vampires, assasins and doomed (chemical) romances

So, I'm a big My Chemical Romance fan in case you couldn't tell by the... everything about me.

    Gerard Way is a fascinating human being to me, in a way that I rarely get invested in celebrites. I attribute this mostly to my method of introduction to this band. Allow me to set the scene for you;

It's summer of 2019, I've just gotten off my second to last year of high school. It was a wild year for me indeed with me finally taking steps to free myself of my marionette strings and now being thrown into a world of new potential freedoms. Now, without even a structure to my days I am confronted by a freedom I don't know what to do with.

    

    Towards the middle of the school year I was sort of reintroduced to a girl I'd known in passing for a while. She was... so pretty. So very pretty, but I was a gay little idiot who didn't quite understand how to recognize attraction let alone act upon it.

We grew closer and closer yet in a short yet infinite space of time with her living just next street over from our school it allowed for a shelter of sorts when shit hit the fan with my father shaped entity at home.

All we would do when I was there, for hours at a time, was listen to music. I had always had music as a sort of escape route, a way to step away and feel heard and seen in ways I didn't in my day to day but this? This sort of bonding through the sound echoing through both your ears? It was intimacy in a way that was unfamilair to me.


    One of these sounds she adored was punk and emo. I wasn't very familiar with either having lived such a preset existence for so long I avoided anything that would stereotype me in ways I was unsure of. Then she began to tell me this story, a story so magical and brutal, so fantastical and fucked up that surely it couldn't be true. Alas, it was and so MCR was told to me in the form of tension as a face is held still for a makeup brush and lying in beds staring at ceilings with music as your only covers.


    I felt truly magical in that time, or as we used to say 'cinematic'. She's no longer in my life but she did make one eerily accurate prediction before she departed of "one day I'll no longer be remembered by you as anything but that one really cool girl who showed you a bunch of music and that you haven't seen in years". All my love, if you're reading this by the way though I doubt it. Things ended rough but we were both traumatized children and so I forgive our trespasses. Find peace, frommethesun.


    Gerard Way in particular had me transfixed for a number of reasons. He was the first I'd heard of a frontman that talented and indispensable who couldn't really write the musical portions himself but the lyrics, it made me feel as if maybe there was some chance that my talent wasn't half of one and therefore useless to me. His lyrics touched me in a way not much had up until that point with The Black Parade (hold for applause for that masterpiece) demonstrating that feeling as I did and still chanting "I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone" was an acceptable route and maybe someday I'd be okay again.

Danger Days was an absolutely fucking brilliant concept that I fell in love with (and have an entire shot by shot file of what the movie adaptation should be). Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge took everything I adored thematically, sound wise and vibe wise and blended it into an album.


So, here we are today, with my direct product of listening to way to much My Chemical Romance as of late once again since I finally got to see them live after having tickets since they originally reunited.


Think, like, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge but from the woman of the demolition lovers perspective and also they're vampires. Or, if you're not insane and deep in this rabbit hole like me, think somewhat of a story about a vampire assassin and this song is from perspective of  the girlfriend.



three cheers for sweet revenge, mcr, artwork by gee way himself

-------------------------------

Poetry, bottles and enemies

Under thin covers of ecstasy 

Tell me what is it im meant to see

When you stand a reflection right in front of me


A twisted mirror image, distorting my view

Stepping side to side; tell me what do i do

What am i meant to do to shake you?

What am i meant to do to shake you?


I'm the disease they’re so desperate to cure

Made my living awash in dirt

Blood money, blood money;

Blood money earned

Through pains and sacrifices since we were turned



Speaking in riddles, writing in rhymes

Staring at pictures of role models online

Crack and reform; a new me is born

A new mirror image striving to be porn


Huddles and kisses

Cuddles and wishes

Sliced and diced bitches

Begging for a difference


Muggings and killings

All for top billings

Seeking a new reflection 

On the papers today


We’re the disease they’re so desperate to cure

Making our livings, awash in dirt

Blood money, blood money;

Blood money earned

Through pains and sacrifices since we were turned


Go for a bite and oh im so starving

My hungers the warning

Of good things to come


Potential near limitless

Except for the vessel

Purpose of purpose

With which we wrestle


Tremble and tremble

Fill me up angel

One bite to madness

One shade off from practice

One degree off from no return trips

One degree off from no return ship

(whipped!)


We’re the disease they’re so desperate to cure

Making our living, all awash in dirt

Blood money, blood money;

Blood money earned

Through pains and sacrifices since we were turned


Smoke off a barrel with blood on your jeans

Will you be the thing to make me get clean?

Are you the one to show me what we mean;

Are you the lean mean killing machine?


We’re the disease they’re so desperate to cure

Making our living, awash in dirt

Blood money, blood money;

Blood money earned

Through pains and sacrifices since we were turned


Smoke off a barrel with blood on your jeans 

(blood money, blood money)

Will you be the thing to make me get clean?

(show me something funny)

Are you the one to show me what we mean

(dripping like honey)

Are you the lean mean killing machine?


Will you show me what we mean

Are you the one to show me what we mean

Are you the one to show me-

Blood on your jeans

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

distant memories of mattering & hoping to be seen (if i could see what would become of me would i have stuck around for the scene?)

Image
 it's been so long since the stars have been gone yet i find i'm startled still when i wake up to an empty sky sat outside my window sill i swallow the feeling deep inside as it rises in me like vomit pray in all of my naivete that the moving objects no comet asked about myself this day id beg to go without comment for there is nothing really left to say without me being honest if i could dispose of my face even if i like the way it lays on the bone that composes my frame i think i know that i'd do it just the same if i could die for a moment in time  if i could be free of my body then i'd have so much that i could say  so many things to live for today  but i'm so acutely aware of my being contained and that's the excuse that i'll feed you today We wake up ...and it starts There was a time, i could swear where we dreamt of, dreamt of stars They truly didn't seem too far Before their faces became marred Prior to being barred I still had my bars Fixed firm...
Read more

"women are born with pain built in"

Image
“Women are born with pain built in, it’s our physical destiny: period pains, sore boobs, childbirth, you know. We carry it within ourselves throughout our lives, men don’t. They have to seek it out, they invent all these gods and demons and things just so they can feel guilty about things, which is something we do very well on our own. And then they create wars so they can feel things and touch each other and when there aren’t any wars they can play rugby. We have it all going on in here inside, we have pain on a cycle for years and years and years and then just when you feel you are making peace with it all, what happens? The menopause comes, the f***ing menopause comes, and it is the most wonderful f***ing thing in the world. And yes, your entire pelvic floor crumbles and you get f***ing hot and no one cares, but then you’re free, no longer a slave, no longer a machine with parts. You’re just a person.” - Fleabag    I, myself, am nowhere fucking near menopause but it doesn't...
Read more

"i want someone to tell me what to wear every morning"

Image
 “I want someone to tell me what to wear every morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat.  What to like, what to hate, what to rage about. What to listen to, what band to like.  What to buy tickets for. What to joke about, what to not joke about.  I want someone to tell me what to believe in. Who to vote for and who to love and how to tell them.  I think I just want someone to tell me how to live my life, Father,  because so far I think I've been getting it wrong.” -Fleabag, s2  I think that having zero free will when you're a child heavily impacts your views of your autonomy for the rest of your life... but hey, maybe that's just me.      The man who lived in my house, who donned the mask of father from time to time, was very insistent on my being all 'safe and sound'. So insistent in fact that trackers, locks and freedom in windows are how I've learnt to love. It's why ownership sounds so appealing at times, why the fucked up roma...
Read more