They broke up. Yes. That is the truth. The tragic truth. Tragic with a capital T. There will most likely be song references in the whole website, I'm like that. If you didn't get that one, go listen to Kill All Your Friends. As in now. As in before the website is finished please? Anyway. Their memory WILL carry on. Trust me *mpwah*. Told you song references. In our hearts. While they brought us their bullets, we brought them our love and adoration and (wink) fangirling. 3 cheers for sweet revenge indeed. The Black Parade marches on in our hearts. Though they're dead, the killjoys fight their battle for freedom in our ears as Danger Days plays. Now I know somebody out there will agree with me on this, and I know what she looks like too. xXxTheBlackParadexXx, you'll be reading this, I know, and I know this is true for you too. Come on kiddies, raise your hand if MCR saved your life. *Raises hand*. And if they saved you on more than one ocassion? Raise as many limbs as times they've saved you, sillies! *Tries to raise a limb for every single fucking night*. Oh dear this isn't working, is it? I'm afraid we'll just have to say they saved my life every fucking night. Yes, I'm depressed. Yes, I'm suicidal. Yes, I cut. Yes, I have started suicide attempts only to be reminded that their music gives me something to live for, something to look forward to after school, something to drain the pain with. But cutting is as far as I've gone. Well, I'm a cutting kind of person. People have their own type of self harm that works best for them, you know? And that's all thanks to you, MCR. So I'm thanking you on behalf of all my family, and my one real life friend. Who's probably reading this too. If you are, so you know it's me, I looked up depression and got a picture of L. There you should know who it is now. But the point I'm trying to make here with all the self harm and suicide rambling is that MCR will never be forgotten. There will always be a CD or record or whatever in the back room of a music store somewhere. They will march on in our hearts. With every piece of unicorn fanart drawn for Mikey, every secret flipping off of someone for Frank, every art project dedicated to Gerard, every fro joke for Ray, even being obsessed with the name Bob for (guess who?) Bob. Every single thing we do while loving them, every single time we draw a killjoy spider on out arms, every time we follow the 10 Commandments of The Chemical Romance, every time we sit down at our piano, or with our bass or guitar, or put our flute or whatever to our lips, hold our drumsticks in our hands and play any song a little bit of loyalty is added onto the pile of hearts and minds and dreams that is the MCRmy. They will never truly die. I promise. We will raise our children on their music, just as our parents raised us on their's. Anybody else who's first favourite was Nirvana, hi-5. But what I'm getting at is carry on the legacy, pass on the word, play the goddamn records to your cat. I don't care, just ensure that this band will never die. Ever. Never will this bunch of motherfuckers from New Jersey pass on into the next world, not wholly. Killjoys NEVER die. Killjoys NUNQUAM mortis. And don't EVER be afraid to be who you are. It might be hard. Trust me, I know. Fuck it all, I know how hard it is. But if anyone ever tells you you can't do something, laugh and spit in their face. Somebody pushing you around? Who cares how much trouble you get in, flip them the hell of. Give them the bird. Give 'em hell, kid.