Monthly Archives: March 2013

Gerard’s Goodbye

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A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.

I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.

It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.

The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
Love.
This was always my intent.

My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013

We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-

Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.

Fatalism.

That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.

To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.

I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-

When it’s time, we stop.

It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.

You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.

<At this point, I take a break to receive a visit from old friends, all of which were instrumental in some way to the beginnings of the band. We talk about the old days, and we talk about music, we talk about new things. We laugh and drink diet soda. We say goodbyes, I go to bed, to resume my letter in the morning, which is->

Now-
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.

There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…

I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.

The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.

All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.

What it said is between me and the voice.

I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.

Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.

There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-

That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?

With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.

And another opens-

This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.

He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-

“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.

When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.

I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.

In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.

I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-

Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.

Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-

My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.

Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.

Love,
Gerard

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Gerard speaks the truth

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The difference we wanna make is number one, to let these kinds know that they’re not alone, that they’re actually not that messed up, and that they can do whatever they want. They can express themselves however they want without being persecuted or called a faggot or some kind of racist thing, and you know, and really just to get people to get over their stuff so they can live. Like, living’s very important, that it’s more important to keep yourself alive, there’s nothing worth even hurting yourself over. I mean, I’m a person that goes through alot of depression, and stress, and things like that. I’m generally happier these days, but I have, it’s normal, it’s completely normal to be depressed, so, um, I think it’s good to have a support group, it’s good to have people you can call, it’s good to talk to your folks. I think it’s just important that you keep yourself alive, that you just stay fighting, because actually it isn’t that bad. I mean, we started this band thinking the world was extremely ugly and now I think now we realise that it’s more beautiful than we thought, and I think our music is now reflective of that. So, if anything, you can take it from a guy and his band who used to think everything was shit, and we’ve found that it’s not.”

R.I.P. My Chemical Romance

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Today, the one band that saved my life, split up. Here is what their blog said:

Being in this band for the past 12 years has been a true blessing. We’ve gotten to go places we never knew we would. We’ve been able to see and experience things we never imagined possible. We’ve shared the stage with people we admire, people we look up to, and best of all, our friends. And now, like all great things, it has come time for it to end. Thanks for all of your support, and for being part of the adventure.
My Chemical Romance

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This band has meant so much to me. Band in middle school, I got bullied on the bus to the point where they pulled my hair and threw my books, kicked me and hit my head against the window every day. I wanted nothing more than to make it all stop. I got my revenge on the kids but it still didnt heal the pain and damage left behind. I was left struggling with anxiety and depression.

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I remembering turning on the television and seeing their video “Im not okay, i promise.” I took that song as my personal anthem. They made me realize it was alright not to be okay. I so often pretend like everything in my life is okay because im afraid of what other people think and expect of me, but sometimes it’s alright to not be okay. Life can really suck ass.

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To say this band saved my life is an understatement. I believe in God and I believe he led me to this band. As corny as that may sound, here me out! I used to live in Mississippi and every night I would pray that I would not wake up in the morning. And when i woke up in the morning, i cried because I was still breathing. I hated everything in my life but I had to keep a straight face to keep my loved ones from knowing how upset I was with everything in my life.

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Yes. I did the emo thing, I used to cut but it wasnt for attention. I didnt want anyone to see them, ever. I stopped when I got my first boyfriend, who was a god sent and got me to stop. But later on in life, I remember panicking and crying from an episode of depression. The worst thing was, sitting on the floor of my dorm room bathroom crying because i was afraid the razor I had brought with me. I would constantly scratch my arm to get rid of the urge to cut to somehow release myself from emotion and sadness. Thinking, maybe if I ended it, I could finally rest and get some sleep.

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I still have the problem but what i love about My Chemical Romance is that the lead singer would preach to all the broken hearted outcasts, who wanted nothing more than to not live anymore. He would preach at shows about not using violence and self harm to solve your problems. Living is what is important. Being you and staying ugly is what makes you amazing. Even though they have broken up, I hold their music close to my heart.

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My Chemical Romance will always be my favorite band.

Much ❤

-MrsSpamtastic

 

Meanwhile in the kitchen. ………

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I bought beer today. I am not a fan of lager, i found that out the hard way, but this ale is amazing!!

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I know its a sweet beer but im a liquor drinker. I love vodka and rum but damn. This right here is the bomb dot com. It has the usual beer taste but its smooth. You can taste the apple and caramel undertones. Soooooooooo good.

-Mrsspamtastic

Dreams & Unicorns

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No. Im not smoking something. I wish I were, though. But I had a dream last night and it was amazing! Ever had a dream make you so happy that you just blush all day long? Well that’s how my dream went last night.

