alexander-deserves-to-die

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

 Así que, quedé traumado por el mas reciente episodio de HB, me siento igual a como me sentía en enero del 2023 y vengo acarreando aun mas problemas emocionales desde hace semanas, estaba pensando en oportunidades de suicidio cercanas, quizás incluso esta misma noche, pero empezó junio, el mes más bonito del año y tengo suficientes motivos para no matarme;

mes de gays

el proximo episodio de HB sale la proxima semana y

aun me hace falta ver a palaye royale en vivo

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Vivo

 It's a restless night, my veins were torn out, my insides devoured, "He" watches without flinching, just mocking my tendencies to bleed.

This is strange.

I... I have a vague memory of this whole disaster.

A sad ghost sitting in the middle of the room, crying, hungry for human flesh, refraining from getting high on oil paint. His wrist hurts, he really did it, yes! He said it! I said it! I did it!

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

I go down to the first floor with nothing but my long T-shirt and my underwear, I drink a glass of water and walk in circles around the living room, in complete darkness. Everyone is asleep.

Everyone except him and me.

All this madness went through my head once. But it terrifies me that so many things are happening, especially because I have already experienced this once. In a way I provoked it... "And in one way or another, I will be able to replicate the past, even if I try to change my life"

Anyway, I always carry a fresh scalpel blade, just in case.

-Burn!

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

The art of self-harm

My name is Andrew Alexander Dennis Iero, and yes, I cut my wrists.

I don't know the specific information, from what my parents have told me since I was little I was very self-destructive. I remember that the first time I wanted to cut my wrists was when I was 9 years old, I didn't do a big deal to be honest, I didn't have much privacy back then. At 11, it was the first time I self-harmed and left a scar, but it wasn't a laceration, it was a burn. On the back of my right hand, perfectly planned as if it had been a crime.

At 11 years old, February 2022, I decided to steal a scalpel blade from my mother, she is a nurse, at that time she was, currently I don't know what the hell it is. I cut myself on my finger, I think on my left hand, I was very exaggerated, I put a bandage on for a cut that didn't even reach a cat scratch. That same year, in April if I remember correctly, with the same scalpel blade I cut off part of my left hand, I felt so happy, I felt so relieved, it was like a holy remedy for me. I felt so light, so... free, but at the same time I was terrified, what point in my life had I reached?

A few days later, I had a terrible nightmare; I woke up one morning like any other, I went downstairs to have breakfast, but I had a feeling that made me stop in my parents' room (which at the same time is the center of the upstairs), I approached the window as if something was calling me and I saw a van parked outside my house, closer to the neighbors on the right, a small child came out of it with a stuffed dog hugging, when the van started to suddenly lost the balance and fell on top of the child, crushing him completely and squeezing out his insides in front of my eyes. I had that feeling when you're dreaming and you feel like you're going to fall, but I was in the dream and I didn't feel like I was going to fall, I felt like the fucking van was going to crush me alive. After that I ran to the stairs and saw my dad and my older brother, they were both safe. I woke up, terrified.

From that day on two things happened; It became a habit for me to cut my arms and nightmares became everyday things for me.

I kept going, my older brother found out, that didn't stop me, did I mention that I started hurting myself because of academic pressure? When that ended I didn't stop either, maybe I no longer had the urgency, but the need persisted. May, June, July, August passed and I entered high school in person, I was already 12 years old. Should have seen my emotional downturn after going in there. September passed, I got sick, October came, they gave me dental braces that I stopped using, November began and things went from bad to worse, I cut myself, my hand, my arm, my legs, December came and with this came too... . "He". It was actually there before, but I didn't see it, I just felt it. It kept cutting me more and more.

I don't want to talk about 2023, not its first half, not now. An incident made me start to cut myself not with scalpel blades, but with pencil sharpener blades. I cut my fingers, my wrists. The end of that year came, not only did I cut myself punctually with scalpel blades again, I also burned myself with ice and salt when no one saw me.

2024; I kept cutting myself, but now I don't just make meaningless lines, now I draw things with the razor, things that only I understand, and here I am now, excited like a child with a new toy to try another form of pain.

You can draw conclusions as to why I cut myself and hurt myself, it is not because of depression; I have never had depression, I have feelings of sadness of course, but I don't like to call them depression or depressive symptoms or something like that. It's not to attract attention; The last thing I want is for people, especially people I know, to know about this. It is not for sexual pleasure; People who get excited by pain disgust me, no sexual stimulation arouses me.

Is it because... why?

Because... because of the... it's because I... it's because...

Is it for... art?

Art

Kurt Cobain talks a lot about how strong the word art is...

