Sorry to put this on you but I have an honest question about depression an suicide. Isn't it completely possible for it to be a alternative for someone. Can't there be someone out there who genuinely is tired and doesn't want to continue. I know there is beauty and wonderful things in this world. There are things to look forward to. There will be more pain but also more laughter. But what if I'm not interested?


well… well first off, i’d say, seek professional help immediately. because i am wildly unqualified to answer your question with anything but experience. and first off, my experience says, if you are in such a deep and dark place where you say things like this to total strangers on the internet, you need to be in contact with someone that can help you start to heal.

second, i’d say… you’re wrong. i’d say the things any of us don’t know, especially about tomorrow, could blanket every grain of sand on every beach of the world with bullshit. And to simply assume you are done tomorrow because you are done today is a mistake. a factual mistake, an error, a critical miscalculation.

i’d say, read Tad Friend’s piece JUMPERS in which he seeks and finds and talks to people that jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge — and lived. And they all say the same variations this: “I instantly realized that everything in my life that I’d thought was unfixable was totally fixable—except for having just jumped.” 

And know that this piece has kept me in my seat on more than a couple dark nights.

And i’d say — i’d say i felt that way before too, and i was wrong.

And then i’d tell you something i don’t even think my wife knows. this happend years before we met — shit, more than a decade — and it’s not   the first time i came close to suicide was on a thanksgiving night. i’d eaten well and then as the house shut down i went into the bathroom, drew a bath as hot as i could manage to stand, and climbed into the tub with a razor  blade.

As i started to cut, as the corner touched my skin and that jolt of pain fired into my head, i stopped and thought — y’know, last chance. Are you SURE?

And i was tired. I sounded like you, that i knew there’d be ups again and downs but i was just so fucking TIRED i couldn’t stand the thought of having to get there. I felt this… this never-ending crush of days that were grey and tepid but for some reason i was supposed to greet each one with a smile. the constant pressure of having to keep my shit in all the time was just exhausting.

I wondered, then — well, is there anything you’re curious about. Anything you want to see play out. And i thought of a comic i was reading and i’d not figured out the end of the current storyline. And i realized I had curiosity. And that was the hook i’d hang my hat on. that by wanting to see how something played out I wasn’t really ready. That little sprout of a thing poking up through all that black earth kept me around a little longer.

I realized then that it had been so long since i’d laughed. I was numbed out and shut down and just… i missed laughing. maybe if i laughed a little i could get moving again. so i’d wait for my comic to conclude, try to find a few laughs, and then reevaluate.

So I’m in the bathtub and i got this real sharp-ass razor, right? And i look down and there’s all my bits floating in the water like they do and i thought okay, let’s get funny and i got to work.

I shaved off exactly half my pubic hair vertically. The end result was a ‘fro of pubes that looked like a Chia Pet that only half-worked. I started to laugh as I did it. And every time i’d piss, looking down made me laugh. 

Because JESUS what a nightmare.

Shortly thereafter I got very heavily into Chuck Jones and Tex Avery. Way less chafing and way more funny.

jesus. i was still in high school at the time. dig if you will a picture of the chubby weirdo that was always giggling at his dick in the bathroom. that was me.

And then I guess I’d tell you about Dave, who did the same thing as me a few years later, only DIDN’T have my hilarious Chia Dick strategy in mind and got the razor in and up. And as he started to bleed out “Brown Eyed Girl” came on the radio and he realized he’d never get to hear that again so, in a bloody comedy of errors — I swear to god this is true — he got out of the tub, tried to get dressed the best he could, went downstairs calling for help only to find his family gone, went out to his car, and drove to doug’s house only to find doug not home and so, then, finally, he blacked out from blood loss sitting there in his car, playing a van morrison CD on repeat, until, by luck, Doug’s mom came home and found him. 

Fucking Van Morrison, y’know?

A song, a comic, something dumb, something small. From that seed can come everything else, I swear to god.

