Right now you might not feel the best you've ever felt, you might feel that things will never get better. But don't give up. Tomorrow you might see something wonderful. The thing you're worrying about may be resolved. You might have a good day tomorrow, you may smile. In a few years time the things that are making you feel like this, will be forgotten about.

I gave you two months
and thirty six chances
four hundred and seven tears
I gave you my insecurities
and my neck 
and my backseat 
I gave you words you wanted to hear
but I meant them 
all of them 
I gave you words you didn’t want to hear
but needed to
and I meant them 
I gave you twenty seven dollars worth of gas
and six hundred and eighty six miles on my car
and five Saturday nights
and I gave you trust
I gave you faith
and everybody said you wouldn’t give me anything
and I shushed them 
but I shouldn’t have
because I don’t know if you can’t 
or you won’t 
but you haven’t given me
a hand to hold 
or a person to call
or a grilled cheese 
or any sweet words
or comfort 
and I don’t have anything left to give 
but I wanted to give you everything.

Every once in a while, I go through these phases where I just sort of fall off the face of the earth.

I pretty much just quit talking to everyone almost completely.

It’s not intentional at all though, just sort of happens. Usually everybody I know ends up thinking I’m upset and want to have nothing to do with them. This isn’t the case at all. Sometimes I just need my space and it would be nice if they at least understood that.

Im running on empty. And I have no idea how to get full again. It just feels like Im wasting more gas rather than saving it. Because Im expecting way too much from something that can’t give me any of it.

There’s that type of anger that you can’t explain to anyone. You can’t describe to them just how infuriated and enraged you are inside, how your blood boils at the thought, and how you wish you just never met certain people. People who never did admit what they did to you, how they portrayed you, how they set out to ruin you. How do you explain that type of anger to people? How do you explain that kind of betrayal to people? You can’t. You can’t explain it without seeming bitter, seeming crazy. You can’t describe it without people giving you the speech of ‘do not let it have power over you’ or ‘do not let it consume you’ because that’s the type of thing that people who don’t understand do say. Like you’re not allowed to feel this way. As if you’re not entitled to feel this way. They don’t understand so why bother wasting your breath?

Bounding.

It’s been awhile since I’ve poured my heart out. It’s been awhile since I’ve sat down and thought things through. It’s been awhile since I’ve been alone with my thoughts, surrounded with nothing but silence. I’ve been on the go, kept busy, kept my mind busy, kept my hands occupied, kept my thoughts focused. Because it’s easier to keep my feelings in check when I’m.. busy. But then I start to ignore the phase I find myself settling into again. That deep crevice in the portrait of my life that I try so hard to jump over so many times, but then find myself swallowed into it once in awhile. That dark crack in what seems to be a perfect, flat land that I sometimes have to claw myself out of. I never realize how deep I am in that crevice because my eyes are kept upward, paying attention to what’s happening above me. And then I finally get a moment to look down.. realizing that I am far too deep with paranoia settling in that if my foot slips, I will fall until I can no longer see above me.

Some people have a legitimate reason to feel depressed, but not me. I just woke up one day feeling sad and helpless for absolutely no reason.

It's disappointing to feel sad for no reason. Sadness can be almost pleasantly indulgent when you have a way to justify it - you can listen to sad music and imagine yourself as the protagonist in a dramatic movie. You can gaze out the window while you're crying and think "This is so sad. I can't even believe how sad this whole situation is. I bet even a reenactment of my sadness could bring an entire theater audience to tears."But my sadness didn't have a purpose.  Listening to sad music and imagining that my life was a movie just made me feel kind of weird because I couldn't really get behind the idea of a movie where the character is sad for no reason.

Essentially, I was being robbed of my right to feel self pity, which is the only redeeming part of sadness.And for a little bit, that was a good enough reason to pity myself.

Standing around feeling sorry for myself was momentarily exhilarating, but I grew tired of it quickly. "That will do," I thought. "I've had my fun, let's move on to something else now." But the sadness didn't go away.I tried to force myself to not be sad.

But trying to use willpower to overcome the apathetic sort of sadness that accompanies depression is like a person with no arms trying to punch themselves until their hands grow back.  A fundamental component of the plan is missing and it isn't going to work. 

When I couldn't will myself to not be sad, I became frustrated and angry. In a final, desperate attempt to regain power over myself, I turned to shame as a sort of motivational tool.

But, since I was depressed, this tactic was less inspirational and more just a way to oppress myself with hatred.

Which made me more sad. 

Which then made me more frustrated and abusive.

And that made me even more sad, and so on and so forth until the only way to adequately express my sadness was to crawl very slowly across the floor.

The self-loathing and shame had ceased to be even slightly productive, but it was too late to go back at that point, so I just kept going. I followed myself around like a bully, narrating my thoughts and actions with a constant stream of abuse.

