my chemical romance shoes


Joe Trohman had to miss the Calgary Warped Tour date on July 14, 2005 after a friend died from an overdose.  Ray Toro of My Chemical Romance stepped in to fill his shoes, learning the band’s songs the night before.  

“It’s definitely really weird because there’s definitely a lot of nervous energy going through you,” says Toro post-gig, failing to mention the cheering section of his MCR bandmates at the side of the stage, all masked in black hoodies, oversized sunglasses and huge smiles. “You’re constantly like, ‘I hope I remember this next part, and I hope I’m doing a good job. When we did 'Sugar, We’re Goin Down,’ I was like, 'Fuck yeah!’ I was almost inspired to do some spin kicks, but I was afraid I’d fuck up.”

Lies I Tell Myself Every Day

One more MCR YouTube video.

One more song.

One more episode.

I’ll get a salad for lunch tomorrow.

I’ll exercise today.

I’m not obsessive over this band.

I’m not obsessive over this tv show.

I’m not slightly attracted to Billy Joe Armstrong.

When I was I child, I was NOT attracted to Peter Pan and Sonic The Hedgehog.

I don’t always stay up until 1 in the morning listening to music.

I don’t wish I was a famous YouTuber.

I was never a mega-obsessive fan of 1D in middle school.

I don’t secretly believe that Vans and Converse are mortal enemies.

I certainly don’t get violently competitive when I see someone wearing converse while I’m wearing Vans.

I don’t purposely capitalize Vans and not converse.

Guy liner makes the world go round.

Me: So what are your feelings on guy liner?

Them: Only faggots wear it.

Me stuffing garlic bread into my shoes: You’re tacky and I hate you, I’m leaving and I’m not even sorry.

At the age of 14, black was the only color you craved to wear
You wrote the lyrics of my chemical romance songs on the sides of your shoes
Hoping that your mother wouldn’t find out
You dreamt of coloring your hair bright blues, pinks, and greens
But always thought your skin was too brown for that

Hating yourself at 14 is easy
Even more so when you’re Mexican
And your familia does not approve of the current trends
You envy the blanquitas with pale skin and parents who didn’t care
If they spent their entire allowance on Hot Topic
Rather than American Eagle

It didn’t help either that the bands you loved
Never ever looked like you  
But you admired them anyway
Even if it meant hating yourself

Now you’re older and thank your mother
That she never let you dye your hair
Or wear belts with too many studs

Now you wish you could console your 14 year old self
Telling her,
“brown is beautiful,
never let anyone tell you different.”

—  A portrait of a 14 year old chicana who wanted to be emo in 2008 by Claudia Delfina