Well yes... I made it to the other side of May.
Sitting here, meditating.
Scrolling through my photos, trying to find where I was in 2024, on a birthday.
No photos. No trace of that day.
My phone holds no memory... yet I'm sure they exist, on a phone far away from me
Out of my reach.

But with tired, heavy eyes, I pause and travel inward, into my memories.
An archived event in my mind.
The truth is, I don’t really know what I did on May 13th, 2024.

I must make a decision, sitting here in my living room,
a candle burning to my left, background music, something Stacks
And my lips were slightly pursed, trying to shape the next word.
Squeezing emotions into words... a quiet release.

My birthday is tomorrow.
I just asked my mom what time I was born.
You know, she always loves to revisit that story:
— "You were big, chubby, and so beautiful... it was so hard for you to get yourself out!"
One of those stories moms repeat, and we say:
— "Here she goes again, I know it already, Mom."

But yes... that's life.
A 2024 full of life — and farewells.
Maybe that's how it is: they said goodbye to me.
Raw and almost poetic, what I went through in every fiber of my being.

The only way I can put it into human words is this:
All I wanted, with every part of my soul, was to go back to my mother’s womb.
And I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to come out again.
I didn’t even think about it.

One year ago, I sat so close to my mom, I dreamed I’d wake up there, safe and pain-free.
Her warm hand would simply say:
— “I love you, my love. I’m here.”
And she really was.

One year later, sitting here thinking of her, I just want to say:
Thank you, Mom. I love you.

Now a song named -Maca- plays, and my head starts to sway,
with more rhythm, more longing.
More desire to radiate from the center of my own light.
And I wonder: where is that?

Well, I can tell you—I don’t care.
I just know it exists.
I’ve built it.

Fire that burns me.
Fire, I keep alive.
Not everything needs to make sense.
Not everything needs to be perfect.
Love. Peace. A clean conscience.

Tomorrow is my birthday.
Thinking of it, sitting on this beige, not red carpet.
My eyes want to cry.
I pause my writing because I don’t know what else to say.

My art wraps me like a warm blanket,
full of emotions and words that maybe no one will ever read.

But they’re being written by the 2024 warrior.
The one who rose after being hurt.

They call her a bully now.
I call her a warrior.

I see her as beautiful and strong.
I feel unstoppable and wild-hearted.
I am free.

Another year begins, and I’ll live it in freedom.
And this year, I will never wait again.

I will simply be.
Exist.
Feel.
See.
Taste.

I hold my hands under my gaze... and I see myself.
I see myself through my honest eyes.
The wind feels clear.
The music is soft.
Hazy horizon.

My favorite word in English:
Horizon.

With love, Ka.

Karla writes.