I spent months shut in my house, surfing the internet on top of a pile of my own dirty laundry which I set on the couch for "just a second" because I experienced a sudden moment of apathy on my way to the washer and couldn't continue. And then, two weeks later, I still hadn't completed that journey. But who cares - it wasn't like I had been showering regularly and sitting on a pile of clothes isn't necessarily uncomfortable. But even if it was, I couldn't feel anything through the self hatred anyway, so it didn't matter. JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE.

Slowly, my feelings started to shrivel up. The few that managed to survive the constant beatings staggered around like wounded baby deer, just biding their time until they could die and join all the other carcasses strewn across the wasteland of my soul.I couldn't even muster up the enthusiasm to hate myself anymore.

I just drifted around, completely unsure of what I was feeling or whether I could actually feel anything at all.

If my life was a movie, the turning point of my depression would have been inspirational and meaningful. It would have involved wisdom-filled epiphanies about discovering my true self and I would conquer my demons and go on to live out the rest of my life in happiness.Instead, my turning point mostly hinged upon the fact that I had rented some movies and then I didn't return them for too long.The late fees had reached the point where the injustice of paying any more than I already owed outweighed my apathy. I considered just keeping the movies and never going to the video store again, but then I remembered that I still wanted to re-watch Jumanji.I put on some clothes, put the movies in my backpack and biked to the video store. It was the slowest, most resentful bike ride ever.

And when I arrived, I found out that they didn't even have Jumanji in.Just as I was debating whether I should settle on a movie that wasn't Jumanji or go home and stare in abject silence, I noticed a woman looking at me weirdly from a couple rows over.

She was probably looking at me that way because I looked really, really depressed and I was dressed like an eskimo vagrant.Normally, I would have felt an instant, crushing sense of self-consciousness, but instead, I felt nothing.

I've always wanted to not give a fuck. While crying helplessly into my pillow for no good reason, I would often fantasize that maybe someday I could be one of those stoic badasses whose emotions are mostly comprised of rock music and not being afraid of things. And finally - finally - after a lifetime of feelings and anxiety and more feelings, I didn't have any feelings left. I had spent my last feeling being disappointed that I couldn't rent Jumanji.I felt invincible.

And thus began a tiny rebellion.

Then I swooped out of there like the Batman and biked home in a blaze of defiant glory.

And that's how my depression got so horrible that it actually broke through to the other side and became a sort of fear-proof exoskeleton.

Running..

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you’re just running? And you have absolutely no idea what you’re running to. But no matter how many far you run it’s still the same environment, the same surroundings. And you just can’t escape, no matter how much faster you run or how much farther you run. And you find yourself breathless, but you just won’t stop. You can’t stop. You don’t want to stop. Because if you dare to stop then you become stuck. Stuck in the middle of nowhere. Helpless and vulnerable. You can’t yell for help, you can’t break down and cry, because no one will hear you. You’re just this helpless human being in the midst of nothing, in the middle of nowhere.

It is what it is.

Things I like about coffee:

• Coffee is hot.
• Coffee makes me excited.
• Coffee is good enough to have everyday.
• Coffee smells good.
• Coffee makes me nervous sometimes.
• Coffee gives me the warm and fuzzies.
• Even when coffee is too sweet or weak, its still good.

Things I like about you:

• Pretty much the same thing as coffee.
• And who knows, maybe you taste good and will keep me up all night too.

Keep your feet on the ground when your head's in the clouds.

If it's not real, you can't hold it in your hand, you can't feel it with your heart and I won't believe it. 

But if it's true, you can see it with your eyes, even in the dark and that's where I want to be.

I have no idea how it feels to be utterly loved.

I am the place a person falls to when life gets hard. I am the shoulder, the keeper of secrets, the kindness through their pain. I am the wisdom, the knowledge, the prophet when everything goes wrong.

Like I said, I have no idea how it feels to be utterly loved.

I notice everything.

And by everything, I literally mean everything. I notice when someone stops texting like they used to. I notice when the way someone talks to me starts changing. I notice the little things that people do, and the little things they used to do. I notice when things change, and when it’s no longer the same. I notice every single little detail. I just don’t say anything.

The Voice

There Is A Voice Inside Of You 
That Whispers All Day Long, 
"I Feel That This Is Right For Me, 
I Know That This Is Wrong."
 No Teacher, Preacher, Parent, Friend 
Or Wise Man Can Decide What's Right For You-
Just Listen To The Voice That Speaks Inside.

The Upsides:

1. The sun rises every morning.
2. Hope gets lost, but it never dies.
3. The smell after a storm.
4. Seasons change.
5. You have a soulmate somewhere out there.
6. Miracles are real.
7. Theres beauty in everything.
8. You're breathing.
9. Love is eternal.
10. You're never as alone as you think you are.

