#depressiontw

these songs are about the danger, toxicity and depression of junko enoshima.

1. Guiltless(dodie) 

this one is about how junko is a fuckin’ terrible person does what she does, and thinks she is free of fuckin’ guilt.

2.  Locket(Crumb)

this one is about how despair can feel like you’re just floating in fuckin’ space. 

3. Goodbye, Ms. Floral Thief(Mel)

mod kyoko recommended this one for this list, when you first see junko she seems fuckin’ happy, just like this song, but once you look into both, you will find a fucked up version of a person that enjoys using people and throwing them away.

4.  La vie en rose(Édith Piaf)

although this song is about love and everything being around someone producing happiness. the song, if put in junko’s perspective, fuckin’ changes. the song can now be seen as everything being what you would want to surround you, not as much the feelings they give. another way, is if you bring the poor, poor remnants into it, they were forced to fuckin’ fall in love with her, to see her as the best thing ever, to see her “in pink”, as lovely as she wants.

5. Sticks and Stones(The Pierces)

I’ve been living with my best friend for about 6 months, and today for the first time in that period my Depression decided to make a DAY OF IT— lethargy, nonstop crying in the fetal position, suicidal ideation, the whole nine. I didn’t want him to see me crying because he’s afraid of emotions (LOL good luck being my friend then) so every attempt he made to break through my fog by asking me if I wanted something to eat, wanted to do some yoga, or maybe just sit up and drink some water, was met with a sobby “no thanks” and me rolling over to the opposite fetal position. For HOURS. I DID NOT KNOW PEOPLE HAD THAT MANY TEARS INSIDE THEM. MY BEDSHEETS WILL NEVER NOT BE SALTY.

Here’s where it gets good: Michael somehow knew the normal stuff wasn’t going to work this time— he’d seen me cry before and be down about stuff before but this was just an ugly monster surrounding me with an airtight seal of worthlessness. NOTHING could get through it on his end, so he knew he needed to help me break it myself. He comes to my door, ready to leave for work, with a bowl of eggs he made me that he’s sure I won’t eat; that’s okay, he says, if you can’t eat them I’ll have them when I get home. I literally could barely get the word “thanks” to come out of me because what’s the point? He’ll just come home and get upset that I didn’t even try to eat them and then he’ll feel unappreciated even though he’s trying hard to help, and I’ll just get sadder and feel more worthless because I can’t even express to him that this monster isn’t his fault or his responsibility. I began to feel the WHOOSH of another giant wave of self-pity, the tears were hot in my eyes— when he says, “I also made you some bacon. It’s not done yet but I have to leave for work. You HAVE to go into the kitchen and get it at some point or the apartment will burn down. I love you.”