01/01/2026
๐ฆ๐ฒ๐น๐ณ-๐ฝ๐ผ๐ฟ๐๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ถ๐.
For a long while I receded, nearly unnoticeable.
As one approaching the solstice says ๐ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ช๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ
I said ๐๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ข ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ?
Needs and demands of domesticity pulled all the parts I had called my own,
and how do you find yourself in nothingness?
It was an impossible exercise, asking and expecting, and hearing only echoes. My voice in the void, or a void where my voice once was.
Ashes to embers,
after years of burnout, I've found space to feel again.
Hearing my voice again through stillness, sometimes, through love.
But mostly by moving through endless waves of grief and flares of hot rage.
Allowing it all to shape me and inform me instead of thinking I shouldn't feel it.
[๐๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ข ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฎ, ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ช๐ง๐ฆ, ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ง๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ - ๐ธ๐ฉ๐บ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ข๐ญ๐ธ๐ข๐บ๐ด ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐บ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด?]
Feeling is an uncomfortable and necessary forge, and life is hard. I'll thank you for the gifts one day, but 2025 you were brutal.
Cheers to hard-won beginnings,
Alysa ๐ฅโจ
#2025