ImageThis guy, Joe Brooks, was in my dream and it was amazing! So my biggest fear and pet peeve is that in-between time when you don’t know if you and this person you like are in a relationship or not. It’s that time when people finally see you together and the way they act towards you is the deal breaker. Wayyy too many times have I been with guys who were ashamed to be with me. It sucks. But basically my dream was with him. I had invited him to hang out with my friends and I. He was fixing the fan in the kitchen, being all manly and stuff. He constantly smiled. And there was one moment when I was leaving somewhere but I got this feeling that i was coming back, it was going to be a quick trip. And he kissed me goodbye. It was so sweet!……….. Then I woke up with my cat drinking out of my cup of water and found out it was raining….. Yeah, fuck my life.

The dream bible says that I am accepting a part of myself that I have been reluctant to show people. I guess thats my nerd side. The more I think about it, the more I think about this girl that basically cut me off because she didn’t want to hear about my career path since it dealt with video games and comic books and not “music”. She just said “Youre such a nerd…Anyway… (blah blah nonsense up your nose). So Unicorns……

I want to be-the very best Unicorn youll ever see!!  bum, bum, bumbum (Pokemon Theme)

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Not literally but Phillip Defranco,  ( http://www.youtube.com/channel/UClFSU9_bUb4Rc6OYfTt5SPw ) talked about girl who are unicorns. They are funny, attractive, friendly and sexy and with a great personality…….. I want to be a fucking Unicorn. Im gonna buy some wood and carve it and paint it and super glue it to my forehead, Then im gonna take a pretty pony fake tail, and staple it to my butt! Then ill be the best damn unicorn! lol

This is the product of not enough sleep.

Peace out!

-MrsSpamtastic

Thanks Carrie Bradshaw

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I met this guy at a speech and debate competition who did a poem that made me fall in love with him. I think it was the tone of the poem not the guy, but he had such an attitude presenting it that i drooled the whole time. I could have given him a standing ovation. But the poem he did suddenly came to mind when i saw this picture. The poem talked about how this guy was tired of women not being attracted to him so he decided to date himself. He would send himself flowers and candy and go on dates with himself. Then, when girls saw how happy and desired he was, they started to flock to him. 

I could care less about the guys flocking to me but the whole situation made me think about it. What if i dated myself? Now, i know what you’re thinking. NO. Im not going to spend nights masterbating. That is not what i meant, so get your mind out of the gutter. I want to fall in love with myself. Enjoy what I love to do and what makes me happy. I keep forgettin who I am by trying to fit into a mold that im not made for. So im going to do it. Stop feeling helpless and start loving who i am because who else will?

Day 5

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Did you know that when you don’t check your notifications on Facebook  they email you and tell you to be more active? 

Fun Fact. But yes, they constantly tempt you to get back on Facebook if you have been inactive for more than 3 days. But….

MOM  GOT A JOB!!! 

Im incredibly excited for her. She has been searching and finally got called back! At her last job, she filed a sexual harassment claim against one of her managers because he was stalking her. She would come home in a tearful rage because of it and finally just quit. She sounds like me with my last job. They did not pay me enough to be bossed around by a bunch of people my age and try to win some sort of popularity contest to gain friends. Hell no! That’s just not the way I roll. 

But yes, Went shopping today and I got a some cuticle cream. Have you ever had you cuticles peel? It sucks some serious butt!! I would weep at night because of the pain. Just kidding. But yes, had an adorable girl give my cuticles a massage and my hands feel amazing! 

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A friend of mine has been texting me, trying to help me get over my depression but It’s not helping me. Instead of listening to his false small town confidence boost shit, I picked up my NOOK and bought all 8 issues of Injustice: Gods among of us. I love it!! This comic book is lovely and makes me love Harlequin. I never understood the obsession until she made the comment about Mustaches and never having to have a reason for having a fake mustache. Thats what i am telling people for now on when they ask about my fake mustaches. 

Other than that, Ive been reading The Hobbit and Catching Fire. Ive also tried writing a song but I cant find the right words. Other than that, the weather was shit today. OH!! I did watch Faceoff and Robot Combat league. If you havent noticed, im incredibly nerdy and people look at me weird, which is fun. Anyway, Faceoff. OMG! The challenge was egyptian god mummies, and my favorite artist is Anothy. I thought for sure he was going home because they had been giving him hell for the last couple of challenges. Mom and I had basically given up on him and then all of a sudden they named the other guy was going home. I freaked the hell out! I was so happy for him but I knew he probably went back to the apartment, and cried himself to sleep. It was a shocker. For now, Im gonna watch Crazy Stupid Love and dream me some lemonade. 

Peace!