#Suicidal? Remember. There's always time to die.
If you want to die, go do something you love now.
There will be time for death. Make time for love. ♡

Life is hard. It gets better. It gets worse. Wheel turns.
Find what makes you happy while you have this time.
Death will wait.
#reasonstolive Sharing ideas and experiences. Reading new worlds. Writing emotion. Drawing imagination. Vivid color. Rainbows through glass. Light sparkling on water. Dancing in moonlight. Climbing trees. Sleeping in a bed. Soft textures. Flower petals. Veins in leaves and skin.
#reasonstolive Touching the edge of the endless, overwhelming, humbling power of an ocean. The sounds of violins and flutes. Singing, composing, making, and listening to music. Reaching transcended meditative states of euphoria or calm. Relaxing in warm sunshine with a breeze.
#reasonstolive Hoarding shiny rocks and paper books. Traveling to new lands. Local adventures. Diversity of language. Songbirds. Poetry. Watching wild creatures who will live an entire life untamed and free. The faces of angry kittens. Foxes jumping. Crows being sleek and sassy.
#reasonstolive Ancient forests. Hugging trees and telling them how proud you are for doing a good job. Touching carved and polished wood. Sleeping with cute plushies. The smell of metal and electric industry workshops and warehouses. Fire. Candles. Underwater plants undulating.
#reasonstolive The taste and scent of cinnamon in the air or on lips. Fresh fruit and fish. Eating delicious food that will not hurt you. Floating downriver. Boats. Ships. Sails billowing in string wind. Watching humans with long hair get it tangled around their mouth. Laughter.
#reasonstolive Being able to use devices or a body to move, or even walk, or even run, or even skip, or even jump, or even climb, until you feel powerful and independent and able to escape what ails you. Finding peace in idle moments. Self sought isolation. Faded scars as badges.

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More from @Hazarcl

Jul 15, 2018
Lying is so unreal to me. Why would you purposefully say something you know isn't true? I understand mistakes. I erroneously say things that are not true because at the time my extent of knowledge does not reveal otherwise. Intentionally spreading misinformation causes confusion!
If anyone has some reading recommendations for me on why people lie, or do dishonest things like cheating, stealing, and sneakily killing, I'd appreciate. It's been decades and I still don't understand why people want to cause problems for themselves and others. It lacks honor!
No saint claim. I'd never intentionally lie, cheat, steal, or sneakily kill, but I AM violent and have vices and beliefs not beneficial to others. Yet integrity is at the crux of me. I deeply believe in honor, truth, justice, passion, and beauty! Why doesn't everyone value these?
Read 8 tweets
May 18, 2018
I think a lot about how I'm Ojibwe, but a mix who looks little like the rest of my Native family. My eyes are blue, my skin is pale, and my natural hair is ashen blonde. I have my mother's high cheekbones and wide forehead and long limbs and feet meant for climbing mountainsides.
Yet when I go to pow wows, members of my extended family look at me sideways and wonder who the pale faced stranger is. I feel as if I'm considered an intruder among my own people. I share the same blood, but not the same appearance. My blood is but a drop of red in clear waters.
I am a pale Native American. Am I a ghost here? What of those whose blood sings with this earth, as well as that of unknown foreign lands? Do we belong nowhere? Do we belong here? I'm only a mix, among a nation filled with millions of mixed. We are the lost and invisible Natives.
Read 5 tweets
May 8, 2018
Home is where the heart is. I remember when my home was a person and a handful of desperately clenched ideas. I had lost everything that felt like me, except for art, adventure, and a stranger who convinced me to stay atop a bridge. Art became my reason to live, but to be... (1)
...alive, you need a home. My home was transient. I was a freshman at #PNCA when I survived sexual assault. After months of secrecy and unhealthy self coping, I told my mum how I had been raped. I had been a virgin by firm choice, with truly zero inclination to have sex... (2)
...yet my mum's response was to say that maybe I had deserved it. Then she told me to get out. I no longer had a dorm room. I no longer had any room. I was a college sophomore and homeless. I slept in bushes, trees, parks, elevators, atop buildings, on docks, under bridges... (3)
Read 14 tweets

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