this is for people who are unhappy, this is for people who don’t want to get up in the morning, this is for the people who stay up until 4 A.M. because they’re too afraid of their own dreams, this is for the people who hold a gun to their head to a blade to their wrist or a pill to their lips, this is for my aunt who attempted 4 times and we’re all so happy she didn’t succeed (and so is she) this is for the people who are too ashamed of their bodies to want to be in public, this is for the boys and girls who are too scared to go to school, this is for the people who are scared as fuck to be alone, this is for the people who have fallen and picked themselves up again, this is for the people who have been broken too many times and are missing tons of their own pieces, this is for the people who have been abandoned and are still waiting for them to come back, this is for the people who were ready to jump, this is for the people who cut but didn’t understand it, this is for the people who are confused, this is for the people who don’t think they can make it, this is for the people who cry and don’t understand where the fuck the tears are coming from,
and this is for the people who just want to be happy.
this is for you, this is for me, this is for everyone.
reblog if you support people dealing with depression/self harm/suicide. put your heart on your sleeve.
Removed triggering image of self-injury included in the original post.
About 50 metres from where we pulled over was an overpass that connected Deraa to Izraa. I could see clearly a crowd of people marching from my left to my right over the bridge.
Suddenly gunfire rained into the crowd. The truck drivers dove for cover. And, for what seemed like an eternity, I sat there in the car, stunned and frozen. People were falling on top of each other, being cut down like weeds in a field by what I think must have been a mix of both small arms fire and machine gun fire. I saw at least two children shot. They fell immediately. People were screaming. Gunfire rattled on.
I could not take my eyes off what was quickly becoming carnage. One of the last things I remember seeing clearly were people lying flat on the road, taking cover behind those who had already been wounded or shot dead … lying in what must have been pools of blood to avoid a hail of flying hot hell.