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It’s been so long since I‘ve woken up and felt inspired to make the day my bitch. I miss being silly, I miss feeling gratitude. I want to notice life again; feel the pulse of the earth beating alongside mine.
I spend my time dulling myself on Instagram, or dreaming about my future in the mountains or ocean or California—somewhere magical where I’m happy.
Be where your feet are. That’s the mantra that was grinded into me a few summers ago. Be present and you’ll be happy. Somewhat, I’ve been trying this. meditation once a week or occasional yoga. But I’m not doing enough to make a serious impact.
May this post be my marker. The year is pretty much still fresh, spring is coming (hopefully), and I pledge to be more presen. I shall wake up ready to happy light and go to bed with a belly full of tea. Let the joy return!!!!!!
Feb 28, 2025
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This is exactly where I am too. Now but also for a few years. But some days are better, it’s true. I like the mantra. I shall borrow it. I don’t know how to tackle the burnout and that bothers me.
About the tea before bed though - that will make you pee a lot during the night.
I take things literally so that thought bothers me.
You got this!!! Spring is just around the corner :) although if ur from NM u know spring is the worst season there
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During every season of change, I get so caught up in the muck, fuck-up and duck of it. My thoughts start reflecting these rush-hour based beliefs (I should’ve gotten more done, I’m not doing enough).
after an honest therapy session yesterday, I realized that the root of a lot of my recent heartaches are from the way I speak about myself, think about myself. Instead of considering how hard I work, how much I try, I‘ve been pouring pebbles into my soup and wondering why it was so hard to eat. In other words: I’m real mean to myself.
I’ve attached what this open book page can be, and I just come write a little note on it whenever I return from my journey from the outside world. It feels nice to be nice, truly.
I have no timeline to finish this, no minimum level of detail I need to explain my actions. It’s going to be very sweet to reflect with every version of myself who paused, took off her coat, picked a coloured pen, and appreciated what she is, who she’s becoming.
Feb 7, 2025
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been feeling v compelled lately to practice self-respect in the form of dedicating time and energy into honing my creative skills despite the loathsome grind of my 8 - 5 job.
i spent a lot of time and money and emotional energy to get the job i have now and i don't hate what i do but i do know that there's more to all of this beautiful life than playing it safe and getting sucked into a monotonous cycle.
loving and respecting myself means devoting myself to my higher aspirations. deep down i know my soul glows brightest when i create and i'm seen thru that work.
i'm on a ferocious pursuit to brighten that glow every day and i hope you are too if you feel that same impulse.
Feb 13, 2024
i forgot my headphones at home. i was about to either
1) pump black country new road
2) watch brooklyn 99.
i miss being passionate about things, not being able to sleep, eat, speak,
or fathom anything beyond the apple
of my eye and the fruit of my thoughts.
i miss waking up with one thing in mind, how i would explore it that day, and how i would explore it the next
it’s been people
it’s been sewing
guitar
driving
religion
philosophy
photography
writing
filming
blogging
i think, regardless of any tik tok data explosion with the intention of ripping out each of my brain cells to keep me submissive and docile because of a wrecked attention span, i’m not a girl of her commitments- i get bored.
and i am bored. i feel this lack of passion so deeply in my body, its been a catalyst for the recent crashouts ive had ( and there’s been plenty) i don’t know how to stay, and work hard, and allow myself to grow to what i want to be right in this instance. not to shine my own shoes, but i’m not super used to being bad at things. i’ve always always always coasted, and now that im trying to be a gaf (give a fuck) filled girl, ive realized, sucking at something hurts a lot more when you’ve put in the work to be good at it.
if it wasn’t me writing this, and my best friend called me and told me this word for word, i would tell her how normal that feeling was, and that she herself knew what to do; commit. and that is my advice, dear sweet amalia, commit, commit, commit.
Feb 18, 2025
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Feb 21, 2025
Sometimes I hear a melody or harmony or rhythm thats so sweet or brilliant or grooving that I get almost mad. A brew of hope, jelousy, and pure apreciaton wells in my stomache crescendoing to a twisted face hanging off a dancing head.
Feb 21, 2025
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Soon I'm starting college and leaving my home. My parents, my family, the houses I grew up in, the towns I know, they all will shrink in the rearview as the roads become unfamiliar. Outisde the window, the budding fields will flower, then grow sparse, then livestock will graze until on all sides surrounds a desertscape split by a lonely road.
Im not scared of the sand or what lies at the horizon line. I'm just anxious about meeting this chrysalis. Will I remember the green hue of my catapillar skin? What about the grasses that keep me safe?
I know my childhood isn't lost; the butterfly or moth I become will have the same guts. It's just honestly hard for me to accept how much childhood I've already spent. Hard to lay rest to the virtues and aspirations a young larva once held so tightly.
We're always crysalizing, constantly cocooning; simultaneously one thousand larva one thousand cacoons one thousand moths. I guess I just convinced myself to enjoy it.
May 8, 2025