I want this relationship to be mine. I want to be in her shoes. I want to be able to stand in the crowd of the love of my lifes show and be able to blend in perfectly. I don't want to be bothered and noticed. I want to be able to just say "thank you bright eyes for a beautiful evening" and no one even realize that i am talking about my husband. The fact that they get to live two completely different lives with their families during the day and all of them dogs, and at night he gets to be this ball of sporadic energy and she gets to just stand in the crowd and watch her husband kill it and save the lives of dozens of kids or spend time with her twins is amazing.
I want this to be my life. I've never wanted ot be famous. I've never wanted to be in the limelight. I want to marry someone inspiring and produce music and be able to go to shows for the rest of my natural life.

“I would say this record is about trying to wake people up to what is happening right in front of their eyes. We are all trying our hardest to pretend bad things don’t happen to good people, and that there is some higher power looking over us… but it’s bullshit. Stop covering your children’s eyes. Everything is fucked, and pretending it’s not isn’t making things any better. I’m tired of people praying for a change when it’s up to them to get off their asses and make a change. ”

                -Frank Iero on his Album XO with LeAtherMOUTH. 

Stigmata & the Our Lady.

Now, I am reading this epic story about the Stigmata and Catholicism and although I am not religious, I really want a stigmata. I think they are crazy interesting, and although I think I would hate my life if they really happened to me, I still think they are amazing. They only happen to people who are seriously close to their God, but I just think they are interesting, which is totally not the point. You should be scared. I want to have a priest that can save me from it and help me. Maybe it's a needy thing. I've always wanted to be religious but I don't believe in any of it. I love the idea of this Vatican who controls everything and makes all the decisions and everyone believes their word. Where it's almost like an assassins clan. What happens with all these creepy satanic things that we never know about - that the Vatican and their priests can cover up?
And the whole Stigmata through the hands thing is totally irrelevant. 'Jesus' was nailed through the wrists. Being hung on the cross was not to kill you - it was to punish.

For Our Lady of Sorrows - I just want to get a modernized version on her on the side of my thigh just because shes beautiful and means a lot of different things. Plus, that whole 'Born a Catholic - Always a Catholic' kind of needs something on my skin. alright.

ill probably delete this later when i sound psycho.

bed decision number one of the day is under the belt.

im fucking sick of this.

i shouldn't want to do it to myself before my fucking birthday. im tempted to do it again. i want to do it again. i want it to work this time. my mother always fucking yells at me. she just snapped at me because i asked her if i need to order glow paint online for my party on friday that she didn't help me organize at all. while i feel like shit though - i also feel like finally someone gives a shit about me. I've never had my friends really recognize my birthday. no one ever says happy birthday to me of their own free will. no one ever tells me that i look nice that day or anything. but i was surrounded with attention today because my hair is purple. i felt like someone cared today and it was kind of awesome. and i got told that i was basically going to be the leader of my glee club in 40 days. but does this change the intense need i have to do what i want to do? fucking no - of course it doesn't. i need a therapist or someone who will listen.

"Yo," said Frank. He was looking at one of those paintings of Mary with the little swords sticking in her heart. "I'm thinking about getting something like this inked, man. What do you think?"

"Cool." Mikey looked down at Frank's hands, clasped loosely in front of him. He was bundled up in layers, his sleeves coming all the way down to his fingers. "You have kind of a weird thing for Mary, dude."

"She makes me feel peaceful," Frank said.

Mikey couldn't really see what was peaceful about a crying woman with swords in her heart, but okay.

"This particular portrayal of Mary is called Our Lady of Sorrows," Gerard announced from behind them. Gerard would do that, commentate on stuff whether you asked him to or not, like those automatic holographic tour guides futuristic museums always had in the movies. "Each of the swords represents one of the Seven Sorrows of Mary. The Prophecy of Simeon, the Flight of the Holy Family into Egypt-"

"The Loss of the Child Jesus for Three Days, the Meeting of Mary and Jesus along the Way of the Cross, the Crucifixion, the Descent from the Cross, and the Burial of Jesus," Frank rattled off. Gerard gaped at him and Frank made a face. "Oh, you're the only one who's allowed to know anything? I read books, fuck you."

"Wow," he said, staring down at the stains. "Bad nosebleed?"

"Don't even ask," Frank said, grabbing the handles on his side. "Okay, over to me and then we'll shove it out into the hall, okay?"

Gerard nodded. "Okay. Oh, wait, let me take my jacket off."

"Put it on the couch," Frank nodded towards his living room. Gerard headed off and Frank called after him, "You know, this is a first for me."

"You don't usually accept bedroom furniture from strangers?" Gerard called back.

"Nobody ever gave me any before." Frank noticed a stray spatter of blood on his nightstand and licked his thumb, rubbing over the mark. "A girl sent me flowers once, but hot guys bringing me beds is new."

"First time for everything," Gerard said, coming back into the room.

Frank rubbed at the mark one last time. "Yeah, some might even say it's a little presumptuous for a-" he looked up and completely forgot what he was going to say. "Priest."

Gerard said, "What?" and then touched the collar around his neck. "Oh! Yeah. Mikey didn't tell you?"

"He did not," Frank said, staring at Gerard's throat. A priest. A priest. And here Frank thought the worst that could happen was that he might be straight. Frank snapped his eyes up to Gerard's face and said, "Oh, God, I called you a hot guy!"

Gerard nodded solemnly. "You did."

"Augh." Frank covered his face, hoping it might all just…go away if he thought hard enough about it, but when he peeped through his fingers, Gerard was still there. "I called you a hot guy," Frank moaned. "You're a priest and I called you a hot guy."

"It's okay," Gerard smiled, rolling one of his sleeves up. "You actually made my day."

Frank stared hopelessly at the ceiling. "Oh, man, my Mom is really angry with me right now and she doesn't even know why."

Gerard laughed - he had the same laugh as Mikey, Frank thought, high-pitched and scratchy and stupid and totally infectious - and rolled up his other sleeve. "Forget it, it's fine. Are we moving this mattress or what?"

Frank didn't think they could leave the mattress out in the hall without someone calling the cops or like, a news crew, so they had to wrestle it down to the alley outside. Gerard was obviously a seriously nice guy if he went around bringing people mattresses and praying for their immortal souls, but the dude couldn't tell left from right when he was going backwards, and more than once Frank thought he was going to have to explain to Mikey why his brother was dead in the stairwell of Frank's building with a broken neck and a mattress on top of him.