Art

It's for art

Shit, so confusing.

Art

.

.

.

The art of self-harm.

-Burn

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

 I have to admit... it feels really fucking weird to be in this state... without "him."

Maybe if "he" is present, THESE MEMORIES ARE NOT THERE FOR NOTHING! but I can't see him, that's what terrifies me.

"He"... is tall, has a funny head, has deep eyes, is terrifying. "He" is here! Yeah! "he" is really here!

But I can't see him! No one else can see him! That must be it!

No, this is not a delusion, I'm sure, this is not a metaphor, this is not a person I know, I swear there is something.

"He" is real, and the people around me laugh at me and my fear for "him." 

I swear it exists, in the corner of my room, watching me from above every time I go to sleep, every time I feel shit for no reason. 

He is there.

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Adiós a My Chemical Romance... por un largo tiempo... quizás para siempre.

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Basement Artist

I find it laughable how hard you try

I'm sorry, I have to admit it

I just don't understand your reasoning

Your garbage is nothing but meaningless words

I even feel pathetic writing this

Cause I'm trying to be an artist

Of those who drown in a pool of blood and caffeine

Because even in this situation

The apocalypse seems to be a salvation

Maybe it doesn't mean anything to you

Light a cigarette in the early morning

Maybe it helps the pain and despair

A cup of coffee and a lemon pie

If you need to go back to the past

Because all my life I've been miserable

An immature, emo boy who cuts his wrists

Although before having a sexual life

I'd rather drown in an eternal existential crisis

Even if I want to keep my mind blank

I don't think this matters that much.

A miserable child, incoherent with himself

Who changes his mind quickly and his instability eats away at him

An anti-system who hates school and believes in anarchism

A stupid man with traumas, a son of a bitch who has no destiny

Honestly if I die in the pool of blood and caffeine

I would be happy to have lived my life

Because locked in the basement all day

It's how I want to spend all my time

Maybe crying for Gerard Way

Maybe singing Frank Iero songs

Seeing a shining ferris wheel in the distance

Copying the verse of a song

Hoping to find inspiration

One of those songs that make me cut my wrists

Painting pictures with everything and a sore wrist

Returning to my time as a photographer

Contemplating the beautiful night

Editing archived songs and videos

I thought I forgot about them

Creating memories left and right

Thinking about the past with my mind on the pale

Of the moon's reflection through my room

Lost in the fireworks

Feeling the cold air

That gives me signs that my life is passing

Without hesitation I think about what happens while I do what I would like

Painting pictures, collecting broken pieces

I don't care if it sounds pathetic and unrealistic

I'm just playing at being an artist.

-F.T.W.W.

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

SPIKESINGTON

You have no idea how happy it makes me to see Remington's latest Instagram post, I felt so full, I felt like something that was rudely taken from me had been returned to me. It's nothing against Palaye Royale, I really liked their sextape/songsforsadness era but I needed to see back the guys I met and who earned my complete love. It's like coming home.

Plus, so many things have happened recently, I listened to the lost Ocean's Tape tapes again, I was watching Royal Television, there is almost no light in my room and this kind of "return" of the Palaye that I knew makes me damn happy. <3

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

itinerario de videos

Pencey Prep analisis

Analizando el MCR Return

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Cookies that taste like 2021

I'm wearing shit that cuts off the circulation to my wrist so I can cover up the result of my longing, I was feeling a pain on the right side of my head that spreads through my neck and runs all the way down my spine until it reaches my hip, oh God, my fucking hip, I could never recover from that fucking injury. It doesn't bother me anyway.

How I wish I could just sleep, although I think sleeping is what's killing me.

I don't understand what this moment in my life is about, I'm just trying to let everything follow a natural course, the course it should follow, but this fucking feeling persists that they are constantly stabbing my insides and sticking little pins into the edges of my eyes. and in the back of my head, it feels like my tear ducts are burned and the scab has been ripped off the burn, leaving in its wake a terrible burning sensation that paralyzes my jaw and seems to coordinate with the pain of constantly scratching a fresh cut on inner part of my wrist. The aroma of my mother's room infested by the smell of wet earth from that morning in March 2021, along with the smell of smoke from a December bonfire in 2022, when I was harassed by a fucking demon of sleep paralysis, that inspired me to write a creepypasta, cables about to be burned by the heat of the early spring of 2023 and KitosCell, the fucking aroma of KitosCell.

The same thing always happens. It's always the same.

That impulse to tear my veins persists in me in the first second in which a lump begins to form in my throat and I feel how my eyes without realizing it make a superhuman effort to contain the blood, only to minutes later struggle to get all the poison out. and after so much agony… I give in.

