It is hypocritical of us to neglect reading our Bibles, and then cry out in prayer as though we are hungry for God. Real hunger pushes us into the scriptures.

Micah Wood (via peterdwebb)

I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can.

Neil Gaiman (via aurelle)

It has never been easy. When I was sixteen, I knew every potentially fatal thing in my house: Nail polish remover under the sink. Bottle of rubbing alcohol beside it. Hammer in the tool box. Forty foot bridge across the highway. Traffic outside my window.

I thought about slamming my own head against a counter until I lost feeling. I thought about punching myself in the face until I stopped breathing. I thought about running out into the street at two a.m. and waiting until a car came.

I never thought I’d make it to twenty-five. But I told myself to stay. Just for a little longer. Just to see.

So I did. I sat silent amongst my friends, searching for a way to speak. I stopped leaving my house. I swapped sleeping for staying up all night, staring at my bedroom walls. When someone came into my room to talk to me, I started crying. But I stayed. Because I thought, if I plan on dying in a few years anyway, what do I have to lose? And some days I didn’t feel like I was being swallowed whole. Some days I sat by my pool and sang until the sun set. Some days I kissed somebody on their parent’s couch and didn’t feel lonely when I got to my own bed. Some days I listened to a really great song and felt understood, if only for a second.

I stayed. And still I thought about bridges. And hammers to the head. And swallowing acetone to cleanse my insides. But slowly slowly slowly I began to understand that it was okay to cry, and shake, and feel anything but okay. I realized that there would still be days that my fist would rise to my cheek. And still, my face would sometimes resemble a bruised peach.

But now I tear up my lists of potentially ways to die before I complete them. I replace prescription: pills, rubbing alcohol, and razors with memories of the good days. Of holding your hand through the entire state of Oregon. Of running half-naked down a snowy street three New Year’s ago. Of riding go-carts in the Canadian wilderness. Of smoking cigarettes on the beach in San Francisco with someone I met six months ago. If I had left, we would not know each other.

If you feel the same way, stay. For the good days. And the sunsets. And the people out there who understand. Stay because being submerged in black water does not mean you have to drown. Stay. Just for a little longer. Just to see.

Stay | Lora Mathis 

Erase the stigma behind mental illness. Being alive isn’t easy. We all have to help each other out. Losing Robin Williams to depression was a tragedy. Reach out to those around you and always offer help. 

(via lora-mathis)

Maybe we’ll meet again one day when you’re not so broken and I’m not so jealous. Maybe one day we’ll be right for each other and it won’t be so hard for you to love me. I really hope that one day we’ll reconnect because no one has ever caught my heart in quite the same way.

But that day isn’t today. Today, you’re too broken and I’m too pushy. Today we don’t quite work out and as much as I care for you, I can’t keep pretending that we do.

So I’m saying goodbye. But maybe one day, I won’t have to.

Letters to the next (god im going to miss you)

I got drunk hoping that I could forget you just for one night, but even when my blood turns into alcohol you’re still the only thing that crosses my mind. I guess maybe that’s because nothing intoxicates me like you do.

I miss you  (via apocalyptic-bliss)

jspark3000:

When people say, “I’ve never seen that side of him before” — I want to say, “You have another side too. We all do. You’re just hiding it today.”

It’s ugly to watch someone lash out, blow up, and melt down: but we are all just as capable of the same crimes and cowardice. Please don’t be too hard on others when their worst is exposed, and don’t despise someone whose worst is different than yours. We’re all a little crazy and we all need the same grace.

— J

Not being able to fully understand God is frustrating, but it is ridiculous for us to think we have the right to limit God to something we are capable of comprehending.

Crazy Love, Francis Chan  (via littlethingsaboutgod)