Depression is just like any season, it will change, and before you know it you will see the first flower blooming. Then another. Then another. Before you know if your whole life will be in bloom. And you'll no longer remember the winter.
If you fucking rip my hairbow and my wig off my fucking head, my shoes, my bra, every single thing on my body, and you throw me on a piano with a microphone, I will fucking make you cry.