To be or not to be?

Dear every person who says that a mental illness is not a valid reason for not being able to attend school normally, Say that to the counselor, the school nurse, the paramedics, and the friend who walked me to the office on the day of my overdose. Say that to the kids who saw me sleep through first and second period. Say that to the boy who sleeps in every class. Tell that to my teacher who had to talk me out of suicide on a school night. Tell that to my bio teacher who saw me break down during a suicide prevention assembly. Tell that to the housemates who have heard me call the suicide hotlines. Tell that to my freshman English teacher who tells me I look so alive now in comparison to how dead I looked freshman year. Say that to any friend who has had to talk me out of suicide. Say that to any friend who has had to calm me down after an anxiety attack. Say that to every friend and follower that has come to me with thoughts of suicide. Tell that to the kids who have failing grades because they can’t focus, the ones who can’t make it through a school night without having an anxiety attack, the kids who sleep right when they get home and straight on until morning, the ones who have more breakdowns a day than meals a day, the ones who have spent more time staring at hospital walls than school hallways. Tell that to the kids who cry every night. Tell that to the teenagers in psychiatric wards and treatment centers. Tell that to the family of someone who has just committed suicide. Tell them that school is more important than their sanity.

RARE HISTORIC PHOTOS WE MIGHT HAVEN’T YET SEEN

no offense but i need everyone to stop saying that “we survived” bad presidents before. like, i get it, the country has weathered people like andrew jackson and ronald reagan and will probably weather trump. but when you say “we survived” andrew jackson? tell that to the 4000 (of 16000) cherokee who died on the trail of tears. “we survived” ronald reagan? tell that to the 650,000 americans who have died of aids– a national health crisis which reagan refused to even recognize? 

It’s not just Trump that gained power tonight.

Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life - and travel - leaves marks on you. Most of the time, those marks - on your body or on your heart - are beautiful. Often, though, they hurt.

I am pressed so hard against the earth by the weight of reality that some days I wonder how I am still able to lift my feet to walk.

"A Good Day," Kait Rokowski

I pay too much attention to the details without actually paying attention to the details. The curves and wrinkles in my palm can’t tell me that you love me even if they spell it out it won’t be true. I want to make something out of nothing, that’s a given. I gave you a lot. You know… I was sad so I painted my walls hot pink I was sad so I painted my nails hot pink I was sad so I painted my arms hot pink I was sad. So I did something. My mom doesn’t think I’m depressed, She doesn’t see it. My school counselor asked me if I still wanna live. My English teacher gave me hug then told me I needed it. I needed it. She gave me something. My bedroom feels more like a cemetery than forest lawn ever will. Your name sounds like an apology. One that I know my father will never give. Is it still considered murder if they aren’t actually doing the killing? Is it still considered suicidal tendencies if it’s your daily routines? My name rings close to “please get the fuck away from me” and “I never want anything to do with you every again” more than it does the to fine print on my birth certificate. You are home. It’s just I’m scared you might have changed the doorbell and my knuckles can’t pound on anything els anymore. I’ll wait on the porch. I’ll wait. Mountains sometimes move themselves. You’re nothing more than a object floating on a object floating on a object. We’re just something. somethings.

I wonder how many people would have fallen in love if they had only spoken to each other. Strangers sitting next to each other on an airplane at night, watching the world grow smaller beneath them. Or in a tiny bookstore filled with old stories, their pages yellowed and dusty with age. Or sitting next to each other at a concert, both wanting to linger in the same note of a song that they think contains a universe. How many strangers have shared lovely, beautiful moments together? How many people would have found the love of their life if they had decided to say something?