suyokiyonari

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HOLY

moLY it’s beEN 3 YeaRS I’m baCK oN mY TumbLR g4ME

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“Fluctuating between perception, reflecting between perspective and deciphering where my subconscious visions end and the alert state of reality begins.”

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Reblog if you're a fan of Green Day, if you listen to Green Day sometimes, or if you want Billie Joe Armstrong to punch you in the fucking face

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The thought of getting hurt again terrifies me

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I never imagined the lyrics to an album could become reality; for I believe them to be mere works of fantasy from artists with a life featuring way more to live for than my own.

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Being in the arms of the girl I love and feeling her warmth transfer cross body into mine as we embrace with fingertips and oxygen is my favourite feeling of all time.

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The end is nigh, I wish I was high: I'm chilled to the bone, I've got a huge crack down the middle of my phone, My heart is dying, My soul is flying. I've given up, And given in, On everyone, And everything. I can't rely on your shit, To get me through another week, It's hard looking at these walls and mirrors, Your ice cold heart just gives me shivers. I can't commit, Nor complain, You only wanted me, For personal gain. I might be sad, I'm doing pretty bad, But on the whole, It's just life taking it's toll. I wish there was a light, To help me see through, The darkness and bloodstains, That embody me and you. We once burnt like an autumnal bonfire, Now we frost like winter leaves, This situation feels fucking dire, I may as well just grieve. For the loss of this is more than, Feelings comparable to any other man, A love so bright in summer haze, Bound in a book titled: past our glory days. And as I watch you turn away, With a goodbye and a shiver, I'll dry my skin with razor blades, And let my blood run thinner. I'll board up my house, My walls and my boundaries, I'll shut out the world, And build a new foundary. And from the ash, and rubble too, I'll come running up to you, With a knife in one hand and my heart in the other, And I'll make you realise what is like to suffer. An empty canvas, a work of art. You watched me crumble from the start. You gave less shits, you turned away, You are the reason I am this way. I hate my guts, my body too, I want you to know this is my FUCK YOU. My best friend is perfect, she smells of vinyl, The decision I've made is simply final. I'll end this verse, pack my shit and go home, I'm not going to battle with ebb and flow, I'll turn off the light, shut the door too, I'm never coming home to you.

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As the clock tower chimed loudly in the distance, the sound carrying through the wind and around every skyscraper in the city, intoxicated teenagers, rough adults with nowhere to go and night time tag-alongs and employees made their way across the cobbles and paving, back towards normality, reality and daylight.

Some faltered and crashed into the ridges of pavement that lined the perfectly square blocks and rows of skyscrapers, others simply skirted around their bodies to the nearest public transport they could find, and some made detours and turn-offs into other clubs, despite promising their bank accounts and their friends that they were done, out of the scene, ready to hit the bed and awake a sober and life-induced wreck once again.

But not me. I was different from all of these people, I was already sobered up, the drink barely filling my stomach long before I’d decided that my bank account could bare it as little as I could, and instead I turned my attention to standing in the doorway of the fire exit to the club, cigarette after cigarette burning my lips and taking over my lungs, watching the night unfold in front of me.

It was a big and bad city if you didn’t play your hand in the right way; you could come into the city full of lust, love and life and barely leave with so much of an emotion or soul left at the end of the night. It’s as if the revellers, the late night boys, the girls who fled the attentions of reality for a night on the cobbles, the nobody's and everybody's, had just one thing on their mind; to forget, and to forget well. Was life really that bad?

Shit, I thought to myself. One cig left in this packet, how had I gone through this entire pack in the space of a night? I wasn’t even a heavy smoker. Thank fuck, I thought, for the inclusion of a 24 hour shop in this city. It wasn’t quite New York, but it still had the moniker of the city that never sleeps. And in this big, bad little pocket of this small, innocent looking country, you could always count of sex, drugs and alcohol to make up a main portion of a young, lustful and hungry diet.

I took much dislike to the doorway, it’s big, grey and impeding shadow towering over me in a way that made me feel slightly uncomfortable, as though there were a giant burden looming over my shoulder. To counter this, I decided to take a wander through the alley’, in the sadistic and depreciative hope of seeing something I’d regret to finish off the night and bring the daylight, along with the disgusting and harsh reality of work, into this nightmarish night and end my suffering.

