"Depressed? Do something that makes you happy!"

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(Source: edrecoveryprobs)

629,357 notes
10/15/14

I’m sad, walking to work on a beautiful day. Lost, walking through isle 13 of the grocery store. Anxious, writing ‘I miss you, I love you’ over and over again, and never pressing send. Writing it on paper, long hand. Another letter that will never make it to the mailbox, or into your hands. 

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I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me. I no longer spend a single minute on those who lie or want to manipulate. I decided not to coexist anymore with pretense, hypocrisy, dishonesty and cheap praise. I do not tolerate selective erudition nor academic arrogance. I do not adjust either to popular gossiping. I hate conflict and comparisons. I believe in a world of opposites and that’s why I avoid people with rigid and inflexible personalities. In friendship I dislike the lack of loyalty and betrayal. I do not get along with those who do not know how to give a compliment or a word of encouragement. Exaggerations bore me and I have difficulty accepting those who do not like animals. And on top of everything I have no patience for anyone who does not deserve my patience. Meryl Streep 

(Source: bungalowintheburrough)


16,373 notes
I laughed and said, ‘Life is easy.’ What I meant was, ‘Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.’ Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You 

(Source: larmoyante)


12,430 notes

I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy

because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless

and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.

Robin Williams 

(Source: skateeofmind)


450,195 notes
"He might be only a part of your life, for him, you are his everything. The only person in his whole life". My one and only ❤️
One of my philosophy professors lectured wildly about love once, yelling: “When you’re in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe.” (I scrawled it inside Science and Poetry in pencil—lighthouse of your universe—as if I would ever forget that phrase.) He was a delightful caricature of his position. I could swear he literally tore his hair out while howling at us. He went on, “Nothing means as much without that person.” One of the men in the class repeated, incredulous, half-laughing, “So you’re saying you can’t enjoy, like, a vacation, without someone if you’re really in love with them?” “Of course not.” the professor replied. “Not completely. You recognize beauty, but beauty means less if they don’t witness it with you. Beauty is less. You see something sublime and your first thought is that they should be there with you. It’s not as good without them. They illuminate. They make everything more.

(Source: lindsey-e)


88,579 notes
Snug is LOVING this. There’s boxes and bags everywhere. Snug was born to move.
You can tell so much about a person by the way they leave you Redvers Bailey 

(Source: guntoyourhead)


137,508 notes
If you’re struggling, you deserve to make self-care a priority. Whether that means lying in bed all day, eating comfort food, putting off homework, crying, sleeping, rescheduling plans, finding an escape through a good book, watching your favorite tv show, or doing nothing at all — give yourself permission to put your healing first. Quiet the voice telling you to do more and be more, and today, whatever you do, let it be enough. Feel your feelings, breathe, and be gentle with yourself. Acknowledge that you’re doing the best you can to cope and survive. And trust that during this time of struggle, it’s enough. Daniell Koepke 

(Source: quotes-and-coffee)


21,749 notes
It’s as easy as leaving

I’ve packed my bags again, all ready to leave.
The bags of memory I carry with me
everywhere.
They’re too heavy but I know my shaking arms can hold the weight
pulling on my shoulders that were made too small to carry
all the things I have to drag around with me and my little
cowards heart, that yearns for love and fears anything
that breathes and can’t be predicted or forgotten.
Like a beaten dog, I scuttle through neighbourhoods
looking back over my shoulder, worried about who might be following me.
Breathing too hard on a quiet fall day, heart racing after ghosts
that no one hears but my unsure ears; who whisper to my heart
Run, they whisper. Run from home again.
But my legs are tired and my last plan of escape is crumbling around me
torn down by all that once was home, was love, was safe, was blood. 
As the leaves turn red, orange and shades of yellow, the sunsets burn
like fire with smoke drifting from the trees
there’s no more roads to leave this town, there’s no tomorrow, no better days.


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