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Eva

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Hundesohn

by Ozan Zakariya Keskinkılıç

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(page 55 of 219)
— Nov 07, 2025 07:36AM

Nov 06, 2025 12:17AM

“The more you think life is about having stuff and superiority and showing it off, the more unhappy, and the more depressed and anxious, you will be.”
― Johann Hari, Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression - and the Unexpected Solutions

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“So instead of seeing your depression and anxiety as a form of madness, I would tell my younger self—you need to see the sanity in this sadness. You need to see that it makes sense. Of course it is excruciating. I will always dread that pain returning, every day of my life. But that doesn’t mean the pain is insane, or irrational. If you touch your hand to a burning stove, that, too, will be agony, and you will snatch your hand away as quickly as possible. That’s a sane response. If you kept your hand on the stove, it would burn and burn until it was destroyed.”
― Johann Hari, Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression - and the Unexpected Solutions

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“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

tags: dance, music

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“What if depression is, in fact, a form of grief—for our own lives not being as they should? What if it is a form of grief for the connections we have lost, yet still need?”
― Johann Hari, Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression - and the Unexpected Solutions

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“Trauer tritt in so vielen Formen auf. Sie ist wie ein Licht, das ein- und ausgeschaltet wird. Sie ist da, sie ist nicht auszuhalten, dann verschwindet sie, weil sie unerträglich ist, weil man sie nicht permanent ertragen kann. Man wird gefüllt und geleert. Tausend Mal am Tag vergaß ich, dass Ole-Jakob tot war. Tausend Mal am Tag fiel es mir plötzlich wieder ein. Beides war unerträglich. Ihn zu vergessen war das Schlimmste, was ich tun konnte. An ihn zu denken war das Schlimmste, was ich tun konnte. Kälte kam und ging. Wärme kam nie. Es gab nur Kälte und die Abwesenheit von Kälte. Wie mit dem Rücken zum Meer zu stehen. Eiskalte Knöchel jedes Mal, wenn eine Welle anrollte. Sie lief ab. Dann kam sie wieder.”
― Stig Sæterbakken, Through the Night

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