" Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.” "

Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

oh my goodness. I have no words.

(via taytippett)

Source: justsingyourlifeaway Via: sunflower-mama
Source: crooksh4nks Via: marianamystic
" I’m not where I need to be, but thank god I’m not where I used to be. "
— (via thegoodvybe)
Source: feellng Via: cuntarella

benjamingrimes:

Blood Moon eclipse. Next time I’m going to rent a longer lens.

4/15/14

Source: benjamingrimes Via: gentle-insomnia
Source: weheartit.com Via: innermoonlight

featherumbrellas:

I had this done today. A quotation by Brian Andreas, which to me represents writing as “better things to do”. Writing is an outlet for dark thoughts by putting them at rest instead of festering in them.

“I once had a garden filled with flowers that grew only on dark thoughts but they need constant attention & one day I decided I had better things to do. ”

Source: featherumbrellas Via: in-finitus
" Energy, like you, has no beginning and no end. It can never be destroyed. It is only ever shifting states. "
Panache Desai (via psychedeliknights)
Source: purplebuddhaproject Via: sunflower-mama
Source: ksorra Via: innermoonlight
" If you’re feeling small today I dare you to sit up straighter, look someone who scares you directly in the eye, take up room at the dinner table, make yourself bigger, when ‘sorry’ laps at the back of your tongue, tries to pick up after you, remind yourself that your existence doesn’t demand an apology, that you are allowed to make mess and take up space. Do not be afraid to expand. Every single goddamn minute. Expand, expand, expand. "
— Femme Fatale (via aurelle)
Source: rivermoth Via: aurelle
n.b.