The worst part about depression that’s on again off again is that you can never tell if you’re making progress and actually feel better or if you just had a couple of good days and the second something goes wrong you’ll be right back where you started.


fucking dying forever

"But I saw you last week and you seemed fine, I thought you were over all ‘this’"

(via mudbabies)

Here’s the deal, I hate my life roughly 60-65% of the time. That’s enough to realize that I should do everything I can to make sure I don’t impact anyone’s life in a negative way. Think about it.

If you don’t think about death, then what’s the point?

Interested in me? Oh, it’ll pass.

And as the weeks and months ensued
I tried to make myself of use.
I tilled and planted, but could not produce —
not root, nor leaf, nor flower, nor bean; Lord!
It seemed I overwatered everything.

And I hate the sight of that empty air,
like stepping for a missing stair
and falling forth forever blindly:
cannot grab hold of anything! No,
Not I, most blessed among Colleens.

(Source: onlynewsom)

Who’s got a blue football? I’ll be your friend.

Oh, I was surfing in the beautiful light lain there before dusk on Friday. Paddling out, I spied something emerald and tawny bobbing in the swells. Drawing closer, there, unopposed to the breaking surf, I found an ancient, be-barnacled sea turtle. We exchanged pleasantries and separated. What a day!


day 113: joanna newsom’s new album not out yet