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Description
Since my last novel was such a success, I decided to write another one. I live on not-this-planet, floating in a tin can far above the world. I am very famous and very rich. My name is Buddy. Nothing in this story exists in real life except for Dev Catastrophe, Panda, myself, and Hana Dietrich. I invented My Chemical Romance, Mindless Self Indulgence, Twitter, Gerard Way, sound systems, religion, disease, death, and cupcakes. I invented everything. I own the rights. I invented invention. If I didn't exist, all there would be was nothing. I didn't invent nothing. Dev Catastrophe and Panda invented nothing. Then nothing invented Hana Dietrich. Hana Dietrich doesn't exist. Neither do you.
I don't want to write an email to my english teacher. I want to figure out my computer programs. I think the walls should be turquoise. I used to have an obsession with yellow rooms. I also had an obsession with literary devices. I invented literary devices. The yellow room was a motif. A motif for being trapped. I can never stick with a story long enough to finish it. I always repetitively hit the save button, it's become a habit. I just did it again. Once I did it twice in a row and then realized I had done it twice in a row and it made me laugh. One time I lost the whole document even after I had hit the save button every five seconds. I just hit the save button. Great, now I keep thinking about hitting the save button. I just hit the save button. I just did it again. I hate mayonnaise. It's nasty. Eggs and lime juice should never be mixed. I don't understand why people like mayonnaise. I also don't understand why people like anchovies. I've never tried them but they look nasty. I also heard from other people that they actually are nasty. Sometimes things look nasty but actually turn out to be really good when you try them. Anchovies are not one of those things. The subway is nasty. Yesterday I saw this really sweaty guy wipe his sweaty forehead with a tissue and then hold onto the pole with the nasty sweaty tissue touching the pole. It was nasty. I just hit the save button. I am going to check twitter. I'm tired. I woke up an hour early. I woke up at 5. I couldn't fall back to sleep, so I made a weird universe in which logic is not allowed. Gerard ended up in my unlogical universe. There is no twitter there. It doesn't even have a name. Lyn-Z ended up there too, which doesn't make sense. But in my unlogical universe it makes perfect sense. It makes sense that there is a turquoise blob named Zamboni and it makes sense that there is a door in the sky. It also makes sense that octopi levitate and the whole thing exists on a line that changes colours and ends in random places. It ended and there was water or whatever replaces water unlogically but it fucks up the mechanisms of your watch even if you have a waterproof watch because time is not allowed. Is it called "unlogical" or "illogical"? It's called illogical. But it can be called unlogical if I want it to be because nothing has to make sense. And I can be called Buddy if I want to. I have 78 names. I counted. Some of them aren't very different from each other, but some of them are. These names are all the names that I've called myself throughout my life. I'm sure I forgot a few, but it happens. Everyone forgot about Hana Dietrich. Maybe if I feel like it I will write a song. I have written so many songs but I only like a few of them. I am very fickle to my ideas. This whole world was just a failed experiment. I like my unlogical world better. Logic sucks. I'm hungry and cold and tired in the logical world. My watch works and I have to think about numbers. I have to have one name. I cannot be an indefinite mass of a concept of an idea. I have to do things I do not want to do. The logical world and the unlogical world are at a constant war with each other. Everything is not a grid there like it is here, unless everything wants to be a grid, in which case it is. What if logic was relative and the logical world turned out to be unlogical and everything you knew was a lie? What if you could only remember your dreams and could not remember your real life? It's like amnesia flipped. Everything flipped makes a good idea. I also get a lot of ideas from dreams. Gerard is in a lot of my dreams. I do sound for his band. We are super-heroes. What if you flipped around the concept of a donut so that the negative space was where the positive space would be? In the logical world the mass could not be suspended on the inside. That is a logical paradox because it should be and it shouldn't be at the same time. In the unlogical world both could happen, depends on what the donut wants. You don't understand what I'm trying to say. Nobody understands the donut theory except me, Dev Catastrophe, Panda, and Hana Dietrich. Is the air outside the hole of the donut the same air that is inside the hole of the donut if the outside of the donut goes all around, and if you flip the negative space with the positive space is it still the same mass that is outside? The structure wouldn't be able to support itself because of gravity. Gravity creates a paradox. Oh man, I just hella confused myself. I hit the save button again. I should make a computer font with my super-cool handwriting because it is super-cool. How do you make a font? You don't exist. I don't believe in you. I like to repeat myself. I like to repeat myself. I like to repeat myself. I like to repeat myself.
