F.T.Willz Theory PT. 1
Made by a Brazilian page (Not mine, I'm only translating).
Original content (PORTUGUESE, BRAZIL):
Algumas pessoas já conhecem essa teoria, mas sempre vale a pena acrescentar mais sobre. Eu irei lhe mostrar as provas que encontrei durante
Some people may already know this theory, but it's always worth adding more details.
I’ll show you the evidence I found in my research and the theory I’ve developed from it. I’m not copying anyone's theory;
I’m inspired by some, but there are things here that I wrote myself. I’m saying this upfront because I know some people will try to criticize me.
F.T. Willz was a MySpace account in 2008, where someone, supposedly writing a book for Skeletor Crew (a company owned by Frank Iero), posted poems about their life and other texts.
But what makes everyone think that ‘F.T.Willz’ is Frank Iero's codename?
Who is F.T.Willz?
So, as we can see, it says there about the supposed book for the Skeleton Crew, titled 'May Those Words Set Fire to Your Soul,' approximately 20 pages long.
'May those words set your soul on fire.' Interesting, isn't it?
Okay, now things are about to get interesting.
Status: Swinger
What is a Swinger: a person who dates/sleeps with multiple people at the same time.
HA! You all know what I mean, right? Jamia… and who could the other person be that he’s sleeping with…? Remember the interview, "He sleeps naked when he sleeps with me."
Hometown: X
Yes, this is the most interesting part, and I’ll try to explain it briefly. Frank F;T;Willz didn't seem to answer this without thinking. As much as I try to ignore it, I can’t forget about his bird tattoos, on Gerard's autograph, and on the Leathermouth album. And what does the ‘X’ represent? But let’s save that for another theory.
Zodiac sign: Scorpio
Who has a scorpion tattoo on their neck and is also a Scorpio?
Occupation: FlowerPickin
Watch the video:
Gerard: It springs out of the fabric, like a flower. It looks… it just blooms out like a flower. Frank knows… he’s seen it…. I’m a man, I ain’t got no flower, you know what I’m saying? No flower… well [Frank] has seen it, and he says it looks like a flower. He’s probably right.
Gerard says that Frank has already seen his… and that it looks like a flower.
Occupation: flower gatherer. flower grabber. hhhm Ha
PantySniffin: panty sniffer – how straight of him.
Whiskeydrinkinbum: whiskey-drinking bum. – alright;
Now let’s understand MCR’s situation in 2008/2009:
After the Projekt Revolution tour in 2007, where MCR participated, they continued the tour with The Black Parade album. They even came to Brazil and everything.
The Black Parade is Dead! was recorded on October 7, 2007, and released on July 1, 2008.
This was the time when Frank had stomach issues and gained some weight.
This was also the period when things started to get tense in Gerard/Frank's relationship.
Leathermouth was created in 2007, but their first show was only in the fall of 2008, when Frank decided that whenever he had no commitments with MCR, he would be touring with Leathermouth, joining Reggie and the Full Effect's "Farewell Tour." In October 2008, they signed with Epitaph Records and released the album XØ in 2009.
It was after Gerard’s wedding on September 1, 2007.
On February 5, 2007, Frank married Jamia.
Notable similarities between Frank’s current website and F.T. Willz’s MySpace.
One thing I've always noticed when reading Frank's poems is his avoidance of capital letters; he seems to really dislike them, even in titles or names’ first letters, completely disregarding their use. Now let’s look at the "About" section of F.T. Willz above.
‘may those words set fire to your soul’ without capital letters, even though it’s a book title. I wanted to point out this detail so you can also notice it in these other poems.
The explicit similarity between the poems posted in 2008 and more recently.
February 2008 -> January 2013
Now notice something else, the post time: '1:06' A.M.
Doesn't it seem suspicious to you? Only having time to post in the middle of the night.
Both complain about technology.
Now, I will post all the poems by F.T. Willz that I found. Just a reminder, I will analyze all of them and post them throughout the theories. If you want to skip all the poems, right after that, I will talk about other evidence I found about Frank as ftwillz. -
Positive Ireforcement
I heard recently that a lady died from drinking a fanta whose top was tainted by a mixture of rat piss, sawdust, and holiday spice. What a legacy you’ve left behind mam. Death by Fanta. I’ll bet she was fucking shocked by those amazing turn of events. I mean really? Work out, eat right, and then bam! A fanta! Those things are supposed to be fucking refreshing. Somethings gotta give. Oh and by the way, irving “magic” Johnson is currently living hiv negative. What kind of god allows something like that? Fuck you Africa, you need at least 2 nba championships under your belt before I even consider giving you a miracle cure. Continue to pray for bags of rice, there’s no way any of you will ever be able to afford this cocktail. Is this the world we live in? full of poison fantas and a lakers fanatic pulling the strings? Shit if its gonna be that kind of party, Im gonna drink 40oz of liquid plummer.
-f.t.willz 08
From my head to my middle finger, i really think i like you.
