Lunasolitaria's Journals

Is It True That Music Saves Lives? Can You Send Music My Way Then?

I don't write blogs just for the sure fun of writing them. Usually I have something important to say or a story to tell. Right now I just need to let it out... Like everybody in here. It's so awesome that we all have a little space in the (way better) ciber-world, where people come and read your rants and comment on them and spend time caressing your words... It seems as if the humans only inhabit this place and not our daily lives.

Why is that? Why can all of you come and give me an answer and my so called "best friend one call away" can't? Why do you understand and they don't?

Understanding is a secret knowledge reserved only to the online bloggers. I'm sure about it.

Some time ago averybody had something to say about my life. They all figured out my "bright future", but now directions for me are a lot less in demand. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know what the hell I'm going. I wake up in automatic pilot and get through my day without doing anything real. I know this hole so well, I even enjoy the darkness, it's comfortable. Everything you get to know results in comfort.

I don't wanna go to college, I don't want to work as an interpreter for the rest of my life. I need to pick up my guitar and show the world what I'm made of. Like it's so easy, right... Why do they insist? Why do I have to build a profession in ass kissing and work in an office with air-conditioner and watercoolers? Is life really inside a building named "school"? Can homework translate into a better life? It seems so... BORING!

I feel trapped. I need a way out. I need music to come and lift me up from here. It's knocking on my door. I can feel it. But the door it's kinda' locked so I just listen to it from under the door... It comes in waves and it has my name on it.

Does anybody has the key?

On Being A Groupie...

Groupie... What a controversial term. Nobody wants to go by this tittle and honestly, not everybody deserves to.

If you research a bit (that is 'Google' the word) you'll find out that it has nothing to do with what people actually think. "A groupie is a person who seeks sexual and/or emotional intimacy with a celebrity. Groupies are often, but not always, fans of the celebrity they pursue".

And that, my friends, it's nothing but the truth. Ask my friend Wikipedia if you don't believe me.

So that being said, let me ask you something: is a girl that worries if her favorite band got food poisoned a groupie? Is the gal that tries to sneak backstage and scream her favorite singer's name a groupie then? No, she's not.

Wanting an outograph from Pete Wentz, witting a sing that reads "I Support Gerard Way, I Don't Drink!", worrying if Frankie Iero got his wisdom teeth pulled out and now is missing tour, saying to Brendon Urie's picture "You Are The Hottest guy Ever", dreaming of Chester Bennington's sweet smile and buying band merch DOESN'T MAKE YOU A GROUPIE.

Now, if you go to a concert and for some reason you get in the tour bus and you use every single weapon to get into that guy's pants without even remembering if he sang "The Taste Of Ink" or "Hit Me Baby One More Time!" is a different story.

Am I making myself clear? Ok, now let's dig deeper.

Let me ask you this question again but differently: let's say your favorite frontman just got married. And you don't happen to like the girl in question. And you say so. Does that makes you a groupie? Or better yet, let's say that your favorite bass player's birthday is today and you decide to bake a cake and sing happy birthday to his poster. Are you a groupie there? Before you answer you must apply the definition of groupie stated above. Does it fits? Hmmm... Maybe not quite? Perhaps a little bit? (The thing is that there are not different kinds of groupies. There are just groupies in many different fields.) So it could be that those, right there, are not groupie cases...

Now let me introduce you to another word: RESPECT. It has become the most popular word used in this forums, yet the less applied and the most lonely at the same time. This is what Wiki says about it: "Respect is one of the most (if not the most) important attributes for society to maintain, yet it is hard to define"... And to apply Wiki... You forgot that part.

But it turns both ways! I'm not saying that you should just apply it to try and understand the girl that dreams of Gerard's hair, but if you are that girl you must take it into consideration when somebody disagrees with you. This would be a boring world if everybody had just the same opinions, come on, we are alive to disagree... It's part of the fun of being alive! But there are respectful ways to disagree... "You are just a jealous @#$%^" is not one of those ways...

See what I mean? Let's fight about everything, let's disagree until we die! But saying the right words!

And just for the record, a person that goes to sleep listening to her favorite band, or that wears t-shirts with the "MYKEY F****** WAY" sing on it is not such thing as a groupie. It's just a fan. Which is a very deep expression of admiration and some sort of platonic love. (And love in any way can never be bad at all).