In the lab at school which is not painted turquoise, the science experiments smell like dead people. Lexi Finch does experiments too, but they do not smell like dead people. Usually they do not smell at all. Lexi Finch is Buddy but she doesn't know it yet. Actually she just forgot it. Lexi Finch is talking in the third person. Lexi Finch would never make it through medical school, even though she unlogically saved Gerard's life more than once with her experiments that do not smell like dead people. Lexi Finch does sound for Gerard's band sometimes. Lexi Finch created the Interplanetary Institute and she lives in the distant future which could also be the distant past because history tends to repeat itself just like I repeat myself, only over a larger scale of time. Time? What is time? Time is relative, and it will only make sense for a little while longer before we have to totally change the way we measure it. I am not quite sure why, but I do know that in an unlogical universe this wouldn't matter because telling time is against the law. Lexington Lovelace is against the law because I said so, and also because she thinks she invented everything when everyone and everything and nothing knows it was me, Buddy, who invented everything. Lexi Finch agrees, and Gerard is confused. In theory. There is no way of knowing for sure, unless I was telepathic, which I am in the unlogical world. So what's with the "in theory" business? I don't know. Ask Hana Dietrich.
I really hope that gigantic pink balloon Izzy has will not pop. A lot of people I know that are named Izzy are hot. If they see this it will be awkward. A lot of people in my school are wearing overalls today. Actually, I only saw two. But that's a lot because it's more than I usually see.
It is sunny outside. There has to be a sun to make light and heat in the logical world but in the unlogical world it can be light and warm whenever you want it to be. Therefore that world is cooler. No pun intended. I know that you are probably getting tired of reading about the unlogical world over and over, but that's why I keep writing about it, because I know it annoys you. Sometimes I like to be annoying. In theory. In theory this is annoying the hell out of you and you want to hide it behind your couch pillows like a Furby that won't shut up. If I spelled Furby right that is. Joanie is afraid of Furbies. I was too annoyed by them to be afraid of them. I had two, and I have to admit they were kinda scary when their batteries would start to run out and their voices would get all low and then high. One time a Furby was in the kitchen and it woke up and scared my mom at night when she went to get a drink of water. In theory, a Furby is a great cheap burglar alarm. I think I should write a blog about Furbies. A long, rambling blog about Furbies. Nobody likes Furbies. They're creepy and annoying. Like Robert. I might start calling him Furby from now on, and he will not know why, and that will be funny. Uh oh, he might be turned on by it though. He likes it when I tell him to fuck off, and he likes it when I use reverse psychology and tell him to stay. I just can't win with Robert. The unlogical world denies Robert's existence because he is creepy and annoying. People are hypocrites and everyone is very conceited. I hate how some people try to recycle and be good to the Earth, not because they actually care about the environment, but because it's trendy and makes them look good. You could argue that at least they're recycling, and I agree with you that that is a good thing, but I hate people that are fakes. I prefer an honest person that honestly states, "I don't care about the environment", than a person who joins groups on Facebook about environmental issues and wears recycled clothing made from toothbrushes or whatever, but doesn't actually give a flying fuck about the environment. I agree with you and I also disagree with you, and since this is the unlogical world, that is completely okay. Ha, I did it again. You're pissed at me. I just hit the save button, also. I just did it again. This last paragraph had a little bit of relevance to my history class, which is a good thing, in theory. Theory is theoretical, in theory. If you pour liquid on my grandparents' table cloth, it doesn't soak in, but instead makes a little bubble of liquid that rolls around if you move the table cloth or blow on it. Me and my cousins named them Swimmies. Making Swimmies was very exciting because the parents kept getting mad at us for giggling about stupid stuff. Wait, how did I start thinking about Swimmies anyway? That was random. Anyway, I have to write a synopsis of I don't know what, and also Robert keeps offering me candy, which is kind of creepy, but it's still candy, so I'll eat it. It's 11:51 here, and it's 8:54 for Gerard, and it's any time you want it to be in the unlogical world. Wait, what? Why did I say it's 8:54 for Gerard? It's 8:53! It was 8:51 when I wrote that. It will be 8:54 in a minute, and then that sentence will be correct. Now it's 8:54. Time is silly.
To be honest, I don't care about my homework, and I'm not gonna pretend I do care about my homework just to look good. Actually, I only do it to make my mom shut up. I guess I lied about the fact that I don't care about homework completely, which means that when I said everything in this story was completely true, that was also a lie, and I never even said that. There are 2,062 words in this document. Now there are 2,073. There were 1,675 words in the pointless document I wrote yesterday. I could say something about the unlogical world right now but I won't. Wait, where did all of my friends go? It's a nice day and nobody should be in the cafeteria. The cafeteria is nasty too, but not as nasty as the subway. It smells like urine and pot in here, but that's quite alright because I invented urine and pot. Goddamn, I smell goddamn Lunchables again but only in theory! I'm tired of writing this. Please make it stop! Make it fucking stop! What is this bullshit, get it off! I pressed the save button again. I am trapped in a world of unlogical blasphemy! Hey wait, I can just unstuck myself, because it is unlogical! I am not making sense! Woohoo!

