Can someone explain to me why depression starts to hit harder when you’re close to a birthday? Or is that just me? It seems like no matter the circumstance around that time; I want to go ghost.
Why do people get mad when black people are casted in roles where race doesn’t matter but then when a white person insists on being (SPECIFICALLY) an Asian character, it’s ok? Very weird.
Completely sobbed watching Cynthia Erivo’s full speech mentioning how exhausted she was at the NAACP awards while having the Wicked press run and how Keke Palmer’s words lifted her spirits up.
This woman’s strength and vulnerability will forever inspire me.