My therapist tapped her pen, and looked at me
with her chin in her hand, frustration filled the room.
“I think you enjoy being sad.”
There was silence for a minute or two, because
there was a small conflict in my mind, no, I don’t
enjoy this sadness. Yet it’s the only time I feel
alive, because it’s the only god damn time I feel
something. When your bones feel so heavy and
every breath you take you feel like you’re breathing
just to die, and when you need to talk to yourself for a
good 30 minutes after you wake up just to get the
motivation to move, sometimes feeling something,
a cut on the wrist, a tear on your cheek, a cry in the
middle of the night, it means more. It means that you’re
actually alive, because most the time I feel like I’m dead,
I wish I was dead. Sadness means I’m not dead.
“No, I don’t.
Saying yes to you was like picking up a razor blade for the first time- you brought promise of feeling something other than sorrow, but in the end you only left me more depressed and scarred.
The only difference is the scars you left are more gaping and jagged than any cut I ever made.
I Should Have Said No
Riley (via igotacureforyourcrimes)
I hope that all the young white children witnessing what is happening in Ferguson - whether they live there or not - take this knowledge of injustice with them into adulthood so that THEY may begin to change the paradigm WRT race in this country, because the onus is not on Black folks, it’s on them. These children literally are the future and I pray these demonstrations are not done in vain.
I LOVE THIS
boy hittin that chief keef stance hard as hell
|—||10-Word Story (via pure-desolation)|
If all the gangs in the world unified, we’d stand a chance against the military tonight…
|—||Reyna Biddy (via kushandwizdom)|