stillattheresturant13

[stillattheresturant13]

[stillattheresturant13]

another one for the gerard and chappell parallel

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i slept with someone from fall out boy and all i got was aids

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All Falling in Reverse fans will Die in approximately 5 Seconds

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Hahhahhahah phone downtime can't stop me from blogging behold the power of scheduled postinggg

My phone is most definitely locked at the time of this but whatever

[stillattheresturant13]

listening to mcr isn't enough anymore. I need ray toro to break into my house and shred his guitar at three in the morning at full blast

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wgat if we held hands and kissed by the wizard fountain

what if ur getting touched

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HELLO?????? WHAT WAS IN THE AIR THAT NIGHT???????#&*@@,@&@*#,@,@*[£;#

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no i don’t think you guys are actually getting it… i look in people’s windows… in case you’re at their table… what if your eyes looked up and met. mine.. one… more…. time?

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When I get you frank. Frank when I get you.

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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.

[stillattheresturant13]

[stillattheresturant13]

and when i say that men booing taylor and erupting in cheers for trump is rooted in misogyny

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im gonna touch u vro

i dont consented 💔💔

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why did no one tell me this happened.

[stillattheresturant13]

trump just shared a video of taylor being booed at the super bowl and it’s captioned with “the world is healing”… taylor should be allowed to kill at least one man per week, starting with him