The last picture is very telling. I have been in a clinic for depression once and met one of strongest persons I did ever encounter. She was smart, bright, funny and her mind felt so similiar to mine, as did the experience of suffering. She was strong, so unbelievably strong, bursting with light, she gave the impression, from all the people, she, bristling with life, she will make it. And she is. She is the one who is more. It's been two years, and just now thinking on it, writing, I can't even put the emotions into words. I'm angry. I feel rage. I want to scream. I feel society ignores those, that suffocate in silence. Ignoring, not understanding, not even trying, or even calling it cowardice. It's not cowardice, it's a fight, over years, every week, every day, most of the hours. No break, no vacation. It's living beyond the breaking point.