Having A Friend With Mental Health Issues Is Actually Terrible, Because You Have A Normal, Everyday Conversation,

Having a friend with mental health issues is actually terrible, because you have a normal, everyday conversation, and then they make a self-depricating joke or a joke about suicide. And they laugh, and you should laugh too, you know about coping with humor, but you can’t because you worry too much. You know them from a long time, and you remember the highs and you remember the lows, and your stomach gets tangled into a knot. You should laugh, but it’s too late, the mood is ruined now, they stop smiling and you hate yourself for making things awkward. So force a smile, but it’s fake, and they know you too much, and you actually just made the whole situation worse, and you hate yourself. You wish you could lie better or care less or just be different but this is how you are, and you had loved ones before struggling with this shit, and you are worried, and you don’t know how to give them what they need. You don’t even know what they need, you never understood people, and you want to, but it’s like there is a glass wall separating you. And you’re scared that you’re gonna let them down, and you try harder. It’s like walking on eggshells, but you don’t actually see the eggshells and you aren’t even sure there are any eggshells at all, because you’re overthink everything and this was supposed to be a normal conversation. You can’t have a normal conversation, because you overthink. So you try to be better, and next time you laugh, but still aren’t sure, if this is what they need, and your stomach is in a knot.

me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU

(◡‿◡✿)

(ʘ‿ʘ✿) “what you say ‘bout me”

(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ “hold my flower”

i didn't have "i'm broken" teenage asexual angst i had "i'm literally being the only reasonable one about this concept and the rest of you are behaving like fucking freaks" perception issues

Gyónás után & Nincs több

Bevallottam: a naplementét Svájcban.

Nem lett volna szabad.

Gonosz féreg az önvád. Az erősek

hajnalban kelnek, fát aprítanak,

isznak egy korty pálinkát, s így tovább.

Mivel csak ők, az erős gyilkosok

ismerik a füvek, fák, madarak,

a nők és a csecsemők nyelvét.

~

Nincs több, nincs, mint a bűnözők szeme,

az a bizonyos merev tekintet,

mely szigorú, akár a nap,

és berajzolja komoran

és ugyanakkor fényesen

a vágóhidak s a földi királyok

színehagyott, szomorú méltóságát.

Ezek a szemek,

egyedűl eme pillantások

méltóak észrevenni a halált

és a virágok átöltözködését.

Egyedűl

ők tudják elkiáltani

a világ minden bánatát, és egyedűl

ők tudják elhallgatni Isten titkát

szemközt a lincselő tömeggel.

— Pilinszky János

(Megjegyzés: ez két külön vers, témabeli hasonlóságuk okán fűztem össze őket. Mindenképpen érdekes párhuzam figyelhető meg, valószínűleg ugyanazon gondolatmenet szüleményei.)

otter-wan says it's time for BIG yawn and commander cuddles