#earthly signs moscow diaries

[soracities]

To love — is to see a person as God intended him and his parents failed to make him.

Marina Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922 (trans. Jamey Gambrell)

[faerie-aurora]

"I'll cry about this earth in heaven too."

-Maria Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; A Hero of Labor

[asoftepiloguemylove]

"I'll cry about this earth in heaven too."

Marina Tsvetaeva, A Hero of Labor, "Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922"

[shisasan]

Human beings can’t be all sacrifice, you have to do something for yourself too…

Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922

[metamorphesque]

One should write only those books from whose absence one suffers. In short: the ones you want on your own desk.

Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917–1922

[vampuppyy]

- metamorphosis of self // phosphophyllite

1. the hour of the star, clarice lispector / 2. trista mateer / 3. unknown artist; earthly signs: moscow diaries, marina tsvetaeva; meadowlands, louise glück / 4. tumblr post by achlles / 5. unknown artist, unknown source / 6. tumblr post by berecovered / 7. the numbers game, emily berry / 8. too much love, katja kemnitz; i feel like i am asleep, michelle k / 9. houseki no kuni chapter 107, haruko ichikawa / 10. sunstone, octavio paz

[derangedrhythms]

The desire to go deep: to the depths of the night, the depths of love.

Marina Tsvetaeva, ⁠Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; from 'On Love', tr. Jamey Gambrell

[cowgurrrl]

This Time Around

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: I wasn’t gonna write anything for Joel’s birthday and then I took a shower and got all writery about it

Summary: “I’ll cry about this earth in heaven too.” — Marina Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; “A Hero of Labor” aka a different September 26th [1.2k]

Warnings: grief (what’s new), talks of Outbreak Day, June being way too deep for tumblr dot gov

When your brain is done wading through the skeletons and sparks of rage from your past, Joel's breathing is the first thing you hear. You can tell he's awake. His breaths are just a little too close together for it to result from his circadian rhythm. You stretch to bring real feeling back into your body, replacing the weight of a gun in your hands with Joel's soft skin. When you blink your eyes open, the sun is barely peeking in through the curtains and reflecting off his graying strands. He looks beautiful. You smile and kiss his jaw, your hand resting on his cheek to keep him from scrambling away.

"Hi." He says, his voice fatigued, and rests a hand on your thigh.

"Hey," you say. "D'you get any sleep?"

"No." He swallows thickly, and you nod. He dreads his birthday every year. Seeing the date on the calendar makes him relive his final day with Sarah. He turns the events over and over again in his head like he's looking for an alternate outcome where he, Sarah, and Tommy make it out safely and together. Like if he stares at the anniversary hard enough, he can will it to change. In the few years since you've come to Jackson, he's been open to doing some things to celebrate his birthday, mostly to appease Ellie, but he always picks up a shift to keep his mind off it. However, Ed took over his patrol shift this year without asking him. When Joel interrogated him about it, he said, "Ain't no sense in leavin' your family if you don't have to."

Ed doesn't know the exact details of what you and Joel endured that night, but he can guess. It's probably similar to what he went through with his wife before she died. The rumor is that he was at work, and she was already gone by the time he made it home. Infected broke in the house, and there was nothing she could do to protect herself. It's why he's always taking shifts so others can go be with their families or friends. It's a thoughtful gesture, but the suddenly empty day made Joel anxious and quiet, something Charlie immediately noticed. You told her Daddy's birthday makes him sad sometimes, but can't find the words to explain what happened that night. Twenty years later and there's still no coherent way to talk about everything you lost in the blink of an eye.

It's still early. Charlie is still asleep. Ellie's offer to take care of her for the day still stands. You don't bombard him with questions about what he wants to do or what you should do today. There's no right way to mourn the way of life the world collectively lost and celebrate your husband simultaneously. You play with the messy curls at the nape of his neck and take a deep breath.

"We don't have to do anything. We can just… lay here. Pretend the world's not there. Whatever you want," you mumble. "I just want you to know I'm really happy you were born today." He doesn't say anything, but his jaw flexes, and you catch the tears sparkling in his eyes.

When Charlie wakes up, he puts on a brave face and offers to make her pancakes, pretending like today is just another day. Ellie, Dina, and JJ come over around lunchtime, and Ellie hides the tiny framed picture she drew of Joel holding JJ, yellow sunbeams lighting their faces like cherubs. It's rare that she uses color in her drawings. Then again, it's rare that Joel lets anyone acknowledge his birthday. It's special.

