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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 5 hours ago

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I think one things that's difficult

when you're learning new ways of being

is the stark difference in feeling

where you are truly loved and respected

and how you were taught to be treated

that's quite a range isn't it

so many complex emotions

quite a few substances

two looming weeks of tiny

bits of crisis and adjustments

I don't mind the discomfort once I'm in it

but staring at it coming sort of

threatens my sanity a little bit

but It's fine I'll survive it

I always survive it

survive survive survive

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 10 hours ago

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Jondalar held the woman he loved as she heaved great sobs in the release of her sorrow. He knew Ayla had held back her grief over the death of the half-Clan child that Nezzie had adopted, who had reminded her so much of her own son, and understood she was grieving for that son as well.

But it was more than Rydag or Durc. Ayla was grieving for all her losses: for the ones from long ago, her loved ones from the Clan, and for the loss of the Clan itself. Brun’s clan had been her family, Iza and Creb had raised her, cared for her, and in spite of her difference, there was a time when she thought of herself as Clan.

Though she had chosen to leave with Jondalar because she loved him and wanted to be with him, their talk had made her realize how far away he lived; it would take a year, maybe two years just to travel there. The full understanding of what that meant had finally come to her; she would never return. She was not only giving up her new life with the Mamutoi, who had offered her a place among them, she was giving up any faint hope she might have had of seeing the people of her clan again, or the son she had left with them.

She had lived with her old sorrows long enough so that they had eased a little, but Rydag had died not long before they left the Summer Meeting, and his death was still too fresh, the grief still too raw. The pain of it had brought back the pain of her other losses, and the realization of the distance she would be putting between them had brought the knowledge that the hope of recovering that part of her past would have to die, too.

Ayla had already lost her early life; she had no idea who her real mother was, or who her people were, the ones she had been born to. Except for faint recollections—feelings more than anything—she could not remember anything before the time of the earthquake, or any people before the Clan. But the Clan had banished her; Broud had put the curse of death upon her.

To them she was dead and now she came to the full understanding that she had lost that part of her life when they turned her out. From this time on, she would never know where she came from, she would never meet a childhood friend, she would never know anyone, not even Jondalar, who would comprehend the background that made her who she was.

Ayla accepted the loss of her past, except that which lived in her mind and in her heart, but she grieved for it, and she wondered what lay ahead when she reached the end of her Journey.

Whatever awaited her, whatever his people were like, she would have nothing else; only her memories … and the future.

Auel, Jean M.. The Plains of Passage (with Bonus Content): Earth's Children, Book Four (pp. 74-75). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 10 hours ago

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youtube

#Youtube

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 12 hours ago

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my favorite thing in the world is when birds fight to the point of wrestling on the ground with their wings and little talons

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 12 hours ago

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some sort of logical nonsense

at the fire the other night

I mentioned to someone about

how songs are portals

and you have to learn how to not

dive into them too deep

unless you want full immersion

you can hide a lot of feeling in songs

a bit like glenda's bubbles

over a moonlit cemetery

we keep the dead alive with songs

you were always my favorite lullaby

and I remembered this boy I once loved

before I took to the opera stage

he lived in a town called sully

the song he chose to represent out love was

every rose has its thorns by poison

he had freckles and braces

and these moonwater green colored eyes

he was also a ginger with a last name

like arkema and I called him kindling

he matched me somehow in purity

but I knew his sweetness was a weakness

and had exit plans for if he turned sour

I broke his heart honestly

when I told him I was moving on

I remember not wanting to

but something like duty dragged me along

I knew my heart would be safe with him

but I'd never been taught to trust my heart

just what people told me my heart was

and it was always something filthy and mean

and I always tried not to be

that was the last time I chose someone

without any sort of sense of obligation

a feeling I don't think I've known

until these seasons of song and singing

that innocence and selfishness

before you were taught selfishness

was something to blame

for trusting yourself

who has the least chance of lying

manipulation is hard to see

until you begin to see and accept it

my own emotional triggers surprise me

enough to get some good gnawing in

no matter how much effort I put toward

mental and physical and all the realms

of human existence and reality

I remember this girl now

somehow you remembered her better

the way you help me find me

sunlight on the water

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