I am just frantic.
If I knew how to react I would. I want to fall out of reality and down the rabbit hole. I want to create a new world so beautiful it would trap out all the demons. I want to break every word you say, your petty comments and all. I wish you could see my insides. I am in a panic.
On Tumblr I came across a new picture of Gerard on the cover of SPIN magazine. I pulled up iTunes and started their Bullets album. “This Is The Best Day Ever” was playing. —Every song on that record feels so right.
I was nostalgic all over again for memories that were never there, for My Chem before Gerard was sober, for My Chem before The Black Parade, for the days before every band member was married and all too soon becoming fathers. It’s endless and yet it is a cycle most everyone goes through. But why is it like the writers say, that the good things must end?
This is really great news for Frank, but now that he and his wife are expecting twins, what now? Supposedly they are recording their best album yet, but will there ever be an album release tour? All their loyal fans will still love them to death, I still do but I am having a damn hard time. I wanted to go to more than one show. I wish I could tell you I saw them back in Jersey in ’03 or sang all the words to “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” in class in ’05, but I didn’t. I haven’t been alive long enough to have experienced something that could feel so infinite.
I still want to be angry with them when I listen to Three Cheers, and I want the special songs to continue getting me through the rest of the day. The lyrics that stick with you, they replay in your head like a reminder. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts. I want to be forever and always reckless. I want to wreak havoc. I want to feel like a trainwreck every time I listen to “Hang ‘Em High.” I want to be the kid in the crowd who sings all the words and crowd surfs close enough to the stage to get a closer glimpse of their faces before I get swallowed back up the crowd. I am hopelessly yearning for the past and I am sad.
And we’ll fly home, you and I, we’ll fly home.
-Nixie


