Thank god we can pay for our antidepressants,
but over at that free clinic,
do they cover depression?
A world shattered by oppression,
you’ll pay for your own thoughts.
Sadness on the order,
extra melancholy on top.
Those people on the corner,
who yell they fought in the war,
stay alive to fend the fight with a piece of cardboard.
You may hate it and judge it,
say it’s unjust and what not,
but that’s the world we live in,
so turn your head away or rework it.
Everything good (or even just ok. just reasonable) in my life falls apart and crumbles because I’m an idiot. I am an idiot who says idiotic things, and who apparently, subconsciously doesn’t want to be happy
I want to sit with someone at 3 am and talk. Like really talk. I want you to tell me what keeps you up at night, that dream you keep having, what certain songs make you feel like, what you think happens after death. Talk to me about your family and your dreams.
� Pedro Arrupe (via psych-facts)