“Is He Always like this.” The eyes getting wider the smile getting more fake. The fear resurfacing from beneath the laughter.
The fear that has fueled witch hunts, enforced sterilization, that led to extermination.
The fear that propels the movies, the comics, the life that you love, the love that makes you feel like your alive.
Its easy to remember to forget the past.
This entire year I watched idiots wail on and on about Gene Wilder, Prince, Carrie, Alan, David, Elie, Robin before all that.
They found Peace after a lifetime of suffering. They are not yours. They were never yours. Please stop this me-centric whining while you run in fear from the elephant in the room.
MENTAL ILLNESS. You mock them to shit while they are alive and then wail and bemoan them when they are gone.
No, he is not always like this. Not this he or that she. Not with the barrel in the mouth or the 40 caliber pressed directly to the temple, chambered and ready to go. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of the pain it would cause…not you you selfish strange prick. His family, her family. And still know gun control.
Because this country doesn’t care about people. This country only cares about one thing, money.
So no, actual friends who know me in person. I am not always like this. I am like everything always. And the next time you want to freak out. Do me a favor press a gun to your head and just think about it for a second. You might just realize a portion of the pain that is in my heart.
And yet, I only pity you. Because you do not know the joy of my life.
7 times on the line. 8 times back.
You know not what you do. And fuck religion and your dumbass nothing whiny prayers.
I ask the 15 percent of this country suffering from mood disorders to forgive you.
You think Columbine, Aurora, or any of those other shootings would have happened if people weren’t so afraid of intervening. Of being medicated. Of us.
What the fuck do you think Superhero movies are about?
I like to have some better echoes in my head.
“The awareness of the damage done by severe mental illness—to the individual himself and to others—and fears that it may return again play a decisive role in many suicides ” Kay Redfield Jamison
I still love…