SERENDIPITY

Natasha (NJ.) | 30 | My Book | IG

[nostalgicjoy]

Is it too much to hope for "dear december" ? I miss your posts at all. Oh, yes I'm the brazilian fan who sent you your last published message here. Again and Always cheers from brazil (and hope you and your family has a happy xmas and a happy new years eve)

Hi hello, I’m sorry for such a late response. I haven’t gone on my blog for quite some time. It means a lot that you still check in and that you miss my posts and writing. I miss my own writing as well. I haven’t touched a pen to write poetry in what seems like a long time. I hope you are well and have been having a lovely 2026 so far xx

[nostalgicjoy]

dear summer,

When the shards of sunlight have finally pierced through my cerulean sky, I think I can start opening the bottle cans of memories. Time has been nothing but kind to you. To me. To all the lovers who held me softly with tangerine-scented hands. Tell me, what do dreams taste like when dripping with saltwater? What do people sound like under the endless heat? What do memories feel like after you’ve run your sunflower fingers over them and coated them with nostalgia?

Honey-stained and rain-soaked, we can still jump off the pier and freefall into an icy-blue lake, tasting the dusk-colored waters and feeling wild all the while. Starting anew, you say. See all that is blooming in life. And maybe everything just feels surreal when you watch all the hope bubbling in people’s mouths and all the messy, peach-tender laughter brimming in their eyes. Sometimes, the clouds hit the sea edge just right and you think nothing else could ever be so dizzyingly beautiful and brightly alive.

[sunsetquotes]

You must allow yourself to outgrow and depart from certain eras of your life with a gentle sort of ruthlessness.

Katy Maxwell; girl of the earth

[weltenwellen]

Joy Sullivan, from "(Luck I)", Instructions for Traveling West

[nostalgicjoy]

I just want to say that I miss your "letter to month" , I follow you since 2017/2018 and I know times go on (by the way, congrats for the books and your marriage), but still I miss that kind of "every 1st of every month" when I come here and there's no more "Dear May" (about today May 1st). Hope someday you have some free time to update here again. Cheers from Brazil big fan <3

Hi, sweet thing. This is so kind of you and I’m humbled to know you’ve followed me for so long and miss my writings. I do sometimes miss the monthly letters too. My last attempt at it was back in February 2024 - and the last touch of writing in general. Thank you for sending this message truly. It warms my heart and I also hope to someday return to more poetry :)

[kosmogrl]

[clementines-and-pearls]

I love escapism, I love being away from the cruel world, so I find warmth in small things. Buying chamomile to fall asleep and smell a fragrant floral scent; going to bed with a soft toy, imagining that you are hugging someone; baking pancakes to feel cozy in your small room.

I want my everyday life to be filled with beauty.

[nostalgicjoy]

“What comes to your mind when I say the word almost? Do you still check under your bed for monsters? What about mirrors? What is your first memory? What is your most treasured memory? If you can have the ability to remember everything, would you want to? What don’t you want to remember? If I say heartbreak, do you see a face or feel the emotion first? Who would be your last phone call and what would you say? Are you afraid of the future? Can you miss a place you’ve never been to? How many friends have you lost touched with? If you could take pain away, would you take away yours or someone else’s? When you look at your reflection, what do you look at first? Can you perfect opening up to someone if you practice it enough? Would you want to? Does running away from problems count as moving forward? What do you think of before going to sleep? Do you check your phone as soon as you wake up? If yes, what are you searching for? Who is first on your emergency contact list? How many books have you read in the past year? When you read a book, do you skim the ending first? Do you have smooth or rough hands? Where do you go when you need to be alone? If home is a person, who is yours? What saddens you more - unfulfilled dreams or a life alone? Who did you want to be when you were a child? Who do you want to be now?”

— (NJ.) // who are you? part 1

[decaffinated-dreams]

It is November. The year on its deathbed. I have outlived my body so many times these months. Like wildflowers in concrete, I am trying to grow between the syllables of my name.

[nostalgicjoy]

Who do you first go to when you have good news? Is it the same person when you have bad news? Do you make eye contact with strangers you pass by on the street? If I say love, what comes to your mind first? Where do you feel the safest? How often do you go there? If home is a heartbeat, is it your own or someone else’s? What keeps you awake at night? Do you believe in second chances? How about third? Do you still makes wishes on birthday candles?Are you uncomfortable with silence when you’re in a group setting? If so, why? Which do you dread more: making a phone call or answering a phone call? Do you believe in miracles? When you’re meeting someone for the first time, do you look at something first or do you look for something? When did you stop kissing your parents goodbye? Would you rather relive a certain moment or forget a certain moment? Why? Do you see the glass half-full or half-empty? If you were to list the names of the people you love, what would be the first name? How far down the list does your name appear?

