alaskaisnothere - Tumblr blog

[alaskaisnothere]

what if we created a discord for tumblr poets and we could share our thoughts and write together and bring the poetry side of tumblr back to life,,,, what if

[alaskaisnothere]

realizing i am thinking about you instead of the audiobook and going back 15 seconds on the libby app. realizing i am thinking about you instead of the groceries and i have been in this aisle forever, just staring at bread choices. realizing i am only on instagram to send you things. realizing i am thinking about you in the middle of my morning routine like you pardon the early hour just by existing.

little hopscotch moments where i get to nest in the memory of you. i get stuck, candycoated in the sound of your voice. the shape of your hands. the little spray of freckles over your cheeks. your hair fanned across my bedsheets. realizing i am thinking about you instead of applying for jobs. realizing i am thinking about you instead of writing poems. realizing the sound of your name has become a second heartbeat somewhere in the rabbit warren of me.

[alaskaisnothere]

isn't it funny how life is wonderful and messy and hard like one day you are crying your eyes out because you feel lost and the next day you are packing your stuff ready to leave your worries behind and start a new chapter in a different country and then you find all these people who love and support you and you still feel lost and you still have no idea what your life is supposed to look like but you're enjoying pink sunset and book dates at the park and overpriced coffees and maybe you just have to enjoy the breeze without expecting a storm

[alaskaisnothere]

Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me

[alaskaisnothere]

do you think that i would be into you if i wasn't mentally ill? or would that turn you off because that meant that i was just like all the other girls from your past? i'm trying to rationalize our relationship because i want to talk to you on my own terms, i don't care about your needs because you didn't care about mine when you dropped the bomb. and i hate how selfish that made me and i hate how you still make me laugh but you can't adhere to the picture of you i created in my head. just like i'm not the manic pixie dream girl you made me out to be. so we'll just go on our separate ways, our knuckles turning white because we can't seem to let go.

[alaskaisnothere]

how lucky are we to live in a world with small joys? raspberry bushes, trickling streams, sun-warmed patches of moss, bumblebees, home baked bread, fireplaces, knit sweaters, starry night skies, books that tell any story you can imagine — the earth happens to love us and if you are kind you will love her back.

[alaskaisnothere]

it's eclipse season and you can't look at me. you say that the sun always burned you and you can't be burned again. even though you've burned me, but that wasn't intentional so that doesn't count, you say. you wish i always rainy, because you only feel good when you feel bad. because that's familiar. because feeling bad takes no effort and you've only ever seen rock bottom and chained yourself there. is it too much work to improve yourself, sweet baby? you won't drag me down with you, either step up or enjoy the grave you've dug all those years. i don't take scraps anymore.

[alaskaisnothere]

I want to go to Alaska

[alaskaisnothere]

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

[alaskaisnothere]

the feminine, the masculine, the artistic urge to stare at the paintings until they make you hallucinate, to read poems until they seep inside your soul, to write such words that hold the power to shatter a person's heart and fill the void at the same time.

[alaskaisnothere]

2024 is the year we're being creative again. and i know it's the middle of April, don't get sassy with me. and i know my last post was last year and i haven't been consistent with my writing but progress isn't linear. life isn't linear. i stopped writing because writing carried expectations. writing made me competitive, mostly with myself, writing made me disappointed that my feelings weren't as big as other people's. do you know how lame it is to complain about having a little anxiety about your life when people are mourning their loved ones or processing trauma and i'm here like: hey look at these words, nothing is wrong with me but i just get a little sad sometimes. but screw that, i'll be cringe and i'll be lame but i'll be me. and i'm starting to like this version of me.

[alaskaisnothere]

when you're younger you make fun of it because it seems boring but one of the best parts of getting older and maturing is recognizing how simply lovely all that cliche shit is. sunsets really are so endlessly satisfying. the hint of lilacs in the breeze really is soft and delicate and sweet. sometimes it feels good just to successfully clean the sink, to find an affordable appliance in the color you've been wanting, to try a new recipe, to finally get through that one television series like how you've been meaning.

it seemed stupid because they tell you - it'll feel quick - but it does feel quick. when i was younger it was like time was molasses. i couldn't get out of there fast enough. all the eras of my life stretched out into taffy. but then you are 29 on a walk with a friend and you both just stop to smell the lily of the valley at your feet. you are both standing there, quiet, enjoying the simple moment of peace.

they say it gets better a lot, which used to have no meaning to me. better for me was undefined and daunting. but here is one way it got better without me trying - a few days ago i was walking my dog and stopped to stand in a sunbeam, turning my cheeks up at the shaft of golden fairylights, the dustmotes in the wood all shivering their little dancing bodies. a stranger stopped and kind of cocked her head and said basking? and i laughed nervously, already moving to get out of her way. instead, she said can i bask with you? and we stood there, full adults, a soundless hum in our chest. when the clouds came back over the sun, we made that awkward small talk - yeah i didn't expect it to be this chilly! and haha spring allergies are comin'.

and you pour yourself a cup of tea and are delighted when you measure the sugar ratio perfectly and you manage to parallel park correctly on the first time (probably because nobody was looking) and yoga really did help your lower back mobility and brown paper packages really do tug on your heartstrings and you love sweaters and furry blankets and watching your little potted plants grow one new and shining leaf and you want to find your younger self and say. yes, i am nostalgic for summers that bent like wheat and were buzzing with low energy and sleep. but darling. adulthood gets better because the time condenses into a prayerbook of your own psalms, these tender beautiful memories. it gets better because things become prettier, gentler, kinder to you - somehow. without you even noticing. you just get to the top of the hill and you realize - oh, this is the thing i've been missing.

[alaskaisnothere]

I don't need someone to open doors for me. I need someone who helps me guard my doors. Someone who locks them, if need be, who hides the keys and helps me find them in case I need them back. Someone who helps me break them open, splinters in palms and all. I don't need someone who shows me the way. I need someone who will walk down whatever route I choose, whatever path I set my sights on, holding my hand. Someone who weighs in with their experience, but ultimately lets me make the decision. Someone who lets me take the next step alone, if I feel like it. I need someone who allows me to be my own guiding light. Someone who believes in me on days where I don't know who I am anymore. When I look in the mirror and see a stranger staring back at me, I need you to remind me who I am, who I was, once. Without you. Before I knew you. And who I am with you now. Who I can be, even if you leave.

guiding light / n.j.

[alaskaisnothere]

maybe i can't get close, maybe i'm just afraid that people will leave me, like it happened and i just don't get close anymore because it hurt so bad when you left that i can't stand doing it again. maybe i'm just pretending to be close just like I'm pretending to be happy so when you eventually leave it won't hurt so bad. maybe i'm a fucking fraud but no one knows because i don't let anyone in.

[alaskaisnothere]

And you break open your ribcage, for not having enough space, you destroy the columns that you've built, tear the skin, cut the flesh, just to stay a little awake, until

there is nothing left, neither space nor existence.

[alaskaisnothere]

I stopped writing because I thought "who the fuck is reading my words anyway" as if writing to get the poison out isn't enough, as if I'm not enough. And I'll never be, because I'll always have that need to make people feel something. I'll always have that urge to scream my feelings and hear back that they're valid. That I'm valid.

[alaskaisnothere]

and i was wondering why do we all get sad at five pm? what is it about that specific hour that makes us feel so worthless and hopeless? maybe it's because we already had to endure so much during our day and we just can't wait for it be over, or on the other hand we experienced joy like never before and the day is about to be over. maybe it's because we never enjoy being in the middle because we're always straining our eyes trying to see the end.