Tommy, Maria, and Camille come over, too, and the kids play in the backyard while the adults sit on the back porch with lemonade and a little bit of celebratory whiskey Tommy brought. You listen to the brothers exchange stories about growing up in Texas and their parents, something they never talk about, and laugh a little too hard at a story of a seventeen-year-old Joel getting caught climbing out of some cheerleader's window by her dad. At one point, Camille and Charlie climb the porch with a toddling JJ not far behind and a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in each tiny fist. Joel takes a shaky breath as he accepts the little beautiful things from the beautiful little girls. You can almost hear his thoughts running wild with accusations of not deserving the flowers, the girls, his family, and his life, and you put a hand on his arm to silence them.

"Thank you, honey." He manages to get out before pressing a kiss to each of their heads. Just like that, the kids are off again to run around and play silly made-up games together. There's a heavy moment of silence on the porch where no one knows exactly what to say. You raise your eyebrows at Joel, wordlessly offering him an out, and he shakes his head.

"Joel?" Dina finally speaks up, and he turns to look at her. "What was it like? Y'know… before?" She asks. Ellie turns her head to mumble something dismissive, but Joel stops her. To pretend like today isn't full of sadness and anger and regret is to strip it of its full meaning. Joel takes a breath as you squeeze his arm. The kids are giggling together in the grass, and the air is cool. You can smell the earth and the last batch of wildflowers pushing through the soil before it gets cold. There's not a cloud in the sky, the endless blue stretching out over the mountains and hills of Jackson. He smiles as the kids fall down after playing an aggressively fast game of Ring Around the Posie and finally looks back at Dina.

"Was a lot like this," he says. "Scary and dangerous and sad but… happy," you smile as he nods like he's just realizing this himself. "Even with all the shit, we were so goddamn happy."

"Sounds nice," Dina says.

"It was," he turns to look at you. "It is."

That night, after everyone has gone home or fallen asleep on your couch (Ellie and Charlie), Joel walks outside and stands under the stars. You don't follow him, but you watch him through the kitchen window. His head is tipped back, and he's searching the night sky for something. You remember looking up at the same sky twenty years ago with blood pouring out of your arm and Jane sleeping on your chest and wondering if life would ever be okay again. You didn't know your future husband was hundreds of miles away, wondering the same thing. You didn't know your second daughter would lose her mother under the same night sky six short years later. You'll never know how the earth keeps spinning despite the grief weighing it down or how the night sky looks the same no matter who was killed or born under it.

What you do know is that when Joel comes in with cold hands and tear-stained cheeks, you'll be there to hold him. You'll cry and grieve together in the kitchen you rebuilt for your family. You'll hold his hand the whole way up the stairs, tell him you love him, and fall asleep once his breathing evens out. You know you'll dance this dance and sing this song for as long as it takes for September 26th to feel a little bit less painful. It may take the rest of your life to achieve, but there are far worse things to fall victim to.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[crimsonicarus]

Ben Platt, Grow as we go - Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries - Maya Angelou, I know why the caged bird sings

Here we celebrate "The day of love and frienship" the third saturday of september, our own little version of Saint valentin but not only for lovers, but also for family and friends and any person you hold dear in your heart but cannot find an excuse to gift something on february, so this little something is for @hrhgeorgerussell

First georgierre web weaving on this blog for the first person to gave me the brain worms for these 2 lmao, love youuuu

[weakformemo]

Marina Tsvetaeva. ⁠Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries.

[soracities]

Marina Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922 (trans. Jamey Gambrell)

[internationalemeteorologie]

"Previously, everything that I loved was called — I, now it's — You. But it's the same thing."

― Marina Tsvetaeva. Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, !917-22

[oldwinesoul]

I'll cry about this earth in heaven too.

—Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; "A Hero of Labor"

[xuxanov]

Uçmaqda da (Cənnət) bu yer için ağlayacağam.

-Marina Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; “A Hero of Labor”

—

[cere-mon-ials]

Tag nine people you want to know better!

Thank you @didim-dol for tagging me! Love seeing you on the dash <3

Favorite color: Green

Currently reading: Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries 1917 - 1922 by Marina Tsvetaeva

Last song: Two by GOT7

Last series: Extraordinary Attorney Woo

Last movie: Decision to Leave

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet

Currently working on: Just my day job for now. I have been thinking of revisiting an outline for a Stranger fic but I don't have the energy to commit to researching Korea's prosecution system at present. So perhaps this is for 2023!

Tagging @world-smitten @sunsoothed @pi-ying-xi @eternalfiremoth @rosyfingered-moon @risplendere @drivingsideways @sadviper @roohdar for the meme.

[metamorphesque]

― Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917–1922

[text ID: What am I here for? To listen to my soul.]