I felt shame - I see this clearly, now - at the instinctive recognition in myself of an awful enfeebling fatalism, a sense that the great outcomes were but randomly connected to our endeavors, that life was beyond mending, that love was loss, that nothing worth saying was sayable, that dullness was general, that disintegration was irresistible.
Joseph O'NeillMots clés true depressing
I got an A on the third quiz in American history,
an A,
dammit.
Last time I got a B
up from a C
and my father said,
"if you can get a C
you can get a B,
if you can get a B
you can get an A."-
I got an A
and my father said,
"grades don't mean anything.
Mots clés sad depressing father grades
Watching the hole in the ever-fading light. It’s the size of a baby now, closing all the time. Narrower and narrower, until there’s barely room to fit an arm through. I’m thinking about quenching the light before the hole shuts—this is just torture—when a face suddenly appears. It’s Bran. The spell has passed and he’s come back. He wants to get through, to be with me. But the hole’s too small. He punches it, pulls at it, slips his fingers into the gap and strains with all his might—but it’s no good. The rock continues to grind together. The hole gets smaller, the width of a finger now.
At the last moment, Bran presses his mouth up to the hole and roars with raw pain and loss, at the top of his voice, “Bec!” It’s the only time he’s ever uttered my name. Anyone’s name. His anguished cry stabs at my heart and tears spring to my eyes. I open my mouth to shout his own name back, to offer whatever small shred of comfort I can… but then the rock closes all the way and a fierce rumbling drowns out the echoes of Bran’s cry.
I stare at the solid rock. My mouth closes. The light fades. Darkness.
Mots clés depressing bran bec runfast
He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.
Mots clés depressing
And will 'a not come again?
And will 'a not come again?
No, no, he is dead,
Go to thy death bed:
He will never come again.
Mots clés death depressing
From the moment we are born, we begin to die.
Janne TellerMots clés sadness nothing depressing janne-teller
She can paint a pretty picture but this story has a twist. The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist.
Amy EfawMots clés depressing emo
There was something horribly depressing, she felt, about watching the weather report. That life could be planned like the perfect summer picnic drained it of spontaneity.
Galt NiederhofferMots clés life feelings spontaneity summer weather depressing galt-niederhoffer the-romantics
I wanted to find one law to cover all of living. I found fear....
Michael OndaatjeMots clés depressing
from the beginning, through the
middle years and up to the
end:
too bad, too bad, too bad.
Mots clés insightful depressing
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