#RIPMyChemicalRomance



This morning, I watched a lot of videos by My Chemical Romance. Then after several hours spent with sister out of home and away from my laptop, I was shocked to know that mcr had split. I was trying to deny this news, until I saw the hash-tag on twitter about mcr breaking up. This is not cool, I cant accept this breaking news. Then I saw some people making fun of us, the fans of mcr who are just too sad and upset after knowing about the split-up, saying we're just some crazy emo kids who cried over a poser emo band. I also saw some people arguing about mcr's genre. Be it a punk band, or an emo band, or whatever it is, as far as I know, their music is the best. Genres are just a boundary that set a limit for great music to be exposed.

I don't care if people said I'm overreacting, I'm too emotional or whatever, because this band, My Chemical Romance, gave me a lot of special and vague memories from my childhood until I grow up and become an adult now.  I remember those days I was being bullied by my classmates, I only had mcr's songs to have hope and faith in my own helpless self. I was accompanied by their songs until I finally had the gut to fight back those bullies. Mcr's songs also got me into poetry. Writing has never been a thing for me, but not until I heard of "I'm Not Okay" and "Helena", I started to jot down words and turn them into some crazy-weird shit that now has become an obsession to me. This is the ultimate reason why I love mcr so much. From being just a depressed girl, I manage to turn the bad energy into poetry and now I am doing my degree on literature. See what mcr had given me? So, that is why I am so sad. I cried so hard when I saw the tweets about them. A lot of mcr's fans had shared a same thought, we all hate how our heroes had fallen apart and left us hanging. Their words and music saved a lot of souls.

I know a lot of people hate mcr, they called and labelled them as fags, but to me they are part of my childhood, my teen-hood, and my present days. Thank you My Chemical Romance, for your words, your music, your talent and your spirit. They had lifted me from being so fucked up until I finally realized that the world has more than the negativity I've seen inside my mind. The world has you, to bring us hope and faith in ourselves. Even though you guys are splitting up now, you're still together as a band inside my heart. When I have children of my own, I will tell them about your band. I hope you're just joking about breaking up, because deep in my heart I still believe you will come out with surprises to us, the killjoys. Farewell, mcr. Thanks for everything.

Psychotic Life



I looked at my reflection in the mirror hanging on the white wall. I could feel the presence of her watching me, guarding me with her darken and sadistic heart. I gazed at my own face, feeling sick of everything she told me to do, as if I was not the owner of my own actions anymore. She existed when I had no control of remembering her presence. She appeared when I had no solution to my own madness. She seemed to be taking over me, I wished I can deny every word she said, but because of my weakness, I did not have the gut to kick off every shattered hopes she poured into my minds.

“You are a beast, Suraya,” she whispered.

I remembered listening to the thunder outside the dark room, with a knife on my left hands, blood streaming down from my own hands. One thing I was sure about that day. I was not feeling the pain, which seemed to come from my own bleeding hands. I felt the victory; I felt the success whenever I saw the damned knife. A knife fully covered in rusty blood which I kept until now, hidden somewhere I couldn’t tell.

“You are a beast, a mad and cruel beast. Suraya, you are more than what you think,” she whispered again, like chanting a witch’s ritual rants, to my ear.

She is my other half, my unconscious misery I had implanted inside my mind. I knew she is not real, but my head is messing with me. She appeared when I am in deep trouble, a trouble I wish I didn’t do. I heard she called herself Sofea, with the bloodshot eyes and weary heart, she called herself Sofea Iskandar. Somewhere inside my mind told me that she is real, even though I knew she isn’t.

“Go away, Sofea. Stop messing with my mind.”

“No, I can’t leave you.”

“Why can’t you, Sofea?”

“Cause I am what you are now, a beast.”

That was the only conversation I remembered.

Poor Broken Heart




Broken here am I, 
tortured my soul to the lie. 
Why cant I be pleased, 
a nightmare to cherish?
Crying and whispering,
 wondering and pondering, 
who am I kidding? 
My soul longs for its crave, 
a love I must stake.

Goodbye Pain



Lust flowing like river
temptation arises
pain and blood mixed
the ecstasy of suicide
slitting the wrist of emptiness
slaying the head of loneliness
rotting inside the darkness
depression screaming like
the sound of raging waves
so then she whispers
goodbye pain....

The End



Misery is felt
Frustration is there
Crying in pain
Dying in vain
The End...