Procrastination Station

I love my job, but reblogging employment jelly for someone else I love.

The fact this isn't a painting is a testament to one of the greatest feats of set design and production I've ever seen.

do it weird do it scared do it shy do it anxious do it lonely do it cautious do it with shaking hands. but do it.

 when sylvia plath wrote “the silence depressed me. it wasn’t the silence of silence. it was my own silence.” and when anne carson wrote “why does tragedy exist? because you are full of rage. why are you full of rage? because you are full of grief.” and when jenny slate wrote “and i am getting older but i am not growing up and my heart is getting soft dark spots on it like a fruit that has gone bad.” and when virginia woolf wrote “to want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain.” and when susanna kaysen wrote “when you’re sad, you need to hear your sorrow structured into sound.” and when margaret atwood wrote “already my childhood seemed far away – a remote age, faded and bittersweet, like dried flowers. did i regret its loss, did i want it back? i didn’t think so…” and when gillian flynn wrote “i was not a lovable child, and i’d grown into a deeply unlovable adult.”

It's kinda shocking that it took 5 years for me to heal from not only becoming bipolar but all the trauma that led up to it and achieve the same level of independence I had before I had my first manic episode. I think it's tempting to look at that time as "lost" or having no meaning but in those five years I learned how to heal, learned to cope with loss, learned how to navigate my symptoms, learned to navigate healthcare providers, learned how to reestablish my career and social connections after a setback, and I overall just learned to persevere. I've been stuck in a rut recently in terms of achieving my goals and I've come to the conclusion that there is no universal metric we can judge progress by. Sometimes we go through the summers of life, where there is prosperity and growth and positive change, and sometimes we go through the winter periods where things feel stagnant because not much is happening. This is false. You're nourishing yourself. You're taking time to heal. You're preparing for future growth. And those are all significant things, although unmeasurable. So if you're going through a winter period right now in terms of self actualization, just take heart that eventually the weather will change.

ID: A screencap of a poem, Staircase wit by Rhiannon McGavin. It reads: It's spring & everyone's joking about killing themselves again. You're getting better at moving through different cities without your eyes tapped to the blue dot of your being on the phone's map. Anywhere you go it seems you just missed the cherry blossoms, dead receipts of petals on the ground, but you've never had a cleaner sense of direction. The cynicism has limped so far back around that you can take inspiration from hot sauce packets. You would like to live more. You've got a face to make in the mirror to check that you're cute. You're at the age where you explain your politics naked about once a week. You are of the age where the mass murderers also grew up with mass murder drills. Traces of carbon-14 thread the cells of everybody you've ever known & everyone you'll never meet because you're alive in the same world as atom bombs. You walk clutching your own hand like a splintered banister. Born as you were into real life at the top of the century, the future's headlines rise as water or ash or something else hard to breathe through. You know what to say now. You've heard it's too late.

What the fuck do you mean watercolour on paper

daydreaming is often a coping mechanism for people who are often lonely or don’t receive a good amount of love in their life, so they make people inside their heads that will love them so they can feel the right amount of love.

i think as adults it's our responsibility to be nice to kids and treat them with the respect we wish we got at that age and im not kidding or exaggerating in the least