I’ve always loved the night, when everyone else is asleep and the world is all mine. It’s quiet and dark—the perfect time for creativity.
You’ve got to reach bedrock to become depressed enough before you are forced to accept the reality and enormity of the problem.
You know what is beautiful? A real conversation with a real person.
No, Ben. What I’m asking is: Are you the vehicle, and Georgie rides around in you? That is why Ben’s the driver, right?
The drug I take is called schizophrenia, among other labels, which I desperately want to put away. I want to put the drug of schizophrenia down, and I want to put down the stigma surrounding its label.
Pessimists try to convince you the world sucks, optimists already know it does and smile anyway.
I have schizophrenia. I am not schizophrenia. I am not my mental illness. My illness is a part of me.
We all have problems, but let’s not kid ourselves: it’s how we deal with them that makes the difference.
How simple it is to acknowledge that all the worry in the world could not control the future. How simple it is to see that we can only be happy now, and that there will never be a time when it is not now.
Thoughts. Thoughts bombard my head, my brain. My psyche
The strongest people are not those who show strength in front of the world but those who fight and win battles that others do not know anything about.
I keep moving ahead, as always, knowing deep down inside that I am a good person and that I am worthy of a good life.
Sometimes I return back to the state of mind I had as a child when I believed nothing was impossible.
Forget about being impressive and commit to being real. Because being real is impressive!
Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained.
I’d wish it were easier to not allow other people’s pasts to create my own present.