Can we please take a second to pause this tedious story to talk about something that no one wants to talk about?

Sadness, loneliness, depression, melancholy; whatever you want to call it, we all feel it. It's there, and it sucks, and we hate it and we like to forget about it when it's not there but the fact of the matter is that it's inevitable.

There is always so much opportunity to be let down.

There is always so much opportunity for our own indulgences to hurt us.

It is impossible to go unscathed by the claws of the lowest emotion we know how to feel.

...that last sentence didn't come out right, so let me start somewhere else.

You see, once you're sad or depressed or whatever the only thing that makes sense is waiting to hit rock bottom. Naturally, you're first instinct is to fight it and then the next best idea is to figure out what's causing it and get rid of it. Unfortunately, none of that matters or works or proves to be any kind of useful in the long run.

Sometimes the best thing to do is to take a deep breath, look someone in the eye and show them the scars or cuts or tear tracks staining your cheeks. Sometimes it's best to just sit with someone and tell them you're writing about how much your life really fucking sucks at the moment without letting them read any of the details.

And you know what the shittiest part is? Sometimes even those efforts are just as futile as any of the others.

I suppose I'm too inebriated to even get where I'm trying to go without being direct about a lot of things. I realize I could just suck it up and pour my heart into this thing, but that's not what I want.

What I want is to know that other people are just as human- if not more- than I am.

What I need is to feel like I'm not alone in this never ending war against the ruthless workings of the nature I am a victim to.

I need another human. I need someone- anyone- to tell me "hey, guess why my life sucks..." and then make me see that this suffering I feel I'm always going to be going through isn't as abnormal as therapists and doctors tell me it is.

It's not always about one's disorders; sometimes it's simply about one's willingness to accept that they can not be a consistent human being, and neither can anyone else.

Consistency is for robots.

And sobriety is for people who are afraid of the truth.

I'm shutting up now because clearly I am talking about things that I can't even follow right now.

Goodnight. I hope I wake up in the morning....kind of.

I went outside for some fresh air; for some quiet.

When I go outside for this purpose, I like to imagine everything inside my head, both the physical and metaphorical, floating out of my ears and drifting away with the wind. I very literally clear my head. Only this time, I was unable to do so.

A girl wearing only spandex and a sports bra (both too tight for her figure) was loudly arguing with her mother on the telephone. I am not one to judge such arguments because I’ve had my own fair share of them, but I couldn’t help but laugh to myself when I realized what it was they were screaming at each other about.

“I’m not a child, and it’s mine!” The girl was shamelessly raising her voice, clearly unbothered by my presence. And then she said the funniest thing ever in the whiniest voice ever:

“IT’S MY FACEBOOK MOM.”

And that’s where I started laughing. To make the entire situation even more entertaining, the girl started crying. She then proceeded to hang up on her mother and throw her phone at a nearby tree. I was absolutely torn by this moment. I found the entire situation hilarious, but at the same time I really just wanted some quiet.

So I sat there giggling to myself, watching the smoke from my cigarette dance into the sky as the girl put her phone back together and walked away embarrassed.

It's like waking up without an alarm clock.

There is something innocent, something natural, and something amazing about reacting to the morning in a different way. That's what this feeling is.

I suppose it could be considered a lack of feeling, but internally that's not what it is. It's an absolute tranquility with the way things work. It's a peace of mind I have struggled to find for the past year. It's a beauty that I can't put to words.

It's wonderful.

I don't need the inconsistency, nor do I want it.

I have done so well without it.

I am doing so well without it.

This is my release. This is me, Stephanie Kate, letting it go and not doing it because I feel helpless. I'm letting go because it's what I want. I don't want the burden of walking on my own eggshells.

I don't want the burden of poisoning those around me.

So I'm letting go. I have realized who I want around and who I'm better off without. I will not make an effort. I will continue to be unfazed by petty attempts to bring me down. But most of all , I will continue to enjoy things. I will continue to make the people around me happy because I know that it's actually possible to make these people happy.

The impossible and frustrating people have been released. The ones who aren't afraid to reciprocate feelings and thoughts and raw, honest, human emotion are the ones who are staying.

So, to those I no longer wish to make an effort with, goodbye.

Goodbye and good night and I wish you the best of luck in figuring out how to make yourself happy because it is no longer something I want to do.

i need a song.

a picture isn't ever enough. painting is never enough. writing can only do so much.

i need a song.

one that i can lay in the dark and listen to on repeat and never get sick of hearing.

one that is okay following me down the rabbit hole.

one that doesn't mind only being played when i'm not in a good place.

i need a song.

a song that can not only reminds me that it's going to be okay, but one that reminds me it's okay to not be okay for a moment.

i need a song.

if you find this song, please, let me listen.

la la la la la la la

i wish i didn't have the urge to sing every time i listened to Ratatat. it's a very odd situation to be in.