Jams. \m/ #ironreagan #thrash #thrashythrashythrash
#Can you imagine if one day you’re just casually passing by your living room window when you see a familiar figure outside with a long coat and converse shoes #and your heart stops for a second as if deciding whether you finally died, but you’re alive, and so you wait for the vision to slip back into your subconscious #but it doesn’t.
#He begins to walk away and your book drops from your hand, falling open and wrinkling its pages while your legs bolt towards the front door #but by the time you fumble onto the steps all you can see is a faint outline of an old police telephone box and the distancing sound of waking dreams. #You can’t help but yell out “DOCTOR!” but it’s as noticeable as the last glimmer of the TARDIS bulb.
#Then you find that somehow the sun as gone down and that you’ve been standing on the sidewalk all afternoon, you also realize that neighbors are staring out their windows. #When you finally get inside you run into the living room and look out the window but it’s all dark now. #You step back and your heel hits something, the book, it’s still on the floor #Picking it up you look at it’s creased pages, refusing to unfold them. #An unexpected bookmark for the day you saw The Doctor.
#Ah but as you pick up the page, you notice something between the pages of the book. # A small key, left behind by someone or something to let you know he is still out there. #You breath in and glance back at the window into the night, listening for anything that might have placed that key in your book. #Nothing comes to your ears. #You clench the key in your fist and turn around, ready to head to bed and wishing that your dream was actually reality.
#That would be when the noise sounded up. #The moment when all hope was gone, you hear the sound again. #The whooshing grinding noise that brings hope back to life. #You look over your shoulder into the gloom, # seeing a faint light pierce the dark. #A blue box. #One that is bigger on the inside.# A head pops out of it and looks at you as you stare at the window.
Every Whovian’s daydream put into words.
To all those who are saying “it’s a selfish act” please please read. Share whatever but think on this.
You may be saying that it was “selfish” of Robin Williams to (and this is supposed) commit suicide. This is a very strong subject in my beliefs. Those suffering from depression see life in a very different light. Or I should say lack thereof, to say it is selfish helps nobody. It hurts more than does good and causes a wall of insecurity and hopelessness in itself. Think of anytime you may have said that “I am there for you if you need me” what is actually being said is if you need me you have to come and ask for my help. Even though society is more open nowadays there is still a giant stigma about depression. People still are seen as weak links or inferior and that they need to crawl to somebody to get help. There is a giant profit margin and commercials for drugs to help cure depression and that is wrong. There is no cure there is no miracle drug because there is no defining cause, it’s many and all causes- stress, chemical, background instances in life, social disapproval of oneself. These are some of the ways people can succumb to falling in a pit of depression and can’t get out. Instead of saying you are there for those you know are suffering from depression try going to those people, asking if there’s anything they would want you to help them do. You take the steps toward your friends and family instead of forcing them to come to you. Become involved in trying to help them, not by taking their hand and dragging them, but letting them take yours. It is as if they have a fatal illness, because from when they wake until they have to get up and repeat the process again that it affects their lives. Have you ever looked at someone and when you say “I love you” no matter who they look back as if confused by your words, it’s the same situation. To someone who doesn’t understand the feeling of love the words are that - just words. They see what it’s supposed to look like and mimic to blend or to seem part of the world. Those with depression constantly are mimicking what they think people want to see. Playing a role to lessen the burden that they feel they are. Who wants to drag the people in their lives into the same place they are in? I am very open about my depression I go to therapy and take medication and you know what…. None of it cures depression it just helps see that those things that overwhelm me don’t need to be so hard and that I can take a minute to think things out a little clearer. Those who are less knowledgable about emotions need to learn what and how they are just like learning anything else, in steps. I never knew once I started to get control of my anger that underlying was despair. I thought despair was something you felt when someone dies or gets really sick not that it could be a daily emotion and that it could be under all the anger. If I could turn back time then there is soo much of my life I could’ve enjoyed much more, but I’m learning how to change my future. People have said to me that suicide is selfish, or made me promise I’d never do that to them and isn’t that more selfish than anything could be. There was a time in my life I was faced with two options and they were to pull myself to start trying to get help or to let it all sweep over me and give up. Somehow I picked the road to go on, I don’t know what it was that made me chose this road but I did. I see things now I’ve never seen before, the small things that I was too blinded by the pain to see and I’m learning what feelings are like self respect. I don’t really understand the concept but slowly I am taking steps for myself and standing up to situations instead of them taking over me. Mainly don’t judge the acts of somebody’s pain as selfish but treat it as how opinions and views need to change. That the word help needs to be shown and given and not expected to be asked/begged for. Also that the word selfish should never be said, because those who can get up and function everyday to be a part of your life shows more strength and courage than that person will ever feel in their entire lives for themselves.
I watched my Dad attempt suicide when I was 8 years old. News of Robin Williams’ death hit me in the gut this evening — such a beautiful, brilliant brain plagued by such sadness. The following is something I wrote a year ago about my dad’s lifelong struggle with depression, and the night I watched him try and kill himself. I’ve never shared this anywhere, but if it can help even one person … Fuck it, let’s let all the demons out. Maybe they’ll stop killing us if we do.
My dad was a great man. He was kind, funny, brilliant, handsome, charming. It was impossible to meet him and not like him. He was loved by all. Everyone who knows me has heard all the good stories about him, it’s all I ever tell. I think I believe that if I tell them enough, they’ll make all the bad stories go away. I’ve taken the threads of only the best memories and woven them together to create a man who maybe never really existed – who maybe sometimes existed, but only in flashes, in stints.
I don’t much care about Robin Williams (I never felt that strong connection to him that apparently the rest of the world did. He was a good actor, people dying is sad, let’s move on). But I do care about the forum it has opened on real depression and suicide. What this girl wrote about her father is an amazing insight in to the reality of the situation.
Most metal moth ever. Haha. #metal #blackmetal #satanmothwantsyoursoul