meadowlark @mmeadowlarkk - Tumblr Blog

Artemis II

Four people went to the moon, they named craters after their loved ones. A journey to the stars and their favorite part was each other. I declared myself a hyper independent some weeks ago, I have been that before and I have successfully stayed off of deep connections and more profound aches. I do not forget that love came to tackle my default setting, she runs in my veins, it took a group of four astronauts to remind me I knew this in the war: it's the company that matters.

#Artemis #nostalgia #public journal #poets on tumblr #moon #caroll

Rage is a personality

My favorite days are when I hate you. I get to create, love, appreciate, root for myself then. I have discovered I want to be an angry person; angry people rule their world. For over a year I've been trying to reach rage, and when I do I feel superior. Me, I am full of nostalgia instead. Made of pain and a death wish that rarely lets me breathe. There are days like today, however, when I can understand the power of being so gentle on me that I can put the weight of my pain on those who actually caused it. And boy, do I know their full names and birth charts.

#female rage #nostalgia #public journal #poets on tumblr

bedeliainwonderland

Incorrect bedannibal quotes

March 6th

A propósito del 2016, el 6 de Marzo de mi 2016 pasé mi primer noche en Ixtapa. Llegué directo a desempacar una serie de luces en forma de estrella para que mi cuarto se sintiera mío; colgué mis fotos, saqué las cartas selladas, seguro escribí algo. Apagué la luz para dormir con mis estrellas de colores, y me quedé dormida llorando. Similar a mi primer día de kinder, que me senté a ver mis coletas, mi falda blanca de tablones: sonreí mientras empecé a llorar. Es que yo siento el desgarre cuando me arrancan una etapa del cuerpo. Había logrado mis sueños adolescentes, no podía creer que ya no iba a contarle a mi abuela, y tampoco quería confesar que hubiera preferido tener 7 años para siempre. Pero mis luces de estrellas se veían lindas, y me esperaba el resto de mi vida al día siguiente –más un desmayo, un jugo de manzana, y nuevas amigas que siguen presentes–. Después de ese 6 de Marzo, la historia ha sido solo mía. Aprendí cosas que son indispensables para crecer desde el mantenimiento básico de una casita (mi primera regadera la vino a instalar Karen Villarreal un par de semanas después de que llegué, ella y Majo me visitaron primero), a valorar las visitas (hasta hoy mi parte favorita de vivir lejos), a mandar y recibir flores, a sentirme acompañada cuando me llamaban para preguntar qué había comido. Conocí suficientes historias para reconocer que mis papás fueron adorablemente perfectos. Entendí que hay personas que necesitan compartir espacio y contexto para incluirte en sus vidas, y quienes no te olvidan así pasen años, playas, aniversarios. Nos seguimos conociendo. Imposible enlistar lo que ha pasado en 10 años, tengo pocas cosas en común con mi versión de ese momento. Gracias, Ixtapa. Fuiste por mi hasta la Riviera Maya, me trajiste de vuelta 8 años después. Te aprovechaste de que yo voy a donde Dios me diga, sin miedo ni preguntas. En el camino he perdido tanto, que lo tengo todo.

#nostalgia #public journal #vibes #2016 tumblr

I kept saying the blood moon had let me rest.

Innocently thinking it meant she let me deep sleep, but I woke up with an answered prayer.

An overnight miracle I had lost hope on: I stopped caring.

I feel the release of this blockage, so tangible it even left space in my stomach. All of a sudden I’m hungry.

The door closed on its own, softly, while I dreamed of my dead loved ones. The frame merged with the wall, the beginning and the end no longer traceable.

Three times I went through March and on the third one I was finally set free.

#poets on tumblr #vibes #public journal #nostalgia #soulmates #soul ties

machinot

when u look at 2017 and think “oh that’s only like 3 years ago” and it’s actually 12,000 years ago and everything is gone and everyone you know has been reduced to ash and the world is completely different

Despite all the rage I am kind.

Staying kind to myself first, has been the real challenge. I can stay angry at unanswered questions about "endings" that have left me paralized for a while, until I'm able to supress the memories, the names, their motives. That's on me and the weight I am willing to carry, I will one day want to let it not be heavy on me. But sometimes it still is. In those instances is when I have to face (with more grace, more patience each time) that I am the same body that experienced my life 10 years ago, 10 months ago, and for the rest of it. I have no intention on looking back, but I also will not fight to delete who I have been, the love I have felt, the sacrifices I have made, the people I've lost. It's all real, it's all a part of me. I refuse to become salt, I will not be Lot's wife. Forward is where I'm headed. As I am, with everything I have ever been.

#public journal #nostalgia

m-zdnmh-deactivated20260327

and sometimes against all odds, against all logic, we hope.

odos-oneirwn

Μη σταματάς να ονειρεύεσαι.

Remember who you are.

Seems like I often forget, I have gotten my way sooner or later. Always for the better. Every time I haven't gotten what I wanted, the catastrophy I was saved from is revealed to me. The same God that gives me peace to accept the rain, rewards me with sunshine. It takes a minute for life to take dramatic turns and I am grateful that I am here today. I have been profoundly loved, that is all I know.

#nostalgia #poets on tumblr #public journal #vibes

Hope is an imaginary friend.

We were told my father would die in under 72 hours, no medical help at all, unconscious, against all scientific explanation, he took 12 days to leave this world. Twelve agonizing days for us, where we held our breaths, we took it one hour at a time, always aware that the next minute could be his last one. Hour by hour, for twelve days. 288 hours, the wait was so painful that halfway through: I started hoping. "What if he wakes up? There must be a reason he's here against all odds. There has to be an explanation and maybe it's a testimony, a miracle. He might be healing with all the detox, it could be a mistake." My mother had a breakdown. She was screaming to God: "we have prayed for a miracle", "we have surrendered", "he didn't survive", "he can't die either." Are we all being severely punished after living a gentle life? Must none of us rest? I waited so patiently for the worst, that I convinced myself it may really be for the best, that it was being so slow and so painful because there would be a reward. Past midnight on day 12, he exhaled one last time. Hope, then, was an ilusion. Last time I trusted hope, my father died a painful death. And I stand here placing my faith in God's will and my ability to carry myself through the rest of my life. Trying really hard to remember that Hope is an imaginary friend. Blind faith may lead me, I have no will left in me.

#nostalgia #poets on tumblr #public journal #vibes #coffee #hope

I’ll get used to never getting answers and time will take me far away from today.

I will stop knocking on a closed door, I will give my knuckles a rest.

The past is over.

It can touch me not.