where am i?

Gerard 🥀

MCRfor @kerrangmagazine Issue 1029, October 30, 2004 🩸 #Revenge20

Photos by Lisa Johnson

you keep eternity, give us the radio

so. bad news. we have to keep going tomorrow. good news is that I’ll keep going with you

[DRENCHED IN BLOOD] we really should all do this again next week, yes

Inktober day 15: Guidebook

How to slay (a demon out of your future boyfriend)

my chem posters!!

Date idea?

everyone got that one homie who hasn't been whole since the incident

every friend group has that one person who is followed only by a stench of death and sorrow and loss

Me: *stubs my toe* "AH FUCK!"

Mass of quivering flesh that's been growing in my cabinet and slowly feeding off my suffering until it develops sentience: *takes first breath*

The Archive

thinking about festivals held out in the zones. news of the event being spread through word-of-mouth, coveted zines, secret frequencies revealing the location through the radio. long treks with your crew across the desert, out into the far-flung parts of the zones away from where the scarecrows patrol, the radiation waves causing the horizon to blur and distort in the distance. clusters of vehicles, caravans and cars and motorbikes and trailers all clumped together in circles, fire-pits for roasting during the day and for huddling around for warmth at night. the stage is made of old pallets and plastic clumsily tied together with cord and rope, the stairs up to it creaking with every heavy step and threatening to collapse all together. the music is loud and electric, chords and drumbeats ripping across the desert, painting colours and noise through the otherwise silent landscape. the bands never stop playing, music blasting all hours of the night and day as killjoys mosh and fight and drink and laugh together in the crowd. motorbabies curl up together on top of the caravans to watch the show from afar, sharing sweets and comics and hand-made trinkets and jewellery amongst themselves. alliances and friendships are made with crews from the other side of the desert you otherwise would have never met, the memories encapsulated through the stories that will be told for years to come. art is made and shared in the form of painting one another's cars, tattoos inked deep into sun-tanned and blistered skin, photos snapped on old polaroids with long-expired rolls of film. songs are written in the moment and performed and played again and again and again, the melody forged by the magic of those present at the event. the final hours of the final day are marked by the early rising sun lighting up the people passed out in the sand, the roar of engines turning over, the sight of another crew disappearing over the horizon.

Simon Gallup and Robert Smith in studio somewhere in the 80s.

“these characters should be mentally healthy before they get together 😌” ummm no I actually think we should smash their mental illnesses together like clumps of play-doh and see what colors it makes

sometimes babygirl is a crazy familiar who eats flies and spiders and is played by Dwight Frye in a movie made in 1931