I guess last I’d say… I’d say that, look — if you reached out to me for an answer, than I have to reach back out to you and insist you hear it.  Because it means, what, you know me? My work? You read my stuff and thought, well, fuck, if anyone would know why I shouldn’t end my life, if anyone alive is QUALIFIED TO SAVE ME it’s the guy that had britney spears punch a bear? okay — okay, then, so as THAT GUY I’m saying: Get help. Now, today, tonight, whenever — get to a phone and find a doctor that can try to help you heal, that can try to recolorize your world again, that can help you start caring again. All you need is that one tiny thing, that speck, that little grain of sand. the World Series, AVENGERS 2, Tina Fey’s new show, the first issue of PRETTY DEADLY, some slice of the world you’ve never seen, some drink you love, who the fuck will love your dog like you do if you’re gone, what if jabrams KILLS it on the new STAR WARS, the hell are you doing for Halloween, you ever feed a dolphin with your bare hand? because i have and I am fucking telling you IT IS A THING TO EXPERIENCE and oh god WHAT FUCKING FONT WILL STARBUCKS USE ON THE CHRISTMAS DRINK SLEEVES THIS YEAR — i don’t care what or how dumb but i promise you somewhere in your life is that one fleck of dust that can help start you on the road back. That’s all it takes. One fucking mote, drifting through your head. 

And because you asked me I am answering you because i know, motherfucker, i know, i know, i know the hole you are fucking in because I was there myself and if you look hard you can still see my writing on those walls and if you stare long enough i swear to god it’s pointing to up

The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside us while we live
— Norman Cousins  (via critias)

(Source: pendule)


So there was this Cheerios commercial that was just a normal commercial. It had a mixed-race family in it. Apparently, this SET PEOPLE OFF. Like a lot of people, I was all, “What?” Because who has problems with that, right? 

As it turns out, racists do! 

This one didn’t even compute. Luckily, here are some adorable children to explain the whole situation and maybe get people back on track.

And I see the insidious nature of race, class and privilege playing out in the most historically damaging ways possible—the server/served relationship. Everyone wants to know why customer service has gone to hell in a handbasket. I want to know why customer behavior has gone to hell in a handbasket. When we treat people as objects, we dehumanize them. We do something really terrible to our souls and theirs.
-Brené Brown (Daring Greatly)
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.
— Henri Nouwen
And this might sound like a downer but, I’m a kind of a depressive. And, for me, that means that just sometimes it kind of hurts to be alive. It’s just like, I just, it just —ugh!—you know? It sucks that you gotta kinda do each day, and keep doing the next day, and it just… Moments hurt sequentially. And when I’m bombarded with information and stimulation and I can always fill that need every time, and I feel like I’m getting bored, and I’m not happy, and so I can go and do something really quickly to kinda fill that need. I think I confused the issue and confused the subject and did not quite understand, the way I was feeling was deeper than just, ‘I’m bored right now’. It had something to do with ‘I’m deeply stressed that, uh, life goes on’. [laughs] I don’t know how to say it… And so some of the loneliness and boredom that came from the internet was really instructional because it let me know my problems were much more internal than eternal.

I had been imagining these shoes in my brain for a little over a month. It feels like a relief to have them created and wearable. :)

(Source: zevrantiva)

The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say the wisest thing you can, old man—you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind—I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that. One generation abandons the enterprises of another like stranded vessels.
— Henry David Thoreau


By far the most frustrating thing about having conversations on controversial issues is when people don’t know when to stop fighting.

It’s like going to play paintball with your friends, and then after the game is over, finding that someone won’t stop shooting.

“Whew! Well that was fun. Okay, let’s get this gear off and go get some coffee. There’s this great place over on— Ow!! Haha, okay, you got me one last time. Now let’s—Ow!! Hey! That hurts! Cut it out, man. OW! Dude! The game is over! OW!!! What the heck?! OW! STOP! OW!” …

It can’t get any darker than pitch-black, it can only get bright again.
— (via poetrycorner)


He said, ‘what are you afraid of, with your questions? Are you afraid of God not walking with you, or the universe turning its anthropomorphic back on you? or are you afraid of the culture in which you were raised ostracising you? are you afraid of human rejection?’ I said, ‘Yes, I’m definitely afraid of rejection from my friends and the world I know… judgment, separation, condemnation, and the angry Paul dusting his hands and feet of me….but if I’m honest, I’m not afraid of God. I know God wants me to know the truth, because He is the truth. I don’t think He’s intimidated or dishonored by my earnest search for the truth. I don’t think God wants me to think of Him wrongly, although i think he’d understand if I did. Maybe He just wants me to listen and act accordingly.’

Truth-searching without bias. Yes. What a risky yet necessary journey to embark on.

Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach

" There are so many games you can play. Just thinking about the self-imposed rules of dating in our generation is enough to make me weep. Can’t I just go up to you and be like, ‘Hi. I really like you. I feel like I could possibly love you. Do you feel similarly? Blink once for yes and twice for no.’ "


Fire and Eden. #texture #color #summer (Taken with Instagram)