Description
Since my last novel was such a success, I decided to write another one. I live on not-this-planet, floating in a tin can far above the world. I am very famous and very rich. My name is Buddy. Nothing in this story exists in real life except for Dev Catastrophe, Panda, myself, and Hana Dietrich. I invented My Chemical Romance, Mindless Self Indulgence, Twitter, Gerard Way, sound systems, religion, disease, death, and cupcakes. I invented everything. I own the rights. I invented invention. If I didn't exist, all there would be was nothing. I didn't invent nothing. Dev Catastrophe and Panda invented nothing. Then nothing invented Hana Dietrich. Hana Dietrich doesn't exist. Neither do you.
I don't want to write an email to my english teacher. I want to figure out my computer programs. I think the walls should be turquoise. I used to have an obsession with yellow rooms. I also had an obsession with literary devices. I invented literary devices. The yellow room was a motif. A motif for being trapped. I can never stick with a story long enough to finish it. I always repetitively hit the save button, it's become a habit. I just did it again. Once I did it twice in a row and then realized I had done it twice in a row and it made me laugh. One time I lost the whole document even after I had hit the save button every five seconds. I just hit the save button. Great, now I keep thinking about hitting the save button. I just hit the save button. I just did it again. I hate mayonnaise. It's nasty. Eggs and lime juice should never be mixed. I don't understand why people like mayonnaise. I also don't understand why people like anchovies. I've never tried them but they look nasty. I also heard from other people that they actually are nasty. Sometimes things look nasty but actually turn out to be really good when you try them. Anchovies are not one of those things. The subway is nasty. Yesterday I saw this really sweaty guy wipe his sweaty forehead with a tissue and then hold onto the pole with the nasty sweaty tissue touching the pole. It was nasty. I just hit the save button. I am going to check twitter. I'm tired. I woke up an hour early. I woke up at 5. I couldn't fall back to sleep, so I made a weird universe in which logic is not allowed. Gerard ended up in my unlogical universe. There is no twitter there. It doesn't even have a name. Lyn-Z ended up there too, which doesn't make sense. But in my unlogical universe it makes perfect sense. It makes sense that there is a turquoise blob named Zamboni and it makes sense that there is a door in the sky. It also makes sense that octopi levitate and the whole thing exists on a line that changes colours and ends in random places. It ended and there was water or whatever replaces water unlogically but it fucks up the mechanisms of your watch even if you have a waterproof watch because time is not allowed. Is it called "unlogical" or "illogical"? It's called illogical. But it can be called unlogical if I want it to be because nothing has to make sense. And I can be called Buddy if I want to. I have 78 names. I counted. Some of them aren't very different from each other, but some of them are. These names are all the names that I've called myself throughout my life. I'm sure I forgot a few, but it happens. Everyone forgot about Hana Dietrich. Maybe if I feel like it I will write a song. I have written so many songs but I only like a few of them. I am very fickle to my ideas. This whole world was just a failed experiment. I like my unlogical world better. Logic sucks. I'm hungry and cold and tired in the logical world. My watch works and I have to think about numbers. I have to have one name. I cannot be an indefinite mass of a concept of an idea. I have to do things I do not want to do. The logical world and the unlogical world are at a constant war with each other. Everything is not a grid there like it is here, unless everything wants to be a grid, in which case it is. What if logic was relative and the logical world turned out to be unlogical and everything you knew was a lie? What if you could only remember your dreams and could not remember your real life? It's like amnesia flipped. Everything flipped makes a good idea. I also get a lot of ideas from dreams. Gerard is in a lot of my dreams. I do sound for his band. We are super-heroes. What if you flipped around the concept of a donut so that the negative space was where the positive space would be? In the logical world the mass could not be suspended on the inside. That is a logical paradox because it should be and it shouldn't be at the same time. In the unlogical world both could happen, depends on what the donut wants. You don't understand what I'm trying to say. Nobody understands the donut theory except me, Dev Catastrophe, Panda, and Hana Dietrich. Is the air outside the hole of the donut the same air that is inside the hole of the donut if the outside of the donut goes all around, and if you flip the negative space with the positive space is it still the same mass that is outside? The structure wouldn't be able to support itself because of gravity. Gravity creates a paradox. Oh man, I just hella confused myself. I hit the save button again. I should make a computer font with my super-cool handwriting because it is super-cool. How do you make a font? You don't exist. I don't believe in you. I like to repeat myself. I like to repeat myself. I like to repeat myself. I like to repeat myself.