Bands would be nothing without fans. And caring about somebody that you've never met is not wrong. Go ask any of those who left flowers by Heath Ledger's sidewalk on the night of January the 22nd if there was any wrong-doing on that.

Let's just stick together. After all we are united by the power of music. Remember that in most of the cases the fan period is just a phase, it might not last forever... That one with the black nail polish is maybe trying to seek a well deserved back door while singing "...I see you lying next to me, with words I thought I'd never speak..."

And that is it my friends. Let's just keep in mind the words of that famous urban poet and great wiseman. Billy Joe Armstrong.

"So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.
It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life!"

We All Die Young...

I must say something... Chris is gone... He was once the only reason why I turned on my computer every night. And now he left the world... Forever. And I can't think of anything beautiful to say in his honor. I'm all emptied out, numb with pain... Just looking for somebody to blame, trying to find the other hand, apart from his suicidal one, to spit my wrath on.

The questions haunt me and fall like leaves from my head as they rot without answers. No. I don't want him to rest in peace. I just want him back. I don't want to sing songs in his memory or pray for his soul. I just want my kid back. So we can argue about Hanna Montana and have kiss battles... He was... He was holding my hand to help me overcome my fear. Why didn't he reach out for me and asked me for help? Just left...

And I... I don't want to hang in there and then look back after some time and say that I made it... I wanna stay right fucking here... And cry and hate myself for the last thing I told him... And scream until I bring him back... And write ten thousand notes saying "Good Night emo baby. Sweet Dreams"...

Death is taking so much from me... Is not playing fair. Tomorrow won't be a brighter day, there's no light at the end. I'm stuck in here. Can't go out and face the world. It's too ugly. I'm too ugly. Why do I have to go and make my life worthwhile? It doesn't make any sense. Why? Because.... I guess... IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW MUCH YOU LIVE. YOU WILL ALWAYS DIE....

And maybe I'll keep on breathing and eating and getting sting by bees. But I just died...

10 Things I Love About You..

You will be here for ever.. Right Here...

May Angels Lead You In.. Hear You Me My Friends!

How do I say this? Words are making fun of me right now. Theyâ�™ve conspired with my shaking hands. I canâ�™t just let it out and carry on... Because I miss you. I miss you so far... And I canâ�™t bring you back.

I never had the chance to tremble with the shake of your hand. I was never reached by the air that your smile exhaled... That smile that I never met but I know just too well. Never met your eyes either, but they easily make me shudder... Submerged in sorrows I admit that I was never there. But Iâ�™ve been here, behind every screen and with hands busy with applause. Iâ�™m here right now, can you see me? Amongst the reckless comments, can you hear my voice?

Are you aware of my heartâ�™s wish? I want every beat of mine to be yours, so you can stand up again and hug your little love and maybe get the chance to say goodbye this time. Iâ�™ll freeze my soul to give you all my warmness.

Because you deserve it all...

Irony is relentless: you had to die so I could learn how to live. Iâ�™ve got stabbed by the mammoth pain of losing you and now I see how fragile a life can be. And what am I leaving behind if I depart tomorrow? My mediocre "more or less", my complaints, my famous "I canâ�™t"... But you, my friend, made your years worth living!

You will be forever that bud that never quite thrived but wonâ�™t wither either.

I want you to be in this world... with the treasure of a pulse buried deep inside your veins. Because I canâ�™t let go... Maybe Iâ�™ll cry a little bit less every night, maybe time will fade away the sorrow. Perhaps someday Iâ�™ll understand that I can always bring you back just hitting the Play button on my DVD... I promise my thoughts to you. Iâ�™ll sew your eyes in my sleeve and Iâ�™ll tattoo your laugh in my ears. I will never forget to remember. Itâ�™s like that poem that you know so well... "I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)"... Because now all the songs have your name... "And if you were with me tonight... Iâ�™d sing to you just one more time. A song for a heart so big... God couldnâ�™t let it live"...

See you there Heath. Iâ�™m missing you already...

My Disclaim To All Those Fuckers Who Talk Shit About Heath Ledger!

Iâ�™ve heard of stupid people before.

Iâ�™ve done myself so many dumb things, but this is totally off limits.

This scrapes the bottom of dumbness without a doubt.

