june & the gallery of trying

this is all it is

I could wake on the first calendar day of June, after having slept through months of life, and I would know what time of year it was only by listening. I was born in June, and I’ve died in June, and it is when the water has settled with such a stillness that I can see clearly all that I am— where I have been for the year.

Many times in my life, I have, by definition, failed. Not entirely, and not totally, but by someone’s standards, I have not pulled it off. And I don’t think about someone very often, or pay much mind to what any someone could think of me, but if ever I do, I am brought back to the time I was in New York, in the active disintegration of my own life. There was nothing I knew, and hardly anything I recognized, but nothing was missing.

I have been asking the people I love to define success for me, and I've enjoyed hearing the differences in their responses. They are all woven in a way, you can see the thing they mean most just by watching how they live. After sitting with them in their definitions, imagining their someday, I have come to the decision that, to me, success is operative harmony. It is balance—knowing that nothing is missing. That the days keep going on, and everything I love is loved in its own regard, and the work is done for all of it. There will be another difficult thing to live through, another thing to drink to, I will build something I believe in, I will say the wrong thing, and nothing is missing.

And so, yes, my life has changed in ways I could not have made up, but I have not known hollowness, not since New York.

Not one event made me feel this way; it was the collective. The life I lived before. The days strung out alone, walking a Brooklyn block, where I knew that there was a synchronicity between others filling their time with people who belonged to them, and my attempts at keeping from thinking about the two happening at once. So I floated around strangers, and made something of the weeks I had.

Everything, to me, started to gleam this kinetic quality. Or really, it always did. It's hard for me to distinguish between when I first started noticing this and when I began to believe it. Whenever it was, the potential of my life became so enormous that there were nights I couldn’t sleep, and I watched the orange glow split my room down the middle. The present felt never-ending, until its endlessness faded into the next thing. I was as real a person as I ever was.

Is this all it is? Is this how it goes?

The rejection letters, and bumping teeth when you kiss, and drawing out a diagram explaining the connection of all of your friends to all of their lovers. Your temporary solitudes and trusting yourself there within them. Giving up and giving in. Your worst, and your best, and the time you aren’t even thinking of now, because it is so insignificant when held up to the light. Still, it counts. Still, it’s part of it. Still, you tried.

Yes, yes— this is all it is.

A few rapid-fire recs:

The Four Seasons (2025)

I watched The Four Seasons, the 1981 film adaptation by Alan Alda, starring my big three: Tina Fey, Steve Carell, and Will Forte, on Netflix. I was searching for a distraction and was able to split the eight episodes between two days.

My qualm is largely that this made marriage and getting older seem like a specific kind of misery that was almost unbearable for me to watch. But I do adore Tina Fey, and I enjoyed the writing and the pacing of the season. I enjoyed the series overall, and I've heard it’s been approved for another season. Good, after that ending.

Paradise (2025)

I flew through this show and completely forgot about it until I began writing this portion of the newsletter. I don’t watch many thriller TV shows, I am busy rewatching a rotating five sitcoms. However, Paradise was gripping and incredibly well done. Sterling K Brown is beloved. I grew attached to him as Randal in This Is Us, and I so enjoyed watching his performance as Clifford in American Fiction. Here, he was the perfect person to play Xavier.

James Marsden, I love you, and your role as Cal. I am so sorry that to me you are Tom Wachowski from Sonic the Hedgehog (1, 2, &3) and also James Marsden as James Marsden (of Sonic The Hedgehog) on Jury Duty.

Movies I want to see this month:

Friendship (2024)

(A man tries to befriend his charismatic new neighbour, but it soon threatens to ruin both of their lives. Starring Paul Rudd & Tim Robinson. Directed by Andrew DeYoung.)

Sinners (2025)

(Trying to leave their troubled lives behind, twin brothers return to their Mississippi hometown to start again, only to discover that an even greater evil is waiting to welcome them back. Starring Michael B Jordan and Hailee Steinfeld. Directed by Ryan Coogler.)

The Phoenician Scheme (2025)

(Wealthy businessman, Zsa-zsa Korda appoints his only daughter, a nun, as sole heir to his estate. As Korda embarks on a new enterprise, they soon become the target of scheming tycoons, foreign terrorists, and determined assassins. Starring Michael Cera, Mia Threapelton, and Benicio del Toro. Directed by Wes Anderson.)

And always one more time. That is all it takes— this is all it is.

If you’re itching to read some proper poetry this month, my paid newsletter will arrive in two weeks. If you aren’t looking to read some proper poetry this month, that’s okay too. You might accidentally run into some over on my Instagram, @sky.daye where I share, connect, and create.

Thanks for reading with me. If something here spoke to you, you can write it down, or stitch it on a sweater, or screenshot it, share it, and tag @sky.daye

Warmly,

Sky