On riding waves

I think that depression is a normal state of being. I think that it gets this energy behind it that calls for it to be fixed. The lows and the downs are made into problems that can be solved. I think that depression has value. I think that we underestimate how potent its’ value is. I think that in forcing happy , we all get that much more depressed. I think that it would be better if the concept of ‘riding the waves’ was more mainstream. Allowing the people, all the people, the poorest, most disenfranchised, shitted on people to feel those waves , to embrace them, to wear them like badges of sad fucking honor. They make it this way, the depression. Find yourself scrambling, find yourself gritting so hard to force a smile, force your body, your mind , your whole fucking disposition to be palatable to the cannibals who rip you whole. Who tell you cheer up, who quote Bible verses, who remind you that your pain and your suffering ain’t enough.

It sucks for it to suck. And sometimes you cry so much your head hurts and hurts and your whole body aches. And you want it away. Don’t want your crybaby swag. Don’t want to be that same punk-ass bitch whining about the same shit, over and over again. Know that no one cares. They all got their own problems. Hell even you over them, over those emotions, those piercing, thrusting, fucking in the a without vaseline, pulsing emotions. The ones that make you wail like a cow, waiting to be gutted, split up in pieces and pieces of problems and unfixed solutions. I think it’s best to let it dance upon you. Let it take you there, let it make you walk in the rain on those sunny days and say “fuck you , hit me harder”.

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