Itâ�™s almost easy to understand. Itâ�™s not like you have to muster your last drop of common sense. But for those who seem to find this complicated enough to even make them wobble their cheeks in concentration, I have a very Sesame Street like explanation:

HEATH IS DEAD.

So pretty much everything is useless.

The constant and vicious bombarding to his image, the trashing, the disrespect, the restless efforts to stain his memory. Itâ�™s all pointless. My sadness is pointless as well, and my tears and sorrow and my pain and this gigantic desire to see him smile again... Nothing too bad or too sincere is going to bring him back again.

So, can someone please explain to me why is this happening?

Itâ�™s like having a huge, white exquisite piece of fabric with a coffee stain right in the middle. You keep focusing on the stain, being completely oblivious to fact that you can perfectly cut around it and still have an amazingly rich fabric.

So yeah, probably Heath had a problem, but it does no good to place it under a magnifying glass now, when he did just so many great things to be remembered for. Shame on those who dare bash his reputation now that he canâ�™t fight back to defend himself.

And I donâ�™t even want to get started on the stupid protesters!

I wish I had the chance to be in front of them and shout at the top of my lungs that these actions are irrevocably hellish. Disrespecting a departed is hellish, labeling people is hellish, discriminating whoâ�™s different is hellish, calling people derogative names is hellish; but most of all, putting words in Godâ�™s mouth is the most hellish and satanic of them all. So God sent them an e-mail saying "I hate queers, I donâ�™t care if theyâ�™re my children. And I hate America, despite that I created it"...??

Come on!!!

I bet my heart on this: people filled with hate are not on Godâ�™s side.

Doing all those awful things is not noble. It seems as if Satan is whispering in their ears.

So yeah. I think theyâ�™re gonna burn in hell, Or maybe not, because the God that I know will forgive all their sins and wrong doings... He has a lot of mercy in his heart. But then again, it seems that we pray to two completely different Gods, so their sake is uncertain.

I donâ�™t know... They make it look as if God has an evil twin, and thatâ�™s the one they met....

In all this Heath is still gone...

Ryan Angel

Itâ�™s never easy to start talking about a painful memory.

Thereâ�™s always a risk of getting caught up in a dilemma.

Sometimes it feels like you have to let it out and see your sorrow spilled all over, like milk on the floor or wine on a white tablecloth; it looks natural to be a complaining piece of shit that shouts at the top of its lungs that life sucks and the world can cheerfully go to hell.

But some other times keeping the tears to yourself seems a lot better, even if you sink inside. It might look coward to let out a glimpse of desperation; itâ�™ll be childish or dumb maybe. Imagine what a pussyfied attempt of a person you would be if you start babbling and stuttering your sadness away.

So there it is: the struggle.

Ryan Angel was hovering in between; he couldnâ�™t make up his mind.

He certainly needed to be listened, and surely anyone would gladly sit in front of him and become the most weathered eyes and ears.

As a matter of fact, the whole town wanted to have the scoop on the story but just to satisfy their curiosity or to please that morbid feeling that comes after someoneâ�™s demise. He was conscious enough to know that all that interest was shallow and hypocrite.

He thought of his parents and their worried air when saying â�œIt wasnâ�™t your fault; there was nothing you could do about it. It wasnâ�™t a fair trade, donâ�™t blame yourselfâ�. Come onâ�¦ He wanted and needed to blame himself! Telling him not to do so wasnâ�™t a smart advice.

She was no longer there and he could have avoided it, so it definitively was his fault only. From now on his destiny was going to be just crawling in the dark from the laughter.

He thought of the only person that could help him face the disaster, but it was absurd, even funny to think that his long lost friend would come to rescue him from himself. Ryan Angel made and effort and started lurking around in the vessel of his memories; he couldnâ�™t find anyone else, so yes, that friend was going to be the chosen one.

The last time he saw Gerard was when they were still 8 years old. Ryan Angel was always the kind of kid that made friends in an effortless way. He never said no when someone asked him for help, so that meant that he was usually carrying around his friendâ�™s books and helping them with the assignments. Of course he was very popular with girls thanks to his sweetness and well learned manners; all of them melted when he smiled and were tormented when he skipped math due to influenza. Ryan Angel was the smartest boy in his class and had a febrile passion for his science teacher until the day she tried to make him dissect a frog; that was the same day he met his friend, they where both outside of the lab feeling sick and worried for the frogs sake.