I don't avoid it.

It won't matter at the end of the day.

But I should keep my promise of sobriety because the heat is becoming even more unbearable. I hate the damn helplessness and frustration that seems to be metastasizing throughout my brain.

It doesn't matter anymore.

It seems like I always come back to the same place, I don't know how that makes me feel. Fuck everything.

What did I do? What am I doing wrong?

After wasting a full day and a lemon pie, as a final lucidity I resign myself to eating cookies and jam while drinking coffee and listening to My Chemical Romance.

I dissociate for a moment and images of previous years and things I never truly experienced come back to me and I consider the idea of ​​finishing everything on Sunday night.

What a waste.

-XoAlx

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

FuNp1r3 (fuN v4mpiR3)

Snow, snow, snow!

Snow fun, motherfuckers!

Spring is getting closer and my mouth and nose are starting to bleed.

Blood, blood, blood!

I taste that sweet taste of vampire blood again, while the heat is killing me and I wish my hair had been cut.

The taste of caffeine and blood, seeing ghosts and fucking knives.

Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts!

I love ghosts!

I want to be a ghost, a Rad ghost, Alexander ghost

Dysphoric emo vampire-ghost, Alexander.

I love ghosts so much. As much as coffee

Coffee. coffee, coffee!

Coffee circulates through my veins, my heart pumps coffee, my arteries transit coffee, my tear ducts cry coffee. Coffee and blood.

God, I want ice cream right now, coffee ice cream! Coffee ice cream with chocolate sprinkles and vampire blood.

I like vampires. Are funny.

Funpires

God, how I would like to stay up all night as a fun vampire, a rad vampire.

God I can't stand the heat

God... Does God exist? God is gay, I'm sure he's gay. God is androgynous, God can be man and woman at the same time, like me, I am a boy with a uterus.

I am sure that if God existed it would be all of this, because God is love and there is nothing more loving than homosexuality and there is nothing more beautiful and loving than androgyny.

We should all be like God. But I have seen God. God is a centipede with wings. It's very pretty.

God, I want a hug right now, but not from just anyone, I want a hug from a ghost.

@frankieromustdie, can you give me a hug?

God, now I want lemon pie, I love lemon pie.

Will ghosts like lemon pie?

@frankieromustdie, do you like lemon pie?

It's fun to write, just as fun as funpires

The floor is cold, thank heavens.

What do ghosts like to do? I like to draw and write, I like lemon pie and coffee, I like Halloween and autumn.

Am I a funny ghost?

God, I want a chicken lolly pop

Ha, how funny that sounds

chicken lolly pop

-XoAlx

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

My eyes are burning, my head feels empty, my heart feels compressed in my chest and I feel like I'm going to throw up my intestines.

Everything and nothing at the same time, I'm having all these fucking symptoms and my nose doesn't give any signs,

beyond seasonal allergies, (I have allergies all year round)

I already want to have my first nosebleed from the heat so I have an excuse and gorge myself on Neapolitan ice cream while I rewrite frerard fanfics and listen to creepypastas.

How specific that was.

Outside of joke, I must admit that I hate the heat, which is ironic if you realize that spring is one of the seasons that I look forward to the most,

I wait patiently and expectantly for a heat comparable to the fire of hell to concentrate in my room.

Let it burn, let it burn.

That it burns so much that it requires tons and tons of ice cream, cold coffee, frozen monster and lemon pie, a lot of lemon pie.

Enough talking about food, I don't want to talk about that, what I come to talk about is the sea of ​​contradictions in my life;

It terrifies me very much that we are getting closer and closer to the beginning of spring,

contradictions and contradictions,

I just don't know how to focus on the present without dissociating and getting stuck in the past,

especially when my present is indifferent to me

Fucking catastrophe, I know,

understand that there is not much you can do when you have trouble sleeping and the only way to not fall asleep during the day is to consume sick amounts of caffeine,

with the only problem that the coffee has abandoned you,

so you stick to writing and rambling with Tech x Rev music videos in the background,

It is logical that at some point I will dissociate and end up in previous years if I focus all my miserable abilities on a fucking introspective.

In any case, I always arrive at the same point; "When spring comes", "When it's spring", "It's just spring", "It's just spring 2021", "It's just June 2022", "It's just last year"…

I'm showing off a lot. What I'm getting at is that I put off my search for answers until spring for really stupid things.

This is how the human mind works.

We all do what we do for stupid things: love, resentment, nonsense or (as in my case) nostalgia.

I have concluded that everything that guides my life, my decisions, the steps I take and what I believe in do not make any rational sense.

