This is Shea..

[nicoℓe.]

{name:Shea#|#picture:0}

Yeah, I'd be Shea Robinson. Maybe you've heard of my dad, Spencer Robinson, the catcher for the New York Mets. That's how I came to be Shea, because the Met's home field is Shea Stadium. Wow, did I just say that to a journal? I'm betting that you have never heard of my dad. But the person that just may so happen to be snooping through this might have. Let's get two things straight. I'm not stupid enough to spill out all my deepest darkest secrets into a book that anybody could get access to, even if I hid it inside a heavily guarded safe. So if you're looking for some sort of dirt on me, you're not going to find it here. Sorry to disappoint you. Secondly, if you're just reading this for fun, I'm sorry again but you're incredibly nosy, not to mention shallow. Why would you go and pick up somebody else's diary journal and read it like some James Patterson novel? Doesn't really make much sense to me.. Now that the more serious business is out of the way, I am at liberty to disclose some information about myself to you. I'm aged 17, born and raised on the streets of New York. Well...I wasn't born on the streets, but you get my drift. There I go again, explaining myself to a book. The only exciting thing I can do is play the guitar..Oh, and I can clap with one hand. Pretty amazing, I know. Have your people call my people and see if they can get an autograph.
That's all I've got to say.
That's all there really is to say.
Oh, and I don't really have people. My dad may be rich and famous, but that's his money, his fame, not mine.
I'll make my own way in this world, thanks.
Shea