nobody ever talk shit about my chemical romance. yeah they were overdramatic but gerard way GRABBED and COMMITTED to his aesthetic for each album in a way that the rest of us can only DREAM of.
gerard way decides he and his friends need to be red and black goths and they do it. gerard way decides he and his friends need to be black and white marching band goths and they do it. gerard way decides he and his friends need to dye their hair and larp in the desert and they damn well do it.
he LIVED each aesthetic throughout each album’s era. if you could live that life why the fuck would you not. god bless
slightly dehydrated, eating refried beans out of a can in an abandoned old metal trailer in the desert. My look can be described as “grungey power ranger shounen.” With me are four other people with similar aesthetics, dipping their feet in a duct-taped wading pool and sharing a cooler of popsicles. Against a cinder-block fire-pit that may or may not shelter multiple rattlesnakes leans a bright yellow vespa that may or may not be able to hover, and a goat is chewing on what’s left of a potted plant just outside the trailer’s front door. On an old radio with antenna longer than I am tall, tuned into an un-locatable radio station, my chemical romance crackles in and out. The government thinks I’m dead and my student loans are void. Things are good.
The ending really floored me.
When the dystopia in Danger Days actually sounds like a legit option for the future.
knitting in the dark 