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Inside the labyrinth

labyrinth    /lab-uh-rinth

. an intricate combination of paths or passages in which it is difficult to find ones way or to reach the exit.


You never know when you’re in the labyrinth until you’re to far down the rabbit hole and you’re looking up at everybody passing by and u try but it seems u cant join them. For me it was the day i picked up the book Looking For Alaska By John Green. It was also in this book that i discovered i had depression. For years i didn’t tell anyone i was too ashamed and my mother always engraved in me that white people created the word depression for there problems, black people don’t go through that. So i dismissed everything but it only got worst and it seemed that i was just getting up to go back to sleep, i was not doing the things i loved anymore. This book helped me unravel what was going on in my head and depression was just a name for it. I’m not quite out of the labyrinth i have my moments and my days but with my strength and the help of my best friend i am able to join the rest of the people.


Looking for Alaska quotes * my fav

“You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.”

“She said, “It’s not life or death, the labyrinth.”

“Um, okay. So what is it?”
“Suffering,” she said. “Doing wrong and having wrong things happen to you. That’s the problem. Bolivar was talking about the pain, not about the living or dying. How do you get out of the labyrinth of suffering?… Nothing’s wrong. But there’s always suffering, Pudge. Homework or malaria or having a boyfriend who lives far away when there’s a good-looking boy lying next to you. Suffering is universal. It’s the one thing Buddhists, Christians, and Muslims are all worried about.”

“Before I got here, I thought for a long time that the way out of the labyrinth was to pretend that it did not exist, to build a small, self-sufficient world in a back corner of, the endless maze and to pretend that I was not lost, but home. But that only led to a lonely life accompanied only by the last words of the looking for a Great Perhaps, for real friends, and a more-than minor life’.

‘When she fucked up, all those years ago, just a little girl terrified. into paralysis, she collapsed into the enigma of herself. And I could have done that, but I saw where it led for her. So I still believe in the Great Perhaps, and I can believe in it spite of having lost her.’

‘I still think that, sometimes, think that maybe “the afterlife” is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe she was just a matter, and matter gets recycled.’

‘When adults say “Teenagers think they are invincible” with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don’t know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are.

We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.

So I know she forgives me, just as I forgive her. Thomas Eidson’s last words were: “It’s very beautiful over there.” I don’t know where there is, but I believe it’s somewhere, and I hope it’s beautiful.”



This post first appeared on Me Before You, please read the originial post: here

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Inside the labyrinth

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