Depression and Desire-Jamie Tworkowski @twloha
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Depression and Desire-Jamie Tworkowski @twloha
Love is not a thing, it is not lost when given.
Leo Buscaglia (via twloha)
Breathe deep from this spot, fill your lungs with calm, with the understanding that after the longest Winter, Spring will return. I never knew I was made of such endurance. #tylerknott
Forgive my falling if it should bring me too low; forgive this aching.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson
Chasers of the Light & All The Words Are Yours are Out Now!
(via tylerknott)
Another collaboration with the folks at @thoughtcatalog and this one, if I am honest, is an important one. Please go here to read it: http://tcat.tc/1K5o6DE
I wrote this a bit ago and I wrote it during a hard time, a hit bottom kind of time, that I think many people, many of you, have been in or are in or could be in from time to time. I wrote it to show how low we can go and still rise from, how far down we can fall and still see light. We are all going to be empty, completely, in our lives at some point…what matters is how we fill ourselves up when we get there. What matters is That we fill ourselves up. I read this now and remember, exquisitely precise, how it felt being there. I read this now and feel proud and thankful for allowing myself to be just rubber enough to bounce back from it. I hope you find hope in knowing someone else has been there too. Someone else has risen. #tylerknott #thoughtcatalog #longform
This article is an incredible read. If you're going through something, treat yourself and take the time to read this and know you're not alone
There are many nights when my heart is heavier than the body it sleeps in. A longing, a focus in loneliness, the never-ending desire to see breaths rise and fall under the bedsheets beside you. It is easy to get tangled up in the things that are missing. When the silence settles around you and the sadness sneaks in, reminding you that you can never really shake it off entirely. It may take a leave of absence, but it will always return at some point and all you can do is mentally attempt to keep your emotional head above water well enough to keep you in the shallow end of suicide.
21/5/15
There are nights when sleep is stolen and days that are stolen by sleep. There are soul searching questions and questions searching for souls. There are times in the quiet moments when loneliness is louder than love; when the darkness swallows the light. It is easy to get buried in the weight of it. Your heart like an anchor to the past, tied to ghosts.
We all have things we want to let go of, and ways we prefer to do it. Slipping out the back door at night to run away into the silence and the sparkle of the stars. Giving ourselves entirely to another, losing ourselves to the closed eyes and sexual embrace of a lover. The days lost to staying in bed. The warmth of a strong drink, and the feeling of the alcohol sneaking back up your throat and forming a burning lump sleeping beneath your collar bone when you’ve had too much. The pulsing of club music echoing in your ears, or the sound of bar banter in the background of a game of pool with friends. The sobs that come when the dam finally bursts and the tears flow, uncontrollable and inconsolable for the few minutes before you go back to the routine, The weightless feeling of your body in open water, how it feels on your skin as you move through it with such grace. The smell of a freshly sparked joint, the way it lets the world feel softer-childproofing the sharp edges of life so they dont hurt so much. The way a good book feels like your story, feels like home. The lyrics that describe your life to a t. The freedom that exists in car dancing and turning up the music loud enough to drown out your singing (which, at this volume, is more shouting than singing). The way paint mixes with the brush, watching the colours swirl and get eaten up by each other until they form something new, something neither of them could be without the other, before moving to their final home on the canvas; where they’ll live forever on your wall, or collecting dust in the corner of your garage. The sweat that appears on your face as your lungs burn (and try to scream bloody murder, but there just isnt enough air) as you run, chasing out the pain (or running away from it). The confession over coffee with a friend. The thrill of going somewhere new, knowing there’s always the opportunity to change, the chance at a clean slate, the possibility to change everything about yourself and completely alter your life. There’s always the option for a new beginning when faced with an ending
i deserve to be more than a faceless woman of the night.
i deserve to love and be loved. i deserve to be known and to know.
19/11/2014
Her lips dance with lust and secrets your soul will never see.
your heart has shadows, old ghosts that haunt your head; shadows your soul can’t shake. there are voices that narrate the movies of your memories, voices of the people who have let go of your life. there are feelings you will never forget, for better or worse. there is unforgettable laughter and unfathomable pain in every good story and your mind whispers -not every honest story has a hero- to keep you from looking for salvation from someone other than yourself.
love knows more. love knows so much more than loneliness, so much more than hesitation. so much more than regret. love knows dreams and desires. love knows compassion and community. love knows light in the darkness. love knows more; but loneliness lives louder. screaming into the darkness unable to find freedom. there are kisses that steal your sleep. there are nightmares left to be lived. your heart can’t stay hollow forever. there will always be moments that are heavy and moments that are light. there is room in your heart for both. you are capable of such great things. stop standing in the way.