It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.
I don't know how I look, but I know how I feel: Young. Goofy. Infinite.
You can't know what an experience will mean to future-you until you are future-you. You need millions of seconds of perspective, which ultimately, only time can buy.
For me, at least, fiction is the only way i can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.
Still, what could i say? that i didn't just feel depressed - instead, it was like the depression was the core of me, of every part of me, from my mind to my bones? that if he got blue, i got black? th...
Depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying.
You're both the fire and the water that extinguishes it. You're the narrator, the protagonist, and the sidekick. You're the storyteller and the story told. You are somebody's something, but you are al...
Witness also that when we talk about literature, we do so in the present tense. When we speak of the dead, we are not so kind.
The way I figure it, everyone gets a miracle. Like, I will probably never be struck by lightening, or win a Nobel Prize, or become the dictator of a small nation in the Pacific Islands, or contract te...
That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.
Me: I refuse to attend Support Group.Mom: One of the symptoms of depression is disinterest in activities.Me: Please just let me watch America’s Next Top Model. It’s an activity.Mom: Television is a pa...
It sounded like a dragon breathing in time with me, like I had this pet dragon who was cuddled up next to me and cared enough about me to time his breaths to mine.
If you don't live a life in service of a greater good, you've gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know? And I fear that I won't get either a life or a death that means anythin...
I'm not asexual. I'm arelationshipal.
I fear oblivion
Because you're my friend, wingnut.
They love their hair because they're not smart enough to love anything more interesting
Rabe'a al-Adiwiyah, a great woman saint of Sufism, was seen running through the streets of her hometown, Basra, carrying a torch in one hand and a bucket of water in the other. When someone asked her...
If people could see me the way I see myself - if they could live in my memories - would anyone love me?
I'm so proud of you that it makes me proud of me. I hope you know that.