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Orion and I share a bond unlike any other constellation—a quiet understanding woven through the years, a celestial companion who has watched me grow
I first met Orion at summer camp, lying on a hammock beneath the starry sky. I didn’t know its name then, I was only stargazing, thinking about the vastness of the cosmos. but something about those three stars, perfectly aligned, lingered in my mind
then it followed me home. night after night, I found it outside my bedroom window, hovering above my bed, where I laid my head to rest. it became part of my ritual—before sleep, I’d wave to Orion like an old friend, and then we kissed each other goodnight. even when the it was cloudy, I still searched for it, hoping for a flicker of Betelgeuse to break through the darkness
I even got it tattooed on me. now etched into me like a compass pointing to my past. it’s a reminder of where I’ve been, of late-night whispers to the sky, of restless dreams and youthful longing. a constellation turned talisman, marking the distance I have traveled
maybe one day, in a place far from home, another constellation will find me. perphaps I will create a new bond, and it will guide me in ways Orion once did
for now I’m still here, patiently waiting for senior year to end and waiting for a new chapter of my life to begin, and most likely there will be a new constellation to guide me throughout my journey…
Feb 27, 2025
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omg Orion is also my favorite constellation! my eyes always seek it out. something so comforting about those three little stars and then the layout around them. it was one of the first constellations I ever learned how to spot
this is so beautiful. i also bonded with the stars when i was tiny. they've always been there for me, and i like to think of every single person who has bonded with them. how we're all connected in a way creating something loving out of the sky.
extendedplay the sky is truly our connector, engulfing every single human, alive or decease. i love that the stars connects us, makes us a big constellation named humanity❤️
being human is so silly, i love that i created a bond with some stars in the sky. i gave them meaning in a meaningless world, so i guess thats what makes me human
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When I was little and we would drive back from a religious event for a god I didn't believe in, the car tense in ways that you only understand if you know too much about your parents and they know nothing about each other or you, my little sister asleep in the back next to me, I'd watch the moon. It was comforting finding her shining up there. So far away from my small life, so cold, so bright.
And then when I was a bit older, fully embroiled in my Percy Jackson obsession, I'd picture Artemis up there as the moon, bounding along by, always watching over me. I'd think of Thalia and the other Huntresses and pledge to myself never to sacrifice myself for a man after seeing what they could do to the women I knew. I'd walk home from swim practice or be back in my parents car, talking to Artemis in my head, not believing she was actually there, but needing someone who was listening.
In college, going home late from a friend's apartment, or just a late evening in the lab, I'd walk with one earbud in pepper spray in hand, alert. But I'd always pause to look at the moon, feeling grateful, protected against all reason in the moonlight. My constantly changing consistent friend.
And now I don't see her as much, rarely outside at night undistracted. I pause every time I do though. A silent reminder of how small I really am in the face of everything. Not alarming but soothing somehow. I'm doing my best, I don't have to be perfect. She will always be there to watch me go on.
Feb 16, 2025
hey hey!!!!!! i’m so glad youre here! i went on another run tonight. let me tell you about it. my knee hurts, i tweaked it last night, but i started nice and steady. i like to run at night, often late, so a 1 am run is not out of the ordinary for me.
i usually take a road by my house that leads out of town until the streetlights stop. if it’s not yet sunset, i’ll go another mile or so along the road before turning back at nightfall. on my lucky days, the sky paints itself rosy, and wisps of clouds turn alight with oranges and reds. that, juxtaposed against the brightest blue imaginable makes for a pretty picture to distract myself from whatever pain boils in whatever part of my body. i have endometriosis, so oftentimes when i work out, i’ll cramp in ways that would humble a god.
so i enjoy watching the sun tuck itself into the ground. my favorite part is undoubtedly the brilliant magenta color that only comes if the clouds are at just the right elevation. after the sun drops to wherever it’s needed next, and the rest of the sky’s blues deepen, ultimately saturating the ochre hues right along the horizon, i turn around. show’s over, i gotta get home.
but, when i’m out past 11, and the sky is clear, the farthest point is where i stop and turn my head to the heavens.
i’m lucky to live on the edge of a national park and in close proximity to total darkness. the stars here are fantastic. many nights, i’ll wander a little off the road and lay down to stargaze. the faint outline of the milky way, precious cosmic glitter; i’ve loved all of it since i was little.
anyway, tonight, i got out to where the street lamps ended, but something stopped me. i took off my headphones and just stood there, listening. i gazed up, stunned by the beauty of the stars. after more than a few minutes spent in awe, i saw something small trot across the road behind me. its tail was unmistakable. a fox, silent as night, the first one i had seen since i was a child. it sailed through the trees by the road, pausing every so often to smell around or investigate a patch of ground. it’s always shocking to me, how quiet it gets out there. even the wind, that slices right through my two jackets, makes no noise. unmistakably eery, probably sacred, and known only to me. i am so incredibly fortunate. it’s the kind of thing you find when you disregard everyone entirely; having an idea, and executing it, no thought to if it’s fucking insane or not.
i continued back along the lit road, taking a detour on a dark offshoot to elongate my run. the stars shone there too, but near the end of the street the shadows configured too darkly, the trees lining the sidewalk felt as if they were entombing rather than accompanying me. so, i called my brother and breathlessly caught up with him, as i turned around once more to make my way home. and i saw a shooting star!
so there. fox and shooting star. because i was a pussy and didn’t press my luck during one of my (admittedly questionable) daily habits. i love them! i’m going to keep them in my brain like a keychain. a fox and a shooting star jingling next to my house key. isn’t that lovely.
