But we avoid feeling anything because we have more or less been taught that our feelings have lives of their own. That they’ll carry on forever if we give them even a moment of our awareness.
It doesn’t look like anything you thought it would be.
Crying. Lots of crying about random things that you otherwise wouldn’t cry about.
Sometimes people will ask you how many times you’ve cried in the last year, as if you’re going to pull out a journal that lists the date and time of every breakdown you’ve had in the last 12 months.
Depression is a seemingly never-ending struggle with one’s own existence, and is not something that can be solved with true love’s kiss or even the love of a best friend.
Do I truly miss you, the person that you are, every single part of you? Or do I miss having a “someone,” a “person?”
People come into your life at the worst times, for the best reasons.
You wake up each morning and you can’t help but feel sad.
From time to time, you still think that you could be together at some point. No matter the impossibilities of that situation. Not because you think you’ll love them forever, but because you feel like you could fall in love with them whenever.
Last night I smoked a blunt with a 65-year-old woman.