Wednesday, August 20, 2025

August, 20th, 2023

 At the end of every notebook, I save the last few pages to reflect on the journey through the notebook and a personal check in to sum up how it's been going and feeling. This is that entry, minus the friend diagram that was drawn in the notebook:


This has been quite the adventure of a time where I almost actually feel like an adult of some sort. Whatever that means. Feelings and emotions have become more and more important in certain capacities, such as relationships and being honest about my own needs and wants. I can feel and see my own patterns repeating and there's plenty I don't like about myself. It's a work in progress to learn how to self-love. This year, I started therapy for real. It's still a little uncomfortable for me to say and I can't wait to see you how I can better me and learn/ teach myself to be more understanding and compassionate. 

I want to shout out to my mom and dad for always having my back through the internal turmoil I feel and conceal. It doesn't feel like I have many people I can count on right now, truthfully. Who are my closest friends right now? I have no idea but I can attempt to draw a picture of a pool of people I have some kind of closeness with or something...

… The pool of people is small, and maybe that's okay. I don't need a million people in my corner to fill some weird kind of void of something that I think I'm missing. This year has had pockets of me prioritizing myself yet, still holding myself secondary. Still relearning to not always count on people and just do me. It's time to continue that and not have it be a worry. Go to a bar. Have some kava. Have nothing. Take myself out to lunch. Stop thinking about what could happen if I do this and do that. I hold myself back and know it. Being mentally tired after work is real and bullshit at the same time. What's the secret to getting over that mental fog or making up reasons to not pursue? Myself sucks sometimes. I'm ready for a 180. I've heard a lot of people struggling recently and isn't it time to like, not? I am shipping positivity and reasons to do things without a reason. Thank you, little black book, for bearing sob stories and for space for me to vent and dream. On to the next chapter of fun and adventure. This last year has been very wobbly and trying to steady my feet Again. This dust is settling, I hope. And when more dust stirs, it's okay to feel it, because the holdup is only temporary. This next year, I am shipping happiness, outdoors, self care, alone trips, trips with friends, and biking more. I'm also happy to be getting more and more comfortable showing more skin, literally. That has been something that has helped me back a lot in the past for being shy and not comfortable with showing skin. No more. Time to show it all. Or not.

Sunday, August 17, 2025

Bay Breeze


 

It is moments like now that I am grateful for the breeze
that touched the tip of my nose.
Encouragement to breathe.
Those moments when the Bay view
was blue,
there was city in sight and pristine.
S
moke, smog, plastic bags, blur what I see now.
Prescription is overrated and clouded serene.
It's fun when clouds play hide and seek
with each other and tickled by air pushing them away
as the light captures stills throughout the day
to honor every moment that is important.


~Tina Meeks

Monday, August 4, 2025

Insulin

 

You may seem so woke and righteous to some.
You spritz your pretty little femininity
and conceal what may be a receding... quality.
I'm not one to pick apart someone's
appearance to make myself feel superior, and

poke about someone's shortcomings that affect me, not at all.
I am one to say what's on my mind and
how I feel in an open and honest way.

And first, tell me,
who hurt you?
Because hurt people hurt others and there's a
pain gleaming from you

like a chandelier.
Something to meditate on:
You relish in how you exist, and believe
how wholesome you 
want to feel.
Just don't lie to yourself.
I'm concerned that mask of yours
falls right off your face the millisecond you step
across the threshold of perceived home.


~Tina Meeks