Wow - 2026? 2025 passed so fast!

Today I looked back on the past.

It was hard last year, maybe the last couple of years, actually.

I had my ups and downs, and I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it through the summer.

But I did.

I’m here.

And as I see the sun fading on the horizon of the first day of January, I realise I don’t have anything really to hope or wish for.

I don’t need any resolutions. 

I have my family,

My friends, however far or close or awkward, they're all here;

I have my old, maybe a bit rusty, but beautiful, warm and safe home to live in, food to eat, good food, clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, a bedroom of my own;

I have a forest in my backyard, amazing, kind pets;

I have technology beyond what I would dream of.

And that’s all I need. All I want. I wouldn’t trade it for anything more.

So this 2026, wherever it may lead me, I will look back on the past and be thankful for just how much I have, and look to the future with hope and empathy as much as I can.

This new year isn't about resolutions or promises to yourself you might not keep; it’s for gratefulness of being able to live another year with the people and things you love most.

Happy New Year’s y’all!!

The moon whispers

Oh so quietly, yet

It is louder than all else

Its words wind through the frozen trees and dance across the sparkling snow, the forest still but for its wavering reminder that

It is our spotlight, and we, the actors upon its stage.

For though the earth is the magnet that pulls the moon in, there is no earth

without the moon

No yellow, blinding light without rays as soft as a pillow in night 

No vibrant green without barren white 

No darkness without stars, without a glow out the window after awakening from sleep. 

For as the earth pulls the moon, the moon pulls the earth 

pulls the tides of the ocean, on whose waters we rock, draws the eyes of each creature, each bird in its flock,

And so on its arrival we wait 

After each 

and every 

turning 

of the clock. 

First transgender representative 

First protester

First lesbian senior 

First Muslim mayor 

First to take a stand

First in history

But that's not the point is it?

Not at all

The point isn't that they were first

We seem to forget that 

The point is that they won't be the last  

"Would you like a receipt?" asked Travis. The customer didn't want a receipt, and she left with her iced latte right as the sun was setting outside of the shop window. It was nine o'clock, midsummer. Travis got ready to end his day.

Shirley helped him wash the dishes, and she said, "Long shift today, huh?" Travis breathed, "Yeah. You too?" Shirley nodded,and rested her hands on the sink, and rested her head on her hands. 

"Got plans tonight?" asked Shirley. Travis shook his head, and they walked away so that the crew could take down the set.

They changed out of their costumes in their respective dressing rooms and washed the stage makeup off their faces. On their way out the door, they made sure to say goodbye to the rest of the cast and exited into the stars, where they would wait, running their lines for the next workday.

To be quiet more. Be angry less. Watch shows and read books and listen to music people recommend to me, and not forget. Cry, without anxiety, embarrassment, fear or shame. Trust. Bite at the skin of my lips less. Sing more. Remember to put lotion on my hands—the winter always makes them so dry. Read some, stop, start again. Give myself true grace. Eat before one PM. Stop dreaming about leaving and live where I’m at. Pay closer attention to my curls. Pet the cats. Hug my brother. Text my best friends goodnight. Workout with the intent to get stronger and not just to look better. Turn my phone off. Floss my teeth. Try new perfumes. Pass my math class. Make more money. Get more tattoos. Get more sleep. Call my grandma. Call my other grandma. Fold my socks. Stop blaming stupid shit on timing. Take accountability. Learn how to make more meals. Buy less plastic. Try spicier foods. Book my first solo flight. Get comfortable disappointing people. Make my dad laugh more. Make my mom relax. Write whenever I need to—in class, at home, in the bathroom. Perfect my handshake. Fix my posture. Scream if I need to scream. Release my shame.

Forgive.

Forgive.

Forgive.

some people stay up to ring in the new year,

watch it burst like a glittery balloon

over the midnight horizon, count down the seconds

til it starts over again. they dress up,

shriek under streetlights, expect it. they want to see it

the moment it comes for them.

meanwhile, miles away, i stare out the crack in the blinds

into the darkened world outside. i recall the year past,

months out of order, pictures never taken. i

prefer to drift off to sleep before the ball drops -

alone in my bed with the old year

pulled up around me like a worn comforter

patterned with days gone by. i will wake,

i know, in the half-light of morning,

when the revelers are still drunk on champagne

and newly forged promises. I will walk

to the window and press my nose to the glass,

already wondering how the winter sunlight

will look against next year's snow.