snh-snh-snh:

I keep thinking oh man, I’m so immature. How am I allowed to be an adult.

Then I spend time with teenagers.

And it’s like, wow, okay, yeah. I am an adult. I am so adult. Look at me adulting all over the place.

(via thegeekmaster)

Depression is hard to understand, because it is not a consistent state. Depression is rather like a virus, but like a virus, it has its manageable days and its acute, life-threatening flare-ups. You can be in a depression and still laugh at a friend’s joke or have a good night at dinner or manage low-level functioning. You grocery shop and stop to pet a puppy on the corner, talk to friends in a café, maybe write something you don’t hate. When this happens, you might examine your day for clues like reading tea leaves in a cup: Was it the egg for breakfast that made the difference? The three-mile run? You think, well, maybe this thing has moved on now. And you make no sudden moves for fear of attracting its abusive attention again.

But other times…

Other times, it’s as if a hole is opening inside you, wider and wider, pressing against your lungs, pushing your internal organs into unnatural places, and you cannot draw a true breath. You are breaking inside, slowly, and everything that keeps you tethered to your life, all of your normal responses, is being sucked through the hole like an airlock emptying into space. These are the times Holly Golightly called the Mean Reds.

I call it White Knuckling it.

Miles and Miles of No Man’s Land, Libba Bray (via babybirched)

"But the stigma of depression is that it comes with the sense that you shouldn’t have it to begin with. That it is self-indulgence or emotional incompetence rather than actual illness."

(via sonchorizos)

whoa.

(via keeperofthehouse)

When it’s White Knuckle Time, you will have to remind yourself to stand in the middle of the subway platform, well away from the edge.”

There is an undertow to depression. It doesn’t take you all at once. It leaves you with some false sense that you are coping. That you are in control. That you have the shore still well in sight, until, at some point, you raise your head to find yourself all alone, battered by rough seas with absolutely no idea which way you should swim.”

 

Jesus, every damn word of this post. It’s remarkable.

(via foulmouthedliberty)

(via nudityandnerdery)

as-cool-as-an-attempted-suicide:

wallflowerbloom:

No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

(Dead Poets Society, 1989)

Me

(via wilwheaton)

runningoncoals:

I am literally both of them at the same time

(via argentarachnids)

jonnovstheinternet:

So I heard it’s Earth Day

image

(via thegeekmaster)

nebachanezar:

The real plot line of 30 Rock.

(via thegeekmaster)

Reblog if you are

kanrose:

shaxaphone:

s4rcoline:

image

I can’t believe I watched that whole thing. Smh. That’s how I know I am.

where are the notes

we fucking broke it, guys

(via argentarachnids)

saucefactory:


queelez:


lord-of-the-nerds:


discordion:


When he was 2 years old, he fell out of a second story window and fractured his skull
When he was 6 years old, he mistakenly drank boric acid.
When he was 9 years old, he fell over a small cliff and broke his leg.
When he was 11 years old, he contracted measles and was in a coma for nine days.
When he was 14 years old, he broke his arm when he caught it in a carriage door.
When he was 19 years old, he was struck on the head by a falling brick.
When he was 23 years old, he almost died from the effects of tainted wine.
When he was 29 years old, Adolph Sax invented the saxophone.


clearly someone didn’t want that saxophone invented 


#incompetent time-travelling saxophone haters


THIS NEEDS TO BE A 300-PAGE SCI-FI NOVEL BECAUSE I WOULD READ THE HELL OUTTA THAT

saucefactory:

queelez:

lord-of-the-nerds:

discordion:

When he was 2 years old, he fell out of a second story window and fractured his skull

When he was 6 years old, he mistakenly drank boric acid.

When he was 9 years old, he fell over a small cliff and broke his leg.

When he was 11 years old, he contracted measles and was in a coma for nine days.

When he was 14 years old, he broke his arm when he caught it in a carriage door.

When he was 19 years old, he was struck on the head by a falling brick.

When he was 23 years old, he almost died from the effects of tainted wine.

When he was 29 years old, Adolph Sax invented the saxophone.

clearly someone didn’t want that saxophone invented 

#incompetent time-travelling saxophone haters

THIS NEEDS TO BE A 300-PAGE SCI-FI NOVEL BECAUSE I WOULD READ THE HELL OUTTA THAT

(via argentarachnids)

leafsfeelings:

choptail:

*SLAMS REBLOG BUTTON*

HIT REBLOG SO GODDAMN FAST

leafsfeelings:

choptail:

*SLAMS REBLOG BUTTON*

HIT REBLOG SO GODDAMN FAST

(via themarysue)