The Mountains Are Calling @themtnhipster - Tumblr Blog

poems-and-word

trasemc

Sky addiction

That moment when you realize you literally have no friends

#personal #alone #lol #depression

luminatress

The Signs and Their Ingredients

Aries: flames directly from hell, shards of diamonds, the energy of a toddler, and a gallon of caffeine

Taurus: clusters of emerald gemstones, the scent of old books, warm chocolate chip cookies, and silk pajamas

Gemini: wind from a tornado, a pinch of salt, a child’s laughter, and a cup of glitter

Cancer: shimmering tears, the moon’s light, the scent of fresh lavender, and water from an ocean storm

Leo: a Hollywood actresses’ tears, the pride of a lion, the morning sun’s rays, and beaming highlighters

Virgo: freshly roasted coffee, the scent of new books, a bouquet of daisies, and the breeze of a fall afternoon

Libra: a cup of rose petals, a bottle of fruity perfume, creamy frosting, and the voice of Marilyn Monroe

Scorpio: deep rooted secrets, the eyes of a psychic, passion *added for flavor*, and a midnight conversation

Sagittarius: a child’s optimism, a folk song riff, a language not yet known, and the wisdom of a philosopher

Capricorn: the bones of a warrior, a gallon of pessimism, a leader’s authority, and Saturn’s tough, layered rings

Aquarius: an alien’s brain, a tablespoon of star dust, holographic beams, and one mystery flavored airhead

Pisces: melatonin, a cup of cotton candy, the heart of a goddess, and the tears of a siren

drxgonfly

The Still Dance (by Amy Kathryn Taylor)

lecafenoirx

Depression is not cute. It’s not just “being a little shy”, “a little sad”. Depression makes your days blur into nothing, the void. Depression makes you walk alone at night secretly wishing someone does something to you that will end your suffering without being responsible for hurting your friends and family that is inevitable. Depression makes you so awfully suicidal. Depression makes you feel like a monster you want to destroy. Tired. Restless. Drowning, begging for help that will never come.

There’s so much suffering in me that I cannot deal with. “Can’t you just try being a little more positive?”

I’m sick and tired of listening to “I know how you feel, I know it’s a little tough.” “A little tough” could just as well be the understatement of the fucking year. You don’t know how I feel. You don’t know how it feels to be suicidal for a decade and a half. Dead inside. Asking yourself why hadn’t you finished it all already and realising you’re holding onto the last hope. The hope that shouldn’t even be here. The hope you don’t even believe in anymore. You don’t know how it feels to fight every single thought in your head every damn day. You don’t understand the disappointment in yourself after feeling better literally for a second only to realise you are gonna fuck up again. You always do.

Don’t you tell me you know how it feels like. Listen.