I’m a little coffee pot short, stout, and burnt beyond recognition. Sour to the taste and an and, and an and, and the end.
what a dark mess of chemicals we have become.
look through my caffeinated eyes my love. i see the sun in all its ultra violet glory. it beckons me to abort my life of painstaking procrastination.
….and all i want for x-mas is to fly 2 blunts deep.
i drive for days and sleep for miles, but never a drop to drink. No Control, but not exactly a riot either. fuck me you’re such a riot.
i’ve found healing powers beyond my wildest dreams behind your lips. i am the dinosaur soaring towards extinction. So smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em kids…..cause Joe Camel needs the pocket cash. or just read ‘em and weep sweetheart cause my royal flush comes with a love note. i bleed spades, you draw horses…..
may the lord strike down our penniless heroes,
for if not we must take matters into our own hands.
everything will be new when we open our eyes for the first time.
so i’ll pick you up at 7 and we’ll have a real shitty time, but at least we’ll have a time. i’d love you to hate my guts if they weren’t already covered in ulcers…ulcers only a mother could love.
so for now peace love and misdemeanors,
cause i plan on being out of step for awhile my dear.
– F.T. Willz 08
More stuff from my cancerous brain…
“Shit’s bananas when you’re disinterested.”
Mein Kompfy sweat pants and your old sweater met their match today.
They danced through our phone conversation, and fought the whole time i ate pancakes.
The 3 of us thought of you when i bit my lip, denounced god, went blind with rage, and even when i typed this meaningless drab until 6 in the morning.
I think they’re going to be good (meaningless) friends. Not the kind that are nice to each others faces and talk shit the moment the other has left the room. More like the kind that meet by fucking the same mutual friends a week apart, cause they are young and carefree and have so much in common, not cause they are roach infested whores.
They look so happy together, great things are going to come of this, i promise.
When you come home I’ll show you. (if i can only get those hideous stains out.)
We’ll laugh til our noses bleed, and the windows shatter.
You are mine my darling, and the world, yes the world shall be ours.
-F.T. WillZ 08
12 was a good year
My head is pounding, my intestines growl…(I wish I could just go to fucking sleep)… my makeshift bedroom is quaking under me.
My dream house rattles down route number in the hundreds traveling at a speed of 65 mph through the beautiful state of starts with a consonant.
No one makes a waking sound.
A breath of fresh air, a shooting pain in my new jersey lungs (home is where half my heart is).
Brittle fucking bones, a nicotine crutch, an idiot’s wisdom, and a crooked smile.
Who the fuck is really genuine anyway? Everyone’s god is a liar. Everyone’s face is a mask.
You can take a pill to fix almost anything these days…(fuck) especially if you got the scratch. It’s a shame they can’t do more with false hope. (Shut up, shut up, just fucking shut me up.)
Hearts break, arteries clog, minds race, and all heroes will eventually fail (or just grow tired of the ungrateful people they help).
What a fucking waste… How many trees have to die for this complaint set to ink. One day when you run out of air (or shade) you’ll hate me for this. Maybe I’ll feel bad or just blow it off with a smile (crooked teeth, ugly smile), either way I’m sure we’ll both move on ramble on ramble on ramble on ramble onand onandonandoandon…
-F.T. WillZ 06
A poet, a prophet, a motherfucking puppet, a modern-day ____ (fill-in the blank), nature’s ____ (insert noun here).
Show me who you are on the inside…really? Me too. We’re so alike, where did you grow up? NO FUCKING WAY! A small town? That’s so weird; no one ever listens to me either. Wow. What a small world (exclamation point) LOL. We should be friends, what’s your number? Wanna hang out sometime? Are you on Myfriendsmakeoutspace-ster (fuckeachotherfuckeachotherfuckeachother) club? Me too. Wanna fuck? I’m just like you. Can I borrow your car? Live at your house? Eat your pets? Kill your parents? We’re so perfect together, (for each other)…opportunity is knocking do you hear it? BANGBANG. I wrote song about you, it has 25 different parts that don’t belong together. I scream and cry and there’s no melody whatsoever, you’ll love it, listen to it everyday…until all your friends like it too, then you’ll say it sucks and call me a sellout. Do you wanna get matching tattoos, have the same haircut, go steady, and just be friends so we can fuck everyone else who looks just like us, thinks like us, and feels like us too? Fuck, look at me, look at me, right here, right in my fucking eyes. Can you see it? No? Look closer then. How about now? No? Maybe it’s the atrocious lighting in here. Wait let me take a crooked picture with my hair in my face while I cut your name into my thigh. Do you see it now? You don’t see anything? Nothing at all? Are you sure? Positive? Weird, me either, small fucking world huh?
-F.T. WillZ 06
Now other proofs
Look there. It's 'FTW'.
.
Now, something I’ve never heard anyone talk about but has always crossed my mind:
The song F.T.W.W.W. from the EP The Mad Gear and Missile Kid, which I want to write a theory about within the Danger Days theory: the secrets of the ‘Killjoys,’ which I’ll post soon.
Lavendear here! Wait for part two! Xo