(NJ.) // who are you? part 2

[nostalgicjoy]

Dear September,

Today I let go of all the layers of skin wedged in between my molar teeth, and I think I’ve finally won the wars between me and my past selves. I don’t exactly have the language to describe this loss, but it feels a bit like hypothermia but less icy and more warm. I’m no longer a fragile being. At least, not in the way they want me to be. I want to carve up the world and save more spaces for all the love I’ve been putting in the backseat. And now I’m glowing crimson. All blush and apple-red from people who leave touches of light on my nape and palms. If there is one thing I have learned from all of this, it is this - you can make room for anything. Build a house out of nothing but rib bones and dirt, until finally there is a heart and a hunter green yard. Tell me, what is a home anyway without some flesh wounds? Today I woke up with my seams unraveled and all that scarred epidermis peeled off, and just light pouring out and out. Glowing and glow-

[flowrrs4u]

I am good. I am loved.

[schuylerpeck]

schuylerpeck / instagram: hiitssky / facebook

[nostalgicjoy]

“Where is your safe haven? If you were to pick a memory to forget, what would it be? Why? Does running from commitments count as exercise? If you could go anywhere right now, would you come up with a place or a name? How often do you read a text and purposefully wait hours to respond back? Who would be your first call after an accident? If I say love, do you see a face first or feel the emotion? Do you check your phone often when you’re out with friends? Do you have a good poker face? Who was your first kiss? Is that person still in your life? Do you take some time to check in on your closest friends every now and then? Do you believe in love at first sight? If not, who ruined it for you? How early do you put up Christmas lights? If something makes you laugh loudly, do you cover your mouth or try to muffle it in any way? If so, why? Do you ever count yourself as your own best friend? If someday is now, are you living the way you want to live? If money is not a problem, what would you be doing with your life right now? Where do you keep your secrets? Who knows them all? Are you more of a morning person or a night owl? Have you ever hold onto something an ex gave you? Would you want the ability to replay your dreams? When you talk about a past love, does your voice shake? Do you pause too? Where on your body do you feel anger? What about sadness? Do you wear your heart on your sleeve? Would you be comfortable to? What is your favorite color? What would that say about you? Does forgetting count as starting over?”

— (NJ.) // who are you? part 3

[academia-lucifer]

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

— Oscar Wilde.

[nostalgicjoy]

“Where is your heart? How long has it been there? If you could fill in the cracks, would you? What would you fill them with? If we all have skeletons in our closets, what kinds are in yours? Do you ever open your closet? What keeps you soft? Where is your gentle? If our dreams are just things that our subconscious is telling us, what is yours saying? Are you listening to it? Would you go back to the past and change it if you had the chance and ability to? Why? Does forgetting count as moving on? Do you listen or do you just hear? Where is your soft landing? What’s the nearest object to you? What is its significance? If your home burns down, what would you grab first? Who would you take to your last dance on earth? Who is your greatest what if? If love is a feeling, how does it feel for you? If love is a choice, what do you do with that? Sunset or sunrise? How would you describe your life in colors? What do those say about you? Where does love go when the person is no longer there? Where is yours? Would you take it back? When you look up at the stars during a clear night sky, do you feel small? Do you ever hope that someone is looking up at the same time as you? Does that someone have a name? Where do you keep your promises? Where are you now? Where are you heading to?”

— (NJ.) // who are you? part 4

[nostalgicjoy]

February,

Today you brought more sun than January did in her 31-day stay in my home. I looked up and basked in your warm light. Wore it around my neck. Tuck it in my back pocket. I’ve been waiting to come alive and feel awake. Look for water in the trees. Yearn for air from people’s mouths. Search for heart in the night sky. The days have been lonely, dear February. Lonely in the way the stars hide in the mornings. In the way my ghosts retreat into closets when someone knocks on my door. Lonely in the way I’m stretched and shaped to fit the outline of what happy is supposed to look like. The days have been tiring, dear February. But at least today you gave me a glimmer of hope.