As I peeled from the main road, the large skyscraper offices and shopping centres towering over me, protecting me in case the sky ever did decide to fall down, I could just make out the sound of death and anguish travelling through the windows and walls of the terraced clubs and pubs down the side alley’s; a different world here, where the stench of working class and sweat mixed in with drink and cigarettes, where used condoms and bongs littered the pavements outside the unlicensed bars. Ambulance sirens wailed their way around street corners, intoxicated youths scattered every which way shouting, screaming, having a “good time” but not realising how much they’d pay for it in the morning.

I asaw couples, their hands holding barely through the mess their mind was in. It bought back small flashbacks. I had a girl once, well, I used to have many at once. One n the left, one on the right, lines on every table and unlimited zero’s exploding from my wallets. But that isn’t my scene, and with it the girls left and so did the social desire. Why I still came into the city, my hopes and dreams crushed under a capitalist society with the a lying government and an overpriced market of drugs, spices and girls, I don’t know.

Maybe I thought the best way to get over the heartache and heartbreak of the city was to smoke myself to oblivion and pretend I was the same man as I was when I was just a young 19 year old idiot.

You see, I had this one girl. She was incredible, with the ability to play her personality to over five different people - she could snort lines, drink beers, cuddle up in bed, go out on dates and spend all my money, and those were her five sides. Fuck what other people think, she taught me, but she didn’t tell me to fuck when other people thought they should - arguably, her biggest mistake. Offering a body as beautiful, a mind as perfect as yours, out to a man with little self control and little concept of the workings and intertwining factors that the daylight bought the world, a sore mistake.

I thought you should go, just not on the floor with a bloody face, a fading heartbeat and a final grasp of what life really meant to you. Yeah, you left a void in my heart which the cigarettes don’t fill, but I’ll be fine. I’m on my own, with very few zero’s to get me by, with only a little pack of cigarettes each week to remind me of the time we had together, with the occasional bottle chugged at a litre per minute.

The city never sleeps, it never forgives, and it only wakes up to it’s harsh ways for a few hours of the day when the blanket of night time stars and darkness is lifted by the unstoppable, undeniable light, which filters in to remind the failings of the night before.

Caerdydd, you always did amount to a 10 mile radius akin to a landfill site. You took everything I had and you blew it away as quick and loud as the clock chiming through the wind. Fuck you.

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person: there’s something i have to tell you  my anxiety: *the pink panther theme* 

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I don't understand this. Us. There are so many places I could have been when I met you, so many things I could have been doing, so many choices I had to make to get to you. Weekly - something threatens our status, existence, unity. An event, often minute when broken down and processed, whips up a flood of raging anxiety throughout every single cell of our being. The idea of losing you crushes my entire body, the practicality of life without you simply reaffirms that. "This world's an ugly place but your so beautiful to me", read the lyrics on the Enema Of The State CD. Truer words were never uttered; for what is the world without your crystal sparkling eyes and your cool, crisp smile? Empty. That's what. I don't understand this - these worries, hopes, possibilities and fears have me strung up on a carnival float of confusion and paranoia - i could either exist with you but not exist with my life or exist with neither. And i cant tell what's worse; feeling a stranger in arms that I'm supposed to call home or feeling lost in a world I'm supposed to call my own. The ever coming darkness will overrule any of our pathetic opinions, someday. You can't stop it, but you can prolong it. I choose you to help me do that, my guardian angel. Extend your wings around me and shelter me from the overwhelming misery out there. Be my sparse happiness, my rose combust in the concrete.

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I pledge allegiance to a world of disbelief where I belong.

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Stupid things people say to bisexuals

- But you look more straight. - But you look more gay. - You can choose between like..everyone. I’m so jelaous. - Have you ever had a threesome? - Do you want a threesome? - Is it that you can’t decide? - Are you doing it for attention? - But you have a boyfriend, so you’re straight now, right? - Now you have a girlfriend, you must be gay now? - So you like..everyone? - It’s kind of slutty.

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^.^

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Growing up and going to shows around Gilman Street was the best education I got. Walking through that door the first thing I saw was a sign saying ‘No Sexism, No Racism, No Homophobia’, and I think that’s had an impact on me for the rest of my life. Now when people come to our shows the main thing is I want them to feel like they’re in a safe space. If you’re gay, straight, white, black, brown, transgender, if there’s one place you feel you can go to it’s a Green Day gig.

Billie Joe Armstrong (x)

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You fell in love, but then you just fell apart

X-Kid (via billie-sexy-joe)

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Chris Martin raising the LGBTQ+ flag at Wembley Stadium on June 16th, 2016 (x)