мне нету солнца

/there is no sun for me

[childmagazine]

[reuniting-deactivated20150509]

[tethea]

Here there are a thousand minds a thousand lights a thousand worlds lining walls like tiles or stained glass windows and your mind moves through them like a fish through a reef shiny and graceful and quick effortless and at the same time it is in the center it is the center and I want nothing other than to explore it and it alone

A.O.A.M. || Library Love Poem (via tethea)

[softwaring]

[matissy]

Tess Johnson

[latenightcornerstore]

In the moment after I am finally diagnosed with depression, the ocean in my skull learns to be still. All the noise narrows down to TV static. Ten years of empty click-click-clicks into place.   Suddenly, there is a reason.   Ten steps backward. I am a child all over again. They tell me depression is a storm cloud on a string. They tell me people have to choose sunlight.   I do not understand why anyone would ever choose the storm.   Now, I am twenty-three years old learning the hard way that depression is more constant than any weather patterns. Hurricanes admire its tenacity. Heat waves wish they could mimic its permanence. Depression is not a tropical storm, it’s a hard frost.   Nothing green can grow here.

WHEN THE MEDS STOP WORKING by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

[sevgiliplath]

[nitrqin]

IG - @matthew.shaww

[melisica]

[angry-comics]

[notacasualobservor]

I’m trying not to stare but it’s hard. I wish the world would stick like a clock so I could look at him for as long as I want. There’ something going on in his face right now, something very bright trying to get out - a dam keeping back a wall of light. His soul might the a sun. I’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul.

I’ll Give You the Sun // Jandy Nelson (via notacasualobservor)

[tripppmag-deactivated20181130]

[stylelistics-deactivated2020031]

[untrustyou]

[spilledmyink-blog]

I am quiet, yes. It is a held truth. However, I am also wild. I am also free. My soul is fire; my mind embodies a storm. My silence is a deafening scream. I ache to be heard. Not for fame, I’ve never enjoyed spotlights. Most have missed the point of my silence. I have lots to say, but one must ask the right questions.

LB (via spilledmyink)

[jeffmangos-deactivated20150612]

[julivntorres-deactivated2025040]

[desertislandcomics]