Can Ethel Cain And Gerard Way Please Meet Up One Day

OH GODDAMN

average mcr interview is like

interviewer: so what’s your guys favorite place to eat out at?

ray: i really like red robin’s. love their robin burgers!

frank: under this fascist government there’s no where safe to eat. (cup o noodle)

gerard: 🚬 🚬 🚬 uhhhm… hmmm.. well that’s a tough one.. hmmm . 🚬 yknow i think that like. well really the best place for US to eat out yknow as a band of fucked up normal guys who do gay shit is like an olive garden… 🚬 they’re really free over there… you can get breadsticks and nobody asks who you are or where you’re going… they never ask what your pro-

mikey: i fucking love eating dude like straight up i’ll eat anywhere

Ohhhh you inspire me so much genuinely

I turn off the yellow lights so the bathroom is only red. The sound of the cheap projector spinning, humming quietly, endlessly. I close the door and I lock it and then close the door and I lock it and then I stand under the water. The drugs round the corners of the shower slightly and I'm able to stick my hand through the tile if I want but only if I want. I will always look for a crack in the wall through which to feel it. To touch it. To put it in my mouth and my mouth on it. It's easier when it is dark and when it is cold or when it is suffocatingly hot but always when I'm alone. It does not come to me where other people can see it, unless I take the drugs, at which point no one can see me though I can see all of them. I want to stare at the sun for a while, but not nakedly. Instead I hang up quilt over quilt and watch it try to get through. I want to take more drugs because I want to get high because I want to see it and wrap myself up in it. Maybe I should do drugs before I do interviews. I make all my music high out of my mind, it seems silly to talk about it later while sober. Do I even know what I'm talking about when I'm sober? I'm recounting a memory of an experience I had with God, now with God having left the room. I don't have to explain to you what I'm talking about it, you already know. I don't care who you are, you know. You've been alone at least once in your life so you know. I blacked out every window of my bedroom in the attic in Pennsylvania and I rocked back and forth on my bed with the drugs and I cried asking for it to come to me. I want it all the time. I am so angry that it will let me near but it won't let me stay. It's so cruel. It laughs at me when I realize we are not the same. I'm going to take more drugs and get in the shower and put my hand through the tile. I know you can hear me. It's happening to everybody.

Mothman cometh...

La Femme Chauve-Souris (The Bat-Woman) 1890

— by Albert Joseph Penot

I saw this and had 2 do it 2 them

An observation

im obsessed with this one guy on instagram who goes to that deer park in japan and takes videos of them set to 2000s pop punk and rock. all of the videos are like this