I’m a fountain!
Photo by Mario Moreno
|—||Osho (via ohmothernature)|
in bathtubs full of
|—||Charles Bukowski (via genesus)|
And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.
remember when i thought i only liked boys
remember when i thought i only liked girls
remember when i was under the delusion that my sexuality was anything that could be explained without getting extremely flustered and ending up shouting “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ARE CUTE AND IT MAKES ME UPSET”
This is amazing.