student-with-a-cape

[student-with-a-cape]

I am my fathers son

I am my fathers son, looking in the mirrors I’ve made for myself I see how insincere my sincerity has become. Dumb. I have won only self hatred and never enough love to cover the wounds I inflict without ever thinking. Hopeless, maybe -- probably something in-between hopeless and angry. No. Anger is too weak of a word. What is the mix of disappointment and self disagreement, marked by self reflection which leads to slow self annihilation? Petrified. I have stood the test of nothing. Time. My only hope is time will clean my frame. The picture is ugly -- so I pick out a shiny, new frame. 

[student-with-a-cape]

Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it’s time to pause and reflect.

Mark Twain, Mark Twain’s Notebook (via philosophybits)

[student-with-a-cape]

I believe that one defines oneself by reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. To cut yourself out of stone.

Henry Rollins (via wordsnquotes)

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Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

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Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Manon Ballerina (via wordsnquotes)

[student-with-a-cape]

I realized I need you here as desperate as that sounds.

Jon Bellion, “Woke the Fuck Up” (via wnq-music)

[student-with-a-cape]

Loving someone does not make them deserve you.

R.H. Sin (via thelovejournals)

[student-with-a-cape]

First Impressions of Mental Illness

The night I was diagnosed As mentally ill, I cried. Like a newborn child. Wept a furious storm of agony, Pounded my fists against white walls Until skin and muscle Parted like the red sea, The blood filling the cracks in the foundation Of a prison that could barely contain me.

All I could process was, “I can’t have children anymore.” How could I justify bearing fruit, When the voices of my forefathers Echoed bombastically in my skull, “if the tree has tainted roots, then level the damn tree, burn the roots, salt the earth, and sell the orchard.”

I was a cherry blossom, Mourning the stagnation Of my fruit and seedlings, Waiting for someone  to have the common courtesy  to yell “timber.”

The night I was classified Type I Manic-Depressive, My emotions became a nightmare I didn’t know I was still sleeping through. Suddenly, my tendency to be Overly inclined towards sadness And black love poetry Looked more like clinical depression, A suicidal record on an infinite loop.

Mania. M-A-N-I-A, Is the most terrifying Rush of numbness I have ever suffered. The feeling of being a flame Raging at both ends of a candle, Ready to decimate the very forest Lined with my own family trees. All the while, The wax feeding me is dwindling, Hemmoraging in a losing battle.

Do you know what it’s like? To be terrified Of your own heartbeat When a nurse with a crash cart Tries to run a current through you When you’re awake and still breathing. “170BPM. 185BPM. 194. 205. 206. 212 Goddamn it, How the fuck is he not dead yet, What did this kid shoot up with?”

The night That a team of white coated doctors, resembling a bouquet of petunias they clustered me so damn tight,  Told me that I had psychotic tendencies, Could very likely be psychotic to some degree… I turned to a dictionary. “Psychotic. Adjective. Of, relating to, marked by, or afflicted with Psychosis, a serious mental illness characterized By defective or lost contact with reality Often with hallucinations or delusions.”

In a humoring sort of way, I conceded, “ok, I am psychotic.” Reality and I Have never truly seen eye to eye. I am too damn susceptible To falling in love like my life Actually does depend on it; Treating my heart like a shooting star And letting it rocket through space, Waiting on that one special wish to earmark me; Spitting poetry like it will cure cancer; Living my life in a hopelessly optimistic fashion, Riding the edge of an invisible cliff Without a fear of heights; I dream like it’s the only thing I will ever be good at. I bare my soul, over and over and over again, Like it’s going to save someone’s life.

Yes. I am psychotic. No, I don’t want to kill you. I don’t even want to hurt you. Momma raised a pacifist. And, Deep down, I’m still the five year old boy Listening to his mother’s bedtime stories, Learning what it means to be A good man.

And, really, Shouldn’t that matter more Than a night’s worth of labels From a pack Of senseless white coats?

Copyright © 2017 C.G.Y. 

[student-with-a-cape]

The things I find most beautiful about a person are almost never physical.

Mark Patterson (via wordsnquotes)

[student-with-a-cape]

I’m fighting myself. I know I am. One minute I want to remember. The next minute I want to live in the land of forgetting. One minute I want to feel. The next minute I never want to feel ever again.

Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Last Night I Sang to the Monster (via wordsnquotes)

[student-with-a-cape]

Children of gay and lesbian parents will always know that they were wanted and not just an accident.

[student-with-a-cape]

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things which I dare not confess to my own soul.

Bram Stoker, Dracula (via wordsnquotes)

[student-with-a-cape]

Heartache is good. Accept it joyously. Allow it, don’t repress it. The natural tendency of the mind is to repress anything that is painful. By repressing it you will destroy something that is growing. The heart is meant to be broken. It’s purpose is to melt into tears and and evaporate. When the heart has evaporated exactly in the same place where the heart was, you come to know the deeper heart.

Osho (via fyp-psychology)

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It takes a special someone to see darkness inside of someone and not condemn them.

Shannon Messenger, Everblaze: Keeper of the Lost Cities (via wordsnquotes)

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Like or Reblog if you can Relate to any of These!

Join the Introvert Nation

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I’m not going to censor myself to comfort your ignorance.

Jon Stewart (via wnq-movies)

[student-with-a-cape]

I’m sorry if I seem different sometimes… if there are times it feels like I’m not the same person any more – but the truth is I’m not. Living with pain changes you. It’s exhausting… Every morning I wake up and I go to war… with my body, with my mind, with the world around me. Every day is a struggle to keep my life as close to normal as possible whilst fighting negativity and despair. I try my best to stay positive, if not for myself then for the people around me but it’s difficult to smile sometimes when all I really want to do is cry. I’m not asking for your help – but what I do need is your continuing love and support. So please understand that those times when I may not seem like myself it’s because I’m smiling on the outside when there is a whole world of pain going on inside you can’t see or understand…. So just stand by me – because knowing you’re there no matter what makes everything that little bit easier to bear and makes all the difference in the world.

Ranata Suzuki | Living With Pain (via wordsnquotes)