You are good at something, stop lying to yourself. You’re good at breaking down comic book plots, cooking ramen perfectly, making your friends happy, knowing the time without looking at a clock, getting the perfect ending at RPG’s, or figuring out the twist ending to movies. Don’t let society tell you your talents are meaningless because they don’t serve an economical purpose. Your talents reflect your interests and passions, and what’s important to you is important.
I hope you all find someone who gives you cute names and tells you it’s adorable when you do embarrassing things and hugs you when it’s early in the morning and makes you feel like you have a whole disneyland fireworks show going off inside your body and never ever lets you go
The stigma surrounding depression and mental illness needs to STOP. Right now.
Treat everyone, including yourself, with as much kindness as you can.
Never, ever think you won’t be missed. Yes, you reading this.
No one can promise you things will get better, no one can promise you that someday you won’t struggle. But *I*, right here, can promise you that there are still amazing things in the days ahead, some large, some small. If you check out early, you’ll miss those. Don’t do that to yourself.
KINDNESS AND COMPASSION. FOR EVERYONE. INCLUDING YOUR OWN DAMN SELF.
hey you guys!! obviously there’s some upsetting news going around, and it might be a little difficult to be online right now for some of you.
here is a masterpost of resources to distract or cheer yourself up. if you are at all triggered by this news, taking care of yourself should take first priority to participating in the worldwide outpouring of grief.
don’t buy that “love is a serious word” crap. love freely and carelessly. love yourself. love that lady bird that just flew past. love that cutie that served you lunch at a cafe that you’ll probably never see again. love every single cat you see and when you stop loving someone or something, don’t fight it.
I’ve spent my 18 years of life trying to be okay with the fact that humans fade in and out of each others’ lives. No matter how I think about it, I can’t make it sound romantic or poetic. To those who have already passed through my life and to those who eventually will: I love you. I miss you. The back door will always be unlocked if you ever feel like coming home.