Gerard, on the other hand, was a very geeky and shy boy. He barely spoke but sang like an angel and was always ashamed of his chubby figure. The day he spoke with Ryan Angel for the first time he realized that the other was everything he wanted to be, so he decided to have him around no matter what. Luckily, he got the chance to prove his unconditional friendship that same day when he fought Bert, because no one will call pansy the coolest guy in school just because he was sane enough to let a frog live.

Since that day it was almost impossible to find one without the other. It wasnâ�™t only the sharing of toys and lunch what made them so close, it was also the sharing of problems like Gerardâ�™s parents divorce or Ryan Angelâ�™s illness.

They were undoubtedly the best of friends. No, they were more than friendsâ�¦ Gerard was the brother Ryan Angel never had but chose to have and their friendship was pretty much a fast horse until the trip to the lake. They both went in the water and when they came out Gerard never spoke to him again.

That gap of bitter silence recently installed between them was the detonator for Ryan Angelâ�™s everlasting sadness.

Since that day he became a loner and hid his smile in the left pocket of his blue jacket. He said goodbye to happiness, goodbye to shared peanut butter sandwiches, goodbye to the tree house, good bye to the fucking lake, goodbye, goodbyeâ�¦

I was all blue until she decided to bring colors back into my life, Gerard. You never came back again and I decided not to laugh anymore. It was very hard for me, you knowâ�¦ But I understand you man, it wasnâ�™t your fault. I donâ�™t resent you for what happened and I really appreciate that you attended to my call today. I feel desperate because she left. She is no longer with me anymore and it is my entire fault. Andâ�¦ well, no one but you would understand this.

She meant the world to me. Her presence took me for surprise. Her departure too, I guessâ�¦ We met online. At the beginning she was nothing but another member of my favorite online community, but one day we started to chat up. I was seduced by her name. Luna Patricia. Luna Patriciaâ�¦ It echoes in my mind. I guess she liked my name too, my exotic last name maybeâ�¦ I donâ�™t know, I just decided that a person with her name should be loved so I asked her out.

It was roundabout quarter to five when she appeared in front of my eyes with that pink sweater. I just loved herâ�¦ Like that. Even though I must admit that I had imagined something more, I donâ�™t know, model like, but she was still gorgeous and you know what? She gave me the best present ever, dudeâ�¦ She gave me a story. Yeah, just like that. I told her my past that night in front of a not so cold drink and she decided to change it, so words and words came out of her lips. No more frustrations and loneliness, that was all erased that night. She hugged me and gave me also part of her story so at the end I didnâ�™t know if she was in my life since five hours ago or if I shared with her that stolen condensed milk when I was 4.

Shit happens, definitivelyâ�¦ Why would I lose her like that? With all that blood and all those screams and tears. There are so many things that I never told her. So many kisses I should haveâ�¦

Oh Godâ�¦ I remember that day when she said that my smile was everything she needed to be whole, I got so nervous, manâ�¦ It sounded so poetic and I didnâ�™t know what to reply... No one ever loved me like that before, nobody but her was capable of making me melt with only a lookâ�¦ I wasâ�¦

Iâ�™ve been so alone and she just came and fixed meâ�¦ She came in full blown Technicolor dude. Just for me.

I knowâ�¦ I know. When someone you love dies you tend to remember only the good things, but thereâ�™s nothing bad to reminisce, I swear! We had only one fight and it ended with a very wet kiss, fourteen minutes after it started. Haâ�¦ Our love was magicalâ�¦ and full of guitar lessons and sunflower seeds. I guess thatâ�™s why itâ�™s so hard for me to let go and carry on. We were fingers in a sugar bowl, me and her.

We got so serious and everything and we decided to bring our love to the next level. She said she was going to be mine on November eleventh. Can you imagine that?! I started to watch all sort of porn videos and to read all kind of smut magazines just to impress her. But the thing is that on that date I got really sick so we couldnâ�™t do it, so it happened when I was all unpreparedâ�¦ Still it was amazing! I swear. I never had the chance to practice all the weird positions that I learned from Kamasutra because with all the kisses I forgot everythingâ�¦ Only her lips were important to meâ�¦

I just donâ�™t understand whyâ�¦ Why this? I know that we were going to face some trouble anyway but not of this sort. Her parents were probably going to kill us both, but that is actually a figure of speech.

