I'm an underemployed college graduate floating through life in Washington, DC drinking red wine and telling bad jokes.
Until I started taking my antidepressants, though, I didn’t actually know that I was depressed. I thought the dark staticky corners were part of who I was. It was the same way I felt before I put on my first pair of glasses at age 14 and suddenly realized that trees weren’t green blobs but intricate filigrees of thousands of individual leaves; I hadn’t known, before, that I couldn’t see the leaves, because I didn’t realize that seeing leaves was a possibility at all. And it wasn’t until I started using tools to counterbalance my depression that I even realized there was depression there to need counterbalancing. I had no idea that not everyone felt the gravitational pull of nothingness, the ongoing, slow-as-molasses feeling of melting down into a lump of clay. I had no way of knowing that what I thought were just my ingrained bad habits — not being able to deposit checks on time, not replying to totally pleasant emails for long enough that friendships were ruined, having silent meltdowns over getting dressed in the morning, even not going to the bathroom despite really, really, really having to pee — weren’t actually my habits at all. They were the habits of depression, which whoa, holy shit, it turns out I had a raging case of.
Why do police have quotas? If a doctor went around intentionally sneezing on people to get more patients, that would be seen as a travesty to their profession. But police, can sit around and wait for someone to turn on a red light or commit other mundane ‘offenses’ because they have quotas to meet. Quotas are all the proof we need that policing is not a public service vocation; it’s a business and a subsidiary of Wall Street.
He’s us in the morning:
He’s us during arguments:
He’s us when regarding our fandoms:
He’s us regarding most religion:
He’s us when we’re nervous and we start night blogging:
He’s us during the week:
He’s us when we encounter anon hate:
He’s us when we come up with ideas:
He’s us under pressure:
He’s us when a new episode comes:
He’s just us…y’know?
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,…
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—
I, too, am America
Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes
you cannot even breathe deeply, and
the night sky is no home, and
you have cried yourself to sleep enough times
that you are down to your last two percent, but
nothing is infinite,
not even loss.
You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day
you are going to find yourself again.