Taken from Robert Crumb’s Plunge Into The Depths Of Despair (1983)
And if anyone wants these comic strips in a PDF form:
I have a friend who is struggling. He’s close to rock bottom but he still takes time out of his life to send me pictures of the places he is. Sometimes it is some view from a garage roof, sometimes it is the Gulf. Yesterday it was this little bird.
I can’t help him. I can’t save him. The hardest thing about friendship is allowing myself to be a friend and not a savior. Not easy. Not for me, I’m a fixer. Funny. A fixer and can’t fix myself.
Still it humbles me to think that he is out there struggling but still takes the time to ask how I am doing and send me pictures. They are always perfect. Even when it is a little brown bird.
Or midnight Marigolds.
He may find his way out of this. He may not. Either way I’ll hold his hand until it is time for me to let go of it. Not a popular opinion or belief. Meeting people where they are and accepting their choices in life is all I can offer.
So here is a little bird.
I got a new tablet recently (Samsung Galaxy Tab “S”), and I’m interested in finding an app that will let me try to draw things.
Can any of you recommend a good FREE app for this?
I see a number of options in the app store but don’t know what ones are trash. The ones I’ve tried so far have been disappointing.
All I want to do is sketch things and doodle, then save the picture so I can post it here if it’s not too horrible.
I tried one called “Sketch Guru” but it didn’t work so I uninstalled it.
There was another one called “Sketchbook” by Autodesk which seemed kind of questionable. They kept hinting that it wasn’t really going to be free, and wanted me to click on licensing agreements. I uninstalled that one quickly too.
If I can’t find a good free sketchpad app, I guess I could just doodle on sheets of actual paper, and take pictures of it, and post the pictures.
I’m not a particularly good artist, so keep those expectations low. I remain amazed at the great artwork some of you post here. Incredible stuff. Sketches and paintings and other visual art. Hazy, Jiminy, Phantom, October_Rain, and everyone else who’s posted something.
I have no intention of becoming a serious professional artist; I just want to have fun dabbling in it. My favorite art form will always be music.
Anyway, any recommendations for sketchpad/sketchbook apps?
They are never interested in me, no matter how compelling it might be to think they are.
Also, I must make a point of viewing pictures of real dead bodies and videos of suicides to become desensitized the reality of my own death and the idea of my corpse.
As a Brit living abroad, here’s a couple of pictures to help you remember the what it’s like back in the old country. The first one was taken in Hampshire (where else!) at a place called Old Winchester Hill. It’s my favourite spot in the world and where I want my ashes scattered when the time comes. You wouldn’t think there could be so many shades of green. It’s a green and pleasant land indeed – well at least in this one small corner of it!
These are the roses growing in my garden. The scent is wonderful and perfumes the air around the font door during June each year. I think May and June in England is beautiful.
Thank you for taking the time to engage with me….I can be a grumpy ***** sometimes and completely unreasonable (though that could be down to the menopause I ‘spose!)
hi, my name is Julianna and this is my story.
I’ve been bullied like crazy since I’ve moved to Alaska. I’ve made some bad decisions and I regret them very much. Boys here like to take advantage of me. I always saw the good in them. They ask me to be their girlfriend. After a few days in the middle of the night they ask me to send them nude pictures of myself. They tell me they love me and that this is what people that trust and love each other do. I sent them. Recently a boy I’ve like for many months did this to me. I fell for it again. I always saw him as a perfect angel. After I sent him the pictures he sent them and showed them to everyone. I don’t even know some of the people that he showed the pictures to. Now my life is finally over. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m suicidal again. I was 3 months clean until now. I need help. If anyone could show me or help me please let me know. Everything I could possibly have left from the hell I’ve been living in has completely left. I hope you read this and never do anything like what I did.
Today, I logged on to see a lot of posts on the forum by a lot of people I care deeply about. A lot of you are hurting tonight, and I’m sorry.
I thought some of you might appreciate these pictures of my
cat son, Copper. I feel like I don’t post about him nearly enough.
If this pink-nosed little monster brought even the faintest smile to your lips just now, then I consider this post a complete success. You all will be in my thoughts tonight, every one of you.
There was a time i was an active user on this sight. tho it was a long ago, i doubt anyone on this sight recognises my user name, i first came here back around 2010/2011. so im old school SP, when i joined the sight was different, we didnt even have things beside our names, nevermind being able to put pictures in beside our names. I came here looking for a suicide partner, someone to go out with. i spent every waking moment reading of ways to die, and i found many easy ways out. but this place gave me the one thing i didnt have. a support network, people who listened and cared and people who helped me get to through the worst of it. i still wonder what happened to those people. is there anyone here from back then who remembers the old timers?
“Latterly during the loneliness in which he found himself as he lay facing the back of the sofa, a loneliness in the midst of a populous town and surrounded by numerous acquaintances and relations but that yet could not have been more complete—either at the bottom of the sea or under the earth—during that terrible loneliness Ivan Ilyich had lived only in memories of the past. Pictures of his past rose before him one after another. They always began with what was nearest in time and then went back to what was most remote—to his childhood—and rested there.”
-Leo Tolstoy (The Death of Ivan Ilyich)
This exactly how I have felt for a long time. When I say that I live in the past, this is what I mean. I used to sit around with visions of past memories. I used to like to lay down and put on some music that reminds me of the past and I sort of… time travel. If I were to have actually gone through with my plans, I imagine to have been like this. “They always began with what was nearest in time and then went back to what was most remote—to his childhood—and rested there.”
