Cupid💘🏹

I'm doing it again.

Stop counting the relapses and stop worshipping the time you have without them. Just keeping getting back up. You just keep getting back up. Now that is recovery!

Sometimes there’s this quiet, confusing urge to feel worse, like if things got bad enough, then it would finally make sense. Like your pain would be visible, undeniable. Like people would take it seriously, or you would be allowed to take yourself seriously without second-guessing it.

Cry your grief to God. Howl to the heavens. Tear your shirt. Your hair. Your flesh. Gouge out your eyes. Carve out your heart. And what will you get from Him? Only silence. Indifference. But merely stand looking at the playbills, sighing because your name is not on them, and the devil himself appears at your elbow full of sympathy and suggestions. And that's why I did it....Because God loves us, but the devil takes an interest. ― Jennifer Donnelly, Revolution

“I don’t like hope very much. In fact, I hate it. It’s the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard. It’s bad news. The worst. It’s sharp sticks and cherry bombs. When hope shows up, it’s only a matter of time until someone gets hurt.”

It's been months since I last picked up a book and dedicate mýself to reading it. I'm rereading Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly (a fave!!!) and I love the songs the characters wrote.

"I'm wishing that he could see that music lives. Forever. That it's stronger than death. Stronger than time. And that its strength holds you together when nothing else can."

For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.