|The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.)||The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.)||The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.)|
now is later
okay, yeah, the convo with my momma went like this:
We were talking about my brother, the younger, biological brother (more on this in the future) who, like every fucking member of my family, suffers from depression. She told me he was suicidal. Then she asked me if I ever thought of suicide. I said no. But what I was thinking was, yes. Yes, mother, at least once a week. I think of suicide as an alternate to almost every action that I take. I wake up in the mornings having to tease the hyphae of the idea of killing myself out of my brain before I can get up in the morning.
This is why I've spent the last week in bed.