I wrote a song:

I’m here, I’m here I’m underneath your skin. 
You can’t feel me cause I refuse to let you in. 
Writer, fighter, burnt down, collider. 
I’m a little bird parched out here, don’t wanna disappear.

And all things in my life may go, but I’ll save art, I can’t lose van gogh 

Make me love you make love you cause I won’t.
Make me know you make me know you cause I don’t. 
I’m no winner, a beginner at sticking these things through, but I’m for you. 

Forget, forget the reason and the rhyme. 
I swear I try to tell myself this all the time. 
The second I, open my eyes and wake.
It’s like I can’t see me without a double take.

I can’t wait until I’m old, because I’m young I’m not controlled. 
Can’t you see, I must free, I do what my mind is told.

Find the Fault.

Our greatest enemy is ourselves,
But of course, you have probably already heard this.
Someone, not too long ago, made mention of this fact.
But we never did believe it.
Because how could I ever be the obstacle that stops me from being the best?
Sometimes I believe I can get things done.
Sometimes I believe I am the best.
Sometimes I believe I am good enough.
But then again, I guess that is the problem,
I only believe in myself sometimes.

Music.

You know the music at the end of movies when the protagonist is walking to make things right?
I want that music to play at my graduation celebration, my potential wedding, my funeral, and my fore-comings into heaven.
The music that initially tells you the movie is over, but grasps you until the final credits have rolled.
The music that can tell you that the war was won, and the protagonist is leaving for bigger and better things.
The music that tells you that someone will soon fall in love.
The music that is often times mimicked but can never be touched.
The music that is what my life will soon be.
The music that tells you that hard work has payed off.
The music that tells you that the experience the protagonist just went through was not only unrealistic but completely over-exaggerated.


The music that as soon as it reaches your ears you consumed with a feeling of joy and relief.
The music that has become a theme to my stride.

Let it be known.

I make it an effort to make myself known; that you know Im here.

Refuse to be placed on a back burner and immediately forgotten; out of sight, out of mind.

To feel the way that I feel is something you will never know; I would never ignore you.

Be it as it may, I still can't help but hurt because of your ignorance and abandonment.

Irrelevant are my feelings because you stopped caring a long time ago.

This world isn't cutting it.

In a dreamworld..
I would be you, 
you would be me, 
we would be one, 
we would be just fine. 
In a perfect world, disrespect wouldn't be an option. 
Equality wouldn't be questioned, 
and actions, wouldn't be judged. 

I spend my days searching for a world where no matter what, people adapt. 
Go with the way things are handed to them. 
A world where love surrounds all things and all people. 
A world where no one would take a second look, no one would second guess. 
Everyone craves acceptance, and I wish I could give it to everyone. 

I don't know the purpose of this, 
but I do know that I have great hope for the future. 

This is you.

You are the pilot, and the voice of the story. You are the one who creates and tells the stories for those who could not be there. You are unable to be comforted but wish to comfort others. There is a great something missing in your life. Do not forget that you are much loved. Let your sorrow be comforted…

Mistakes aren't always regrets.

We are terrible for each other, and yes, we are a disaster. But tell me your heart does not race for a hurricane or a burning building.

I would rather die terrified than live forever.

Some things are quite hard to say..

Guess which ones are my footsteps. Can you tell the difference between my footsteps and the footsteps that belong a million other people? You can’t, can you? This just goes to show that you may remember me for a minute, but soon forget about me because there’s a million people out there who can probably treat you better than I ever did and love you harder than I ever had. Don’t ever lose hope. If you ever lose my footprints in the sand, just know there are a million more to keep you company.

I was asked: You always seem to impress me with how introspective you are - how you're able to articulate how you feel. Why do you think that is?

I guess spending so much time in your own head brings about this sort of rawness in you. When you feel like this, you always imagine what you'd say to someone if you could get the words out. But you never do. So you carry them around with you, day in and day out. The secrets become apart of you.

I'm not who I used to be.

Why? 
Because I've been hurt. Ive gone through a lot of shit which has made me who I am today. Over these past years, so many things have happened, things that have change who I used to be.. little things, big things, everything. As time passes, no one person stays the same. People tell me that Ive changed.. don't you think I know that? Of course Ive changed, Im not going to stay the same person forever. Pain does that to people.

Have you ever missed someone so much it hurt?

I mean, It seriously pained you to be awake. You start to feel nauseous when you think of the person. You get a headache, your heart beats so hard it feels like it’s going to just come right out of your chest. It hurts your mouth to smile. Your body feels like it’s shutting down. You just want to curl up in a ball and cry. 

You just want to die.