Anxiety and depression. Mental illness plays the role of the huge, wobbling, grey elephant in the room of our society. We all deal with both these problems to some extent. For some people, like myself, it’s an every day battle. But no one talks about it. A lot of people who don’t have mental illness or haven’t experienced it at some point in their lives don’t understand the severity of it, they think that it only exists in your head. You throw yourself an every day pity party and you’re the only one who bothers to show up. If you can’t see it, it’s not there. If you aren’t limping or squinting your black eye, the suffering is nonexistent. Recently, I’ve been struggling more than normal. I wish I could say that it’s a recent development, but it’s something I’ve struggled with for a long time. After years of keeping quiet, I’m here to skip the small talk. This isn’t for attention. I’m here to be genuine. I’m here to be real in a society …

    Hues of purple green and red dance around the ceiling, moving in and out of kaleidoscope figures. Four wandering minds but no one is speaking. Quiet hums of the song Drunk and with Dreams plays in the background. The moment is like a dream. The room is a grey cloud of smoke. A velvet couch softly kissing my skin. I feel as if I am fading into the milk plaster walls. When it quiets down, the moment takes on the loudest voice. Four hearts beating to the same song. A cool breeze slips through the window and I’m reminded that it’s February. The aroma of burnt popcorn doesn’t bother me anymore. “When I hear a song, I see colors,” Connor says quietly. “I see images and pictures. Moments of my life.” The candle burning on the table next to us flickers. It’s strange how each one of us had seen such different things in our short lives but we are all so present in one piece of time together. Our bodies, physically there next …