In my life, what really has it? Nothing. My life is summarized in a chain of good and bad decisions made as a result of stupid things.

If it works, it's really not stupid.

This is how I contradict myself when I admit that I HATE the heat and that I like the look of my scars, only to then say that I want spring to come soon and smear KitosCell all over my arm. This is how my mind works. That's how I work.

Why do I contradict myself in this way? What are the stupid things that make me say all this?

Easy. During the spring I had several of the best experiences of my life and the KitosCell was when I received some maternal affection after years of not receiving it… nah, it's really because at the time I started using it I became addicted to the frerard fanfics.

But remember this; Existence in itself is stupid, the engines with which existence works are stupid, therefore, our life engines are stupid.

And that's okay

-F.T.W.W

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Now it's these night terrors that dig into my gut at night,

marking the beat of an unknown dirge,

Fighting the urges to make my heart explode,

what a waste of nights that I waited so long,

I'm not surprised he wastes opportunities to live.

But I know you despise maximizing your crisis so much,

I understand, we are better this way,

but you can't deny your penchant for dramatizing everything in your life.

Take the path of F.T.Willz,

expectant of the tragedies you know you couldn't handle until the heat makes your nose bleed in spurts and you can only cling to a chorus of Frank Iero songs while you wait for March 21.

The blood atrophies your throat,

you sink into your own nostalgia and then wake up from another nightmare on a Saturday morning.

Not knowing exactly what they said and deceiving yourself with every word that comes out of your mouth,

"Yeah, that's great, I'll be fine!" and your teeth are stripped from your gums for every word you speak trying to evade the slow passage of time.

You are not able to convince yourself,

You resign yourself and assume that everything in your head never made much sense,

you end up saying "It makes no difference, at this point I'm insignificant"

Catch the fear and turn it into quality time with your stuffed animals by decorating photos of Gerard Way,

getting intoxicated with monster and lemon pie while listening to Millionares and questioning your reality.

Great time for dysphoria to do its work and you want to cut your hair,

Except you still have to wait.

You insist so much that everything be as before that you limit yourself,

you repress impulsive thoughts and listen more to your reason,

That would be great if you weren't so fucking lost.

But from now on promise me that you will be sober at least during the heat strokes,

Make sure no one notices the fake cat scratches,

The same mistake is not made three times.

Going back to before, it seems ridiculous to me how you do everything possible to destroy your nose,

repeatedly hitting yourself with the wall, hitting your face with a stone to see your nose bleeding and see your hands full of blood,

real or fake, the pigment is difficult to wash off but you insist on simulating your intolerant reaction to the heat of spring.

How about you just sit in your desk chair, put your computer in front of you on the edge of your bed and write fanfics with sad songs that your mother would listen to, and stop messing around for a while?

(Maybe it's because I don't have a mother lol)

Anyway, for you it's just memories and an insignificant piece of wood from a broken guitar that make you insist so much.

What can I tell you? They are my weaknesses.

I hate my weaknesses because they make me who I am, I am them, they are my miserable existence.

-F.T.W.W.

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Boke Pieces Storytime

I have realized that I have only written this in my diary; The first night I stayed up until sunrise by accident and had a forty minute trance because of it.

This story begins with an old habit that I acquired during the Easter holidays of this year 2023, which was basically reading frerard fanfics and staying there until three or four in the morning, it was entertaining, on the second of those nights I found a fic which I started reading and I didn't like it, but there was another version that was something similar to a "good ending" of that fic. On April 8, Holy Saturday, my curiosity got the better of me and I sat in my desk chair, recharged the computer in my oil paint case so it wouldn't explode, and started reading that "good ending" called BROKEN PIECES. I started reading it around four in the afternoon, so I thought I would finish reading it early, we know that didn't happen, I got so deep into the story, I was so into it, it seemed like I was hypnotized by how good was that fanfic, so that when I finished reading it I didn't even see the time, I looked up from the computer screen and looked at the window, witnessing one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen in my life.

I clarify at this point that my happiness for this happening was because since 2021 I have a kind of goal of being awake as long as possible, if it was possible not to sleep at all.

At that time I was taking a treatment to strengthen my immune system, it was something called "transferon" or something similar; When I finished reading the fanfic and saw the sunrise, I waited a few minutes to go down to the main room of my house, I went out to the patio to process what had happened. And there I was, walking in circles (or I would say in a line back and forth) remembering and internally commenting on the fanfic. The story was great, everything that surrounded the fanfic.

