The Body Of Christ As A Symbol Of Self-punishment. (or, Stigmata)

I’m more of an album guy to be honest, so this is just the stuff I put on repeat—

The Taste Of Ink - The Used

Pete Wentz Is The Only Reason We’re Famous - Cobra Starship

Empty Like The Ocean - Midtown

Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) - Fall Out Boy

Alligator Skin Boots  - McCafferty

Thanks for tagging me @youreyesaremyfavoritecolor

no press tags:

@ghostopossumlives, @empty-pools-vacant-alleyways

List five songs you like!

Thx for the tag @bohnerrific69

Talk too much - COIN

Sailor song - Gigi Perez

Sticky - Tyler the Creator

LABOUR - the cacophony - Paris Paloma

Chapstick - COIN

No pressure tags: @jgabriel1920 @theswanqu33nsblog @decafboyfriend @decaf-mother @therealkyspence + anyone else who wants to join

Courtney Love is actually super hot, you’re all just wrong btw

hope this helps!! 🩷🩷🩷

about ~yours truly~

Spencer. Sleep-deprived—slightly unstable—writer and ‘boy loser,’ (as the homie calls me.) I’m the world’s number one, professional oversharer.

This is basically just poetry and ramblings about my life and feelings. (Mostly ramblings, let’s be honest.) I AM an ally to communities im not a part of, so keep bigot shit off my blog.

I’m obsessed with a lot of bands and tv shows. Saw My Chem on October 19th & 20th, 2024. If you don’t like hello kitty, gtfo. I have a side blog, @number-one-castiel-apologist, where I talk about supernatural. A lot. Like a fuckton. So yeah. stay fuckin freaky man ;)

xo <3

when about Judas/love through a biblical lense. 

I didn’t mean for it to end this way. Sometimes  love is... betrayal. The coins. A priceless kiss. I’ll hang myself tonight after I see the blue in  your lips. He’s compelled by a higher power. Everything will be alright in the end. His master  has gotten out of scrapes a thousand times  before. His love cheats death. Did I tell you anything? Did I confess all my sins? I am so  dirty. Filthy. Unwashed. Unclean. Guilt washes  over me. Belief or distance. Ultimatums made of secrets and crucifix kisses. I mourned for you, but you did not take the time to notice me. My Christ has been stolen. I wish for a different life.  My mind. Broken and tired. It burns when he’s asleep. The rope will never break. Prophecy. 

I’m the type of guy to gaslight myself into being straight . I know this because unfortunately I’ve done it 7301965 times and it hasn’t worked any of them..

It’s not “americans” okay? There are some of us who are fucking devastated by this. I’m gay, and I have friends who are too. Some of the most important people in the world to me are Hispanic, female, and/or transgender. And I’m fucking terrified for them. I’m terrified for myself. So everyone saying “americans” suck and that they’re disgusted can go fuck themselves, cause I’m disgusted too. If you think people like me chose this, this is the last thing any of us wanted. And I have to go to school today and be surrounded by people who hate queer people and I have to hold it together. Cause I shouldn’t show emotion cause that’s “feminine” and “weak” and I’m already fucking gay so why would I add to that? There’s a pit in my stomach. And the way this works is I’m queer first, an American second, cause that’s what I’ll be given shit for. That’s what’ll matter when it comes down to it. Being american won’t protect me when they decide coming after trans people isn’t enough, that the whole LGBT community is a “problem”. The worst part is I had hope. I don’t know why, but I thought that maybe it wouldn’t turn out like this, and now I’m fucking heartbroken. 

A fuck-you to RFK;

An autistic person will never write a poem, so everything I’ve ever written doesn’t exist. It’s just shit. 

They will never play baseball, so my memories of playing a game with my friends don’t mean anything. I never played a game I loved, a game I was damn good at. It was all a figment of my wild imagination. 

They’ll never hold a job, so there are thousands of doctors and scientists and engineers who aren’t real to him. 

Autism destroys families, so no matter what mine says, they’re lying. They don’t love me. Rather than death or illness, my mind is what will ruin it all. Even though we’ve been happy for 17 years so far. 

It’s an individual tragedy as well, which must mean that me and my bestfriends’ lives are meaningless. A waste of space. Of oxygen. 

Fucking hell.

If RFK (a man stuck in ‘55) gets his way, this police state that we’re living in will just get worse. He wants to use his research to make eugenics America’s policy. That’s what “curing” autism is. There is no cure. There’s only death. Death that should never even be a possibility. A thought. 

No one should be persecuted, or have their genes “eliminated” from the gene pool because of some uneducated twat. He doesn’t get to decide who will be born. He doesn’t get to manufacture the next generation like this is some kind of fascist, Nazi regime. Even in the most clinically “severe” cases, an autistic person is far from stupid or helpless. They are We are people, like everyone else. And it’s not our fault he doesn’t know that. 

Told myself I wouldn’t post before the thing I wrote for xmas, but here we are…

I think I’m in love with someone I shouldn’t know how to be. And it’s driving me fucking crazy. It’s only you. And when you’re venting at 7:32, telling me how much you just wanna die, I think I lose a part of myself. I’m listening to that band we both like, unromanticizing all the shit I used to dream about. This is your second favorite song by them. It’s my favorite cause it makes me think about you. I like your company. That’s all I can say without giving myself away. Cause if I was honest, I’d say step off the ledge. Why? Cause I fucking love you man. Maybe you don’t care (about me and/or you). Maybe you don’t even like me. But if you kill yourself, I don’t think I’ll ever really breathe in again. You’re the best friend I’ve (n)ever had. 

‘If you’re the only one who knows the truth, only you can hurt yourself’

The city is endless and it is dark.  When there’s nowhere left for me to run,  the city holds me in its arms.  All I’ve ever asked of it was for a ‘’safe place’’ to fall apart. Drowning in the reservoir,  if I go too deep into my mind.  An optical illusion you can only see  if you’re on the inside (---in on the joke.) Ha ha ha. Laughing at me, a thousand smiling faces— a thousand more memories. There’s something hiding in the shadows,  in a corner.  In my closet,  behind a shelf.  This is why  I keep all the mirrors locked up. It can't hurt you if its not really there Scratch it out, scratch it out, scratch it— The record skips again, passing me over  for the eight thousand, six hundred, and forty ninth time. All I want is.. a second chance? A do over–again and again, Like an infinite loop inside my messed up head. ‘’Don't you think you'd be better off like the living dead?’’ Paranoia follows in my footsteps, A stalker in the night. He can never hope to catch up to me. I live in his house in the daylight. When the sun sets I sleep in the crowded streets. Begging for scraps of meat. Won't you grant me a sweet relief? I promise I’ll stay by your side,  day and night.  Like the hound that haunts you/Is this  what it feels like to know  Nobody wants you?

Vivienne Westwood