Oct 27, 2024
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there's no standard treatment for a broken heart. i sigh quietly to myself, thinking i’ll actually find an answer on how to heal a broken heart on google
it all began five years ago, when i finally started spending time with him—the boy who seemed to shine a little brighter than the rest. he was the kindest, the prettiest, the one who made my heart feel lighter just by existing. and he wanted to be my friend. how could i not fall?
kept the friendship up for a couple of years and my crush for him grew even stronger. sometimes he would come up in my dreams and then i would try to summon fate itself—manifesting, wishing, aching for him to love me back. because, as every girl knows, there is always a phase where we believe the universe listens. and so, i rinsed and repeated, hoping one day, he would look at me the way I looked at him
when we messaged or meet up, he felt like my twin flame. a connection so deep, so natural, that i convinced myself he must feel it too. he understood me, and i understood him
but i never felt that he liked me as much as i liked him.
and then, it ended—not with a dramatic farewell, not with a grand confession, but with silence. I ruined it in my own quiet way: fading out, withdrawing, blocking him, letting the messages go unanswered. I stopped reaching out, and so did he. it was as if we had been a story left unfinished, pages ripped from the book before the final chapter could be written
it has been four months since we last spoke. and now, he has a girlfriend. may I add—throughout our years of friendship, he never had one. situationships, yes, but never something real. yet, here she is. not me.
the day I found out, it struck me in a way I hadn’t expected. I had let him slip from my thoughts, let weeks pass without missing him—until I saw what I had once longed for, in the hands of someone else. I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto the dream until it shattered before me.
now, my mind drifts to what could have been. I picture myself in her place, feel the ghost of a life that was never mine. would he have loved me, if I had held on? if I had tried? was I ever good enough for him? wasn’t I pretty enough for him…? why… her… not… me…?
time is meant to heal. i know this. but this wound runs deep. losing someone you once felt connected to in the deepest corners of your soul is a quiet kind of grief, the kind that doesn’t announce itself loudly but lingers in the spaces between thoughts. my heart feels heavy, my soul even heavier
but today, i miss him more than usually. i’ve fallen to deep, so now every time i think of him, i will miss him deeply.
Feb 28, 2025
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Feb 25, 2025
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is indifference the trend now? it seems like the moment someone shows genuine interest in something, they’re met with the same dismissal as a child asking one too many questions—I'll explain later. but later never comes
yesterday in literature class, something clicked. I finally grasped the scientific reasoning behind a certain work, and it fueled me, inspired me to discuss interpretations with my peers. but when I spoke up, I was met with silence—a subtle, unspoken cue to keep my thoughts to myself
in that moment, I felt embarrassed, even stupid, for wanting to dig deeper. but later, I realized they might have just wanted some peace after a long lesson. maybe it wasn’t about me at all…
however, this wasn’t an isolated moment. time and time again, when I try to have meaningful conversations about things I truly care about, the response is often the same: why are you even thinking about this? why does it matter?
somehow, not caring has become the golden standard. indifference is effortless, and effort is something to be mocked. it’s "cool" to disengage, to float through school without interest, to never give things a second thought. and those who do care? they’re met with resistance, as if their curiosity itself is an inconvenience
the whole chill guy persona and the propaganda of nonchalance do more harm than we realise. we glorify the effortlessly cool, detached observer—the person who never tries too hard, never gets too invested, never asks too many questions. passion is seen as cringe, enthusiasm as uncool, and intellectual curiosity as trying too hard. and yet, it’s exactly this mindset that holds us back
when we stop seeking, we stop growing. when we refuse to ask questions, we accept what we’re given without ever challenging it. nonchalance might feel safe—it protects us from judgment, from looking foolish, from admitting we care—but it also makes us stagnant. it robs us of the thrill of discovery, the depth of connection, the joy of truly understanding something
so maybe it’s time to let go of the chill guy persona and the nonchalant act. it’s time to embrace caring—deeply, unapologetically, wholeheartedly. because the world doesn’t move forward on indifference. it moves forward on those who dare to be curious and whimsy…
Feb 26, 2025
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live passionately!!!!
use exclamation marks!!!
live a little and feel even more!!!!!
Feb 24, 2025