A long time later I had breakfast, because I had to remain fasting for up to an hour after drinking the dose of the treatment that I mentioned, and as I mentioned, when I started reading the fanfic it was Holy Saturday, therefore at this point it was already Easter Sunday and Since I have a religious family, I was forced to listen to the Easter mass (which by the way was longer than the conventional ones) trying not to fall asleep. When I finished mass, I went out to the patio for a few minutes again and fell asleep for a very short time on the grass. It was clear that it was my first time without sleeping a full night, so my body was melted and I decided to finally take a short nap. in my room. I remember that I played mcr's boy division out of alarm XD.

After waking up, my brother called me to eat, and since I was downstairs I took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, so I took off my bracelets for hygiene, I went back up to my room with the bracelets in my hand even without them. Put them on and when I got to my room I closed the door and sat on the edge of my bed to put on my bracelets. I was looking at the floor, and while I was putting on a bracelet I think I fell asleep, but what scared me was that I saw three weeks of my life go by, lived, every day, every hour, every minute, every second and when I woke up suddenly, I was quite disconcerted to see that he was still sitting on the edge of my bed with my hands in the position that i was, putting on my bracelet. I looked at the time on my cell phone and only forty minutes had passed. Still quite dazed, I went down to the first floor, wet my face so as not to fall asleep again, and again went out to the patio to reflect on what had happened. To deal with the feeling I started cooking rice pudding, I made myself some coffee and when I finished cooking I went back up to my room. I remembered that that day (April 9th) was Gee's birthday and I made a drawing about it. After that, and to keep my mind busy, I dedicated myself to drawing ghosts for the rest of the afternoon.

These two events have been extremely relevant in my life for several reasons, and I can even say that I am quite fond of them. Anyway. I hope this anecdote was at least entertaining :D

-xoalx

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Hoboken 2007

How can I begin to relate this?

There are many things that have become important in my life, among them My Chemical Romance, but I couldn't talk about my love for mcr without mentioning what originated it; Frerard.

There is something called "seasonal depression" which basically refers to feelings of deep sadness and melancholy that occur only at specific times of the year; We could say that the clearest examples of this are the depression at the end and beginning of the year. In my experience since I have been dealing with these types of feelings, the depressions at the end and beginning of the year have something that makes them special.

It's the sweetest pain I know. And something that has happened to me since 2020 is that this mood has been present since November and I have only noticed the unconscious transition of this twice; last year and this year.

What does this have to do with MCR, the frerard and the 2007 hoboken?

This year, during the depression at the beginning of the year, I discovered Frerard (you must imagine that that was a mess), I saw the complete Frerard theory and there was something that stuck in my head; when Frank during I'm Not Okay in Hoboken 2007 replaced "Trust Me" with "Lie to Me" while watching Gee. I have the image of the Christmas tree that January 5th with Frank's voice saying "Lie to me" in my head over and over again. That's why I relate the "Know that I will...", the "I'm sorry-I know" and the rest of the things to the melancholy of those months. December 2022 was one of the worst and most beautiful months of my life. This year, to be more specific, on November 1st I stayed up late again until I saw the sun rise, and I felt the emotional change at the precise moment in which TBPisDead! ended and Hoboken 2007  began.

Going that concert from being a "paquetaxo" of frerard to a reference of winter melancholy to me.

-xoalx

[alexander-deserves-to-die]

Fade out

I recently made a guitar string bracelet

My room looks more and more great

I can't wait for the dawn

The cold begins to penetrate my bones and hits my already fucking hip

I appreciate the blood on the dress and the paint on my arms

Yes, it looks beautiful

The knife cuts the drape of skin painted with colors that burn your retina

so damn beautiful

It cuts it, but it doesn't bleed

This once perfect spectacle of hedonism is interrupted

Remington's voice continues to sound

This is how I go from absolute terror to the calm of November

Impatiently waiting for a dawn that seems to never come

Listening again to those words that made me cry

Don'y you remember you told me you loved me baby?

And now I am here; November 2, 2023

Impatiently waiting for the cold to reach the depths of my skin

Was it worth it?

Why am I hesitating?

At this point I doubt my very existence

Impatiently waiting for the sour smell of tangerines and tobacco

I understand now

In the midnight hangover

Now the words that were written in the epilogue take control of the prologue

I narrate all this from the beginning, living the end

Well my mind clouded by emptiness and sleep always tells the truth

Spills feelings like blood and coffee

"Hello, my name is Alexander"

 I say in a rough voice after a box of cigarettes.

Looking around my eyes

Yes, I'm made up like Andy Sixx

Maybe the sore hand, maybe the sleepy mind

Perfectly portray what I want to say

If that is!

Because without being in my five senses I can speak without saying a word.

-Burn!