Yes quite agreed.
"All they sing about is wanting to kill themselves & death & their music is full of hate"
Really? You still think that? “Open your mind before your mouth” before you criticize the people who saved my life.
Guys sorry for the colour but i really fucking love this post.
Imagine Frank an having orgasm after pushing his length into you.
I keep seeing these ‘how to say I love you in different languages’ posts, so I decided to do one of my own <333
Wasn’t it jet’aime in french?
these are all insults. the one in german means in english ‘you’re an asshole’ and the french one something like go fuck yourself.
I was wondering about that because puta means whore in English. Go Fuck yourself is correct, I think.
'Pezzo de merda' in Italian means 'piece of shit' in English.
every single person who reblogs this
will get “doot doot” in their ask box
I WANT TO KNOW YOUR SECRETSERIOUSLY THOUGH WHAT ARE YOU
I GOT THIS AND I WAS LIKE WHAT THE
there are over 128,000 notes and i still got one
i reblogged this less than 2 minutes ago
how the actual
legit how, in like 30 seconds i got one and this has 500k notes
how can you not reblog this
what if i can’t forget you?
That’s not important.
What is important is you.
Now, you may not know me, but I know you.
I know you’re reading this.
Wondering what this is about.
Trying to decipher what I’ll type next.
We may be the age.
We may have the same hair colour.
You may be just as broken as I am.
I’m not going to dwell on the upbringing I had that, nowadays, people would kill for so they’d get sympathy.
I’m not here to tell you some shit about something you don’t care about.
I want you to listen to me.
We are together, you and I, we fight this world together, we breathe the same air and partake in the same emotional distortions.
You are not alone.
You have me.
I want you to relax, dry your eyes put down the razor/knife/glass shard.
I want you to just read my words.
Just listen to me.
Forget about your problems and focus on this, my, words.
Try and picture my face.
I want you to put a face, a body, a soul to this text.
Imagine I’m laying on your bed.
There’s an empty box of 36 sleeping pills next to me, on the floor, 3 of them are scattered around the room, the rest have already been through my esophagus and are starting to slowly digest in my stomach. I’m braking. I’m losing the fight. I’m dying. My once beautiful face now burnt with death and destruction. The life that was a head of me, wasted, gone, the younger members of my family , everyone is dead to me. Everyone I have and everyone that I have ever loved. Gone. There’s a note next to me in, your, bed; there are 5 short paragraphs that leave you feeling hopeless. Weak as you read them.
You’re the one who has found me dead. Dead due to suicide.
Hold onto that feeling.
Imagine I’m you.
Imagine you’re me.
You’re now dead and I’ve found you, your mum found you, the ones you love dearest have found your lifeless frame spooled out on a bed that they bought for you. No one else: you.
They love you.
He loves you.
She loves you.
I love you.
Now I want you to relax.
Take a deep breath.
Picture your most dearest, be it someone like Gerard Way or your mum, sitting in your room, they have your razor between their fingers, their sleeves are rolled to just above the elbow and they place the cool metal to their forearm. Slicing their perfectly beautiful skin open.
Would you stop them like they’d stop you?
Would you stop them like I’d stop you?
I’ll always be here, and so will they.
We love you and we want you to stay.
The world is dark and ugly, oh so ugly, but you’ve got to be the light in this world.
You’ve got to carry on for the fallen.
Don’t let your torch burn out too fast.
Other torches may die with you.