lifeinpoetry
I would suggest that you go and support all bold things. There are really only a handful of plots or situations in the world, and we only expand upon them when we risk something. One’s art—not to mention one’s heart—shrivels if you have too rigid an expectation for everything you see or read or hear. You do not know everything; you have not seen everything. Surprise yourself. Let others surprise you. Get out more. See everything. Love it. Argue about it. Take the shards from what you saw and apply it to what you’re working on. Pass it on. Meet the deadline. Go to the pale judgment. There is no mystery to how these things begin or how they are implemented. The mystery is when it all works.
andreakisasi

andreakisasi:

I wish I had written this. This is everything I feel about Holiday, who woke me up at 4am because she was hunting an invisible bug and my dead asleep body was in her goddamn way.

This article is everything. My cat is not my child; I don’t identify with him. When he yowls, he sounds like a balloon squeaking out the last of its air, which is the worst sound in my life. He bites my ankles in my sleep. But he’s my cat. I hate and love him all the same.

andreakisasi
If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.

anonymous reader on The Dish

One of the more helpful and insightful things I’ve seen about depression/suicide in the last couple of days.

(via the-greatdepression)