She will still be alive.

That night, well, that was actually the night before yesterday; she said that we needed to talk, to figure out what we were going to do. I couldnâ�™t wait. We were so scared. She insisted to leave the talking until the next day but I just couldnâ�™t. I fucking couldnâ�™t. So I begged her to meet me right at that moment and that, right there, was the biggest mistake Iâ�™ve ever made. We were walking in the night when those fuckers cameâ�¦ They were six or seven, I donâ�™t know. Itâ�™s not like it matters anymore. They just grabbed her and bound me and Iâ�¦ I couldnâ�™t do anyâ�¦ Anything at allâ�¦ Just the screaming I remember, but whether those screams were mine or hers I donâ�™t knowâ�¦ It's just thatâ�¦ Oh, sorryâ�¦ I know it's annoying but I canâ�™t stop shaking. Iâ�™m reminiscing that fucking moment and I canâ�™t stop shaking, man. She was raped in front of my eyes, I was in front of hersâ�¦ So Iâ�™mâ�¦

I guess thatâ�¦ Fucking faggotsâ�¦ Wellâ�¦ I donâ�™t get it. Why stab her? Why not me? She wasnâ�™t only herâ�¦ It was her and our love and our happiness and our future and our familyâ�¦ The baby, Gerardâ�¦ We needed to talk about the baby and Iâ�¦ I was holding her in my arms and she died. And my will to live died as well. So thatâ�™s why I called you, because no one else would understand. I want to see her again. Iâ�™m going to. When you died in the lake I though I was never going to see you again, but you are here now and soon she will be too. They will be too. And all those pills I took will help me sleep for ever and touch her again and watch her smile. Iâ�™ll smell her hair and I will tell her that my eyes will always get lost in those eyes of hers, even if I donâ�™t see her again. I will tell her Gerardâ�¦ Her lips will always be in my lips even if I donâ�™t kiss her againâ�¦ Ever againâ�¦

Luna Patr!c!a

(Fri. August 17, 2007. 3:15 A.M.)

..."You promised yourself... But to somebody else. And you made it so perfectly clear... Still, I wish you where here..."

This one time...

They say that you should never look back.
Perhaps youâ�™ll turn into a salt statue if you do, or maybe your feelings wonâ�™t let you carry on... I donâ�™t know. Iâ�™m just sure that I canâ�™t turn my head straight... I swear I cannot just look the other way. And even if I could I donâ�™t think I want to. The pain itâ�™s not good either, but the love itâ�™s just too big. And, well... thereâ�™s no much to do with a broken heart anyway.

They say everything happens for a reason.
I beg to differ, right there. Bad things happen all the time. Thatâ�™s it. Not always thereâ�™s a magic lesson to learn and not always the darkest hour is just before the dawn. Sometimes its just dark so you can crawl with the heavy load of your sorrows underneath your eyelids. Sink to the bottom of the ocean floor. Even though I have to admit that after that, a smile can be more powerful than ever.

They say that when a door gets closed, ten burst open.
What if not? What will happen if for a while thereâ�™s no escape and no breaking free? Ok... this is just me being negative.

But today the world is pale blue. Iâ�™m an open window today, messy hair, untied shoe laces, pants too big. Ice cream soda, human lover, bitten nails, untangled nerves. Iâ�™m a shark eating fish, hips too wide, teeth together, flower smeller, chocolate intravenous, cotton candy eyebrows. Iâ�™m me today. Big snow ball, funny feet, muscle pain, sleepless night, torn textbook page, misdialed number, outlandish happiness. Sempiternal sun tan I am, colored sketch, brown eyes, heavy backpack, mosquito killer, passionate, converse wearer, scratched cd. Iâ�™m nothing but a frog dreamer, empty cup, hot coffee, broken castle by the shore, used bubblegum, cat lover, baby hugger, needle terrified and music swallower.
So I donâ�™t care at all about what the world says. People come and stain your ears with stinky words and useless advice. The bad thing of admitting a mistake is that youâ�™re not going back just for wishing so.
Iâ�™ll fade away or just play dead and wake up. Today Iâ�™m just me... with a broken crippled heart and something bitter in my nose.