In the lab at school which is not painted turquoise, the science experiments smell like dead people. Lexi Finch does experiments too, but they do not smell like dead people. Usually they do not smell at all. Lexi Finch is Buddy but she doesn't know it yet. Actually she just forgot it. Lexi Finch is talking in the third person. Lexi Finch would never make it through medical school, even though she unlogically saved Gerard's life more than once with her experiments that do not smell like dead people. Lexi Finch does sound for Gerard's band sometimes. Lexi Finch created the Interplanetary Institute and she lives in the distant future which could also be the distant past because history tends to repeat itself just like I repeat myself, only over a larger scale of time. Time? What is time? Time is relative, and it will only make sense for a little while longer before we have to totally change the way we measure it. I am not quite sure why, but I do know that in an unlogical universe this wouldn't matter because telling time is against the law. Lexington Lovelace is against the law because I said so, and also because she thinks she invented everything when everyone and everything and nothing knows it was me, Buddy, who invented everything. Lexi Finch agrees, and Gerard is confused. In theory. There is no way of knowing for sure, unless I was telepathic, which I am in the unlogical world. So what's with the "in theory" business? I don't know. Ask Hana Dietrich.
I really hope that gigantic pink balloon Izzy has will not pop. A lot of people I know that are named Izzy are hot. If they see this it will be awkward. A lot of people in my school are wearing overalls today. Actually, I only saw two. But that's a lot because it's more than I usually see.
It is sunny outside. There has to be a sun to make light and heat in the logical world but in the unlogical world it can be light and warm whenever you want it to be. Therefore that world is cooler. No pun intended. I know that you are probably getting tired of reading about the unlogical world over and over, but that's why I keep writing about it, because I know it annoys you. Sometimes I like to be annoying. In theory. In theory this is annoying the hell out of you and you want to hide it behind your couch pillows like a Furby that won't shut up. If I spelled Furby right that is. Joanie is afraid of Furbies. I was too annoyed by them to be afraid of them. I had two, and I have to admit they were kinda scary when their batteries would start to run out and their voices would get all low and then high. One time a Furby was in the kitchen and it woke up and scared my mom at night when she went to get a drink of water. In theory, a Furby is a great cheap burglar alarm. I think I should write a blog about Furbies. A long, rambling blog about Furbies. Nobody likes Furbies. They're creepy and annoying. Like Robert. I might start calling him Furby from now on, and he will not know why, and that will be funny. Uh oh, he might be turned on by it though. He likes it when I tell him to fuck off, and he likes it when I use reverse psychology and tell him to stay. I just can't win with Robert. The unlogical world denies Robert's existence because he is creepy and annoying. People are hypocrites and everyone is very conceited. I hate how some people try to recycle and be good to the Earth, not because they actually care about the environment, but because it's trendy and makes them look good. You could argue that at least they're recycling, and I agree with you that that is a good thing, but I hate people that are fakes. I prefer an honest person that honestly states, "I don't care about the environment", than a person who joins groups on Facebook about environmental issues and wears recycled clothing made from toothbrushes or whatever, but doesn't actually give a flying fuck about the environment. I agree with you and I also disagree with you, and since this is the unlogical world, that is completely okay. Ha, I did it again. You're pissed at me. I just hit the save button, also. I just did it again. This last paragraph had a little bit of relevance to my history class, which is a good thing, in theory. Theory is theoretical, in theory. If you pour liquid on my grandparents' table cloth, it doesn't soak in, but instead makes a little bubble of liquid that rolls around if you move the table cloth or blow on it. Me and my cousins named them Swimmies. Making Swimmies was very exciting because the parents kept getting mad at us for giggling about stupid stuff. Wait, how did I start thinking about Swimmies anyway? That was random. Anyway, I have to write a synopsis of I don't know what, and also Robert keeps offering me candy, which is kind of creepy, but it's still candy, so I'll eat it. It's 11:51 here, and it's 8:54 for Gerard, and it's any time you want it to be in the unlogical world. Wait, what? Why did I say it's 8:54 for Gerard? It's 8:53! It was 8:51 when I wrote that. It will be 8:54 in a minute, and then that sentence will be correct. Now it's 8:54. Time is silly.
To be honest, I don't care about my homework, and I'm not gonna pretend I do care about my homework just to look good. Actually, I only do it to make my mom shut up. I guess I lied about the fact that I don't care about homework completely, which means that when I said everything in this story was completely true, that was also a lie, and I never even said that. There are 2,062 words in this document. Now there are 2,073. There were 1,675 words in the pointless document I wrote yesterday. I could say something about the unlogical world right now but I won't. Wait, where did all of my friends go? It's a nice day and nobody should be in the cafeteria. The cafeteria is nasty too, but not as nasty as the subway. It smells like urine and pot in here, but that's quite alright because I invented urine and pot. Goddamn, I smell goddamn Lunchables again but only in theory! I'm tired of writing this. Please make it stop! Make it fucking stop! What is this bullshit, get it off! I pressed the save button again. I am trapped in a world of unlogical blasphemy! Hey wait, I can just unstuck myself, because it is unlogical! I am not making sense! Woohoo!