips like a metaphor and just go for it without the slightest care, and I read the labels, and all the safety precautions, and that makes me change my mind, but with Pete I didn't, and that's exactly where I went wrong.

So I don't know what to do know, or where I could possibly go. This feels like limbo, except I'm not actually trapped. The door isn't even locked; my door doesn't have a lock.

I don't think mum trusts me with a lock; I think it's something to do with Gerard, that she wants to see my face more frequently than on a monthly basis. I don't particularly mind the abundance of a lock though; Gerard always knocks.

It's just the fact that Pete didn't knock when he came into my life - he didn't knock at all, and in fact he barely even let the thought slip over his mind. He lured me in as he did into the comic store; Pete was the rain, the heat, everything that day. That whole day was Pete Wentz's doing, and I come now to realise that I should have never woken up.

Because I didn't want another mess; I didn't want Pete Wentz, I didn't want a catastrophe, yet he took me, and I took him, and I think somehow there's beauty in that, but there's always beauty in destruction. It's like the thorns on a cactus; it protects itself from human eradication. The beauty is what protects the destruction and keeps it alive.

Pete Wentz is a by-product of hearts beating in time, of love, of lust, and the euphoria of a good day. Pete Wentz was never intended, yet somehow he fell straight into my grasp, and somehow God never let me let go of his stupid hand, and his stupid head. And still to this day, I didn't want him, and I didn't want to need him.

I think I do now, though. And I really don't like that.

Everything had slowly become a blur within this room and I knew I'd been in there long, I just wasn't sure as to how long; minutes drifted in hours, and hours drifted into days. And soon enough, I was lost within my own bitter sadness, my longing, my depressing need for stupid fucking Pete Wentz. I think time is a matter ignored when one's mind is preoccupied with other matters entirely.

I think time is irrelevant in most cases, but not now. Time is what's ticking down to my demise, because I know it's inevitable, that by some manner I'll one day leave this room, whether it'll be soon or whether it'll be to the extreme and I'll leave on my very deathbed. That doesn't matter though, I think what matters is the awareness, the fact that you know it will happen.

Acceptance is key on the path to selflessness, because you have to accept that people are going to be better than you, and you have to take that as a fact and not a problem.

I think the problem with society are problems themselves, and no one's quite looked past face value long enough to figure out the blindingly obvious. I can understand it though; people like facades. People like them enough to live under them, live with them, live as them, and some people are facades in their entirety.

Problems are perplexing, and people do tend to underestimate their ability to define something as a problem, because labelling something as a problem is saying that something should be wrong or fixed, or possibly even eradicated. And people don't understand just how that affects everything, because labelling something as a problem is so much deeper than labelling something as a pencil, because a pencil is a physical attribute or state, whereas a problem is a matter of perspective, and people's flaws within it.