I hate Facebook today.
Last night, I learned that a friend took her own life. Her Facebook page is full of pictures with her arms wrapped around her children, positive quotes, jokes, “happy” pictures with friends and deeply spiritual thoughts.
We post glimpses of our hearts not wide open pictures of our real life. We are careful not to show depth or vulnerability. God forbid that someone would see our flaws or pain.
I am learning that the keyboard becomes a template on which people create a persona according to what they believe will make them acceptable to the world. Facebook becomes that old carnival attraction, The House of Mirrors, where everything is distorted and nowhere close to the truth about who they are.
If they could only stop and realize that they are pretty amazing just being authentically them!
We have stopped now, as a society having genuine relationships. What ever happened to grabbing the hand of a loved one, looking into their eyes to see what’s really there, listening to their voice to hear the slight inflections that help us to recognize the pain?
We feel connected and up to date because we liked their status or commented on one of their pictures. We mistakenly think that we now know them only to find out that the hearts of their children, family members and loved ones have been ripped apart and broken by the loss of a mother, sister, daughter, aunt, wife and friend. Never to see her smile, hear her laugh, or feel her arms around them again. The ones she left behind can never be the same, never truly heal. But she was “happy” on Facebook.
On September 20th I saw her in a picture. She was smiling and toasting at a pub with friends watching a football game. Two days later, she was gone. Three months later I see a post from her family member on FB telling her how deeply she is missed. Perhaps I would have never known she passed if it weren’t for Facebook or perhaps our relationship would have been more than a superficial passing on the internet and I could have seen her real struggles face to face and loved her through them.
So now hopefully, I will pay real attention to the ones that are dear to me and let them know, face to face with my arms wrapped around them, that they are cherished.
I realize this is not the case with everyone and few resort to such extreme measures in their despair. FB has brought me closer to many I would have never seen or heard from again and opened up whole new communications. I am grateful for that. That is good.
But to my over to 700 friends on Facebook, I hope to see more of you, in real life in 2016!
My best friend retweeted this picture on Twitter. She took a lot of pictures of us together, because “it’s more difficult to remember when you’ve got no pictures,”. She used to mean that in a good way I think. In a way that means: “I want to remember every little second that I got to spend with you, so when we’re older we can look at the pictures and smile while we remember the old times,”
But now, I’m just a person in a lot of her pictures. A person that she lost. She lost me even before I killed myself. She lost me, because she left me.
“Sorry for breaking my promise,” she said.
“Yeah…” I replied.
Today was a day where I felt really suicidal again. Something that I hadn’t had for a little while now.
It feels like the only thing that is making me happy these days is slowely disappearing… But I need that so bad right now… Don’t go… Please….
ive always felt ugly. i am fat and ugly. i recently lost a lot of weight. i went from weighing 180lbs to weighing 145lbs but now i weigh 160lbs and i am just so ugly and weak. food is my weakness. i love food but i hate it at the same time. this happens all the time. i lose the weight but then i gain a lot of weight, i dont know why. i hate the way i look. it depresses me, it really really depresses me. i cry about it all the time. my body is a big issue of mine. i just cant seem to be happy because of the way that i look, there are a lot of other reasons why i am so very unhappy but my body issues is my biggest issue. i need to lose weight for the air force and i know i can do it but im scared. i dont want to be fat and ugly and disgusting for the rest of my life. i started to look back at old pictures of myself and i looked terrible. my fat was everywhere, i knew i was big but damn i am huge adn ugly. i had the worst double chin. everyone sees that i am ugly, everyone sees that i am ashamed from it. i have no confidence because of it. i can lose the weight and i will lose the weight but my confidence is at a low right now. i was so depressed from looking at my old pictures that i had to throw up. thats how bad it is, i make myself sick. i am terrible.
I’ve been thinking about you today. 14 years of you. 14 years filled with endless family tailgating, barbecues, alcohol, weed, and music. We haven’t been the same since I left for college a year ago. You broke me out of my shell, saved me from myself, and were the sister I never had. I know you’ve changed because you have all new friends, our mutual old ones don’t like you much. I can stop blaming myself for the most part. We needed this time apart because I was too dependent on you, I thought people needed you around to hang out with me. It’s not true, and I’ve gained a lot of independence since we stopped talking. Your sister told me something similar happened with her and her best friend and it was the hardest three years of her life and that this silence won’t last forever. I’ve started to come to terms with things I should have a long time ago. I still have our pictures, for some reason I can’t burn them like I can the letter I wrote to someone else because I know this won’t last forever. Just thinking a bit today.
No horny white boy, i do not want to see your penis
no horny white boy i do not want to exchange pictures
Yes horny white boy i do not want anything between us
No that does not mean come closer, be warned i have scissors
No horny white boy that does not mean i am a racist
No horny white boy this is not because your white
Horny white boy i wouldn’t take penis pictures regardless
No horny white boy just because your white does not make you right
Thanks for reading. Im that girl that use to post pictures and qoutes on SP. Im not a good writer, so i like to post pictures instead. This is my first post that i write something. Its a poem. The girl in the poem is me. I know its short. But i Hope you will like it. Can you guess whats the story behind the poem? Please comment what you think about it. Ty!
Im a murderer
I killed the girl
I used to be
The girl that used to have a
the girl that used to be
the girl that used to be
Now she is dead
Her world is a darker color
And has the odor of death
Behind that smile
is a hurting heart
Behind that laugh
she is falling apart
and you will see
that girl isnt who
she used to be
Im a murderer
I killed the girl
I used to be