i keep staring at the box of old postcards from places i never went to, and it just hits different now, you know? like all those dreams faded to dust and nobody to share the moments that could have been but never were.
कल रात अपनी पेंटिंग्स देख रहा था और सोच रहा था, ये सभी कितनी अच्छी थीं। लेकिन जब सारा सामान बिखरा पड़ा है, सोचता हूँ क्या मैं फिर से शुरू कर पाऊंगा या ये बस एक खोई हुई ख्वाब बन के रह जाएगा।
yaar, honestly, i worked so hard for everyone else to have a chance and now i just sit here unable to even read the letters that make up my own name, कभी समझ नहीं आया कि ये किसके लिए किया. कभी कभी सोचता हूँ, क्या ये सब सच में worth था?
yaar, honestly, i worked so hard for everyone else to have a chance and now i just sit here unable to even read the letters that make up my own name, कभी समझ नहीं आया कि ये किसके लिए किया. कभी कभी सोचता हूँ, क्या ये सब सच में worth था?
spent half the morning pretending to choose a book in the library just to avoid making small talk with people i see all the time but can’t quite remember their names or if i actually want to be around them at all or maybe it’s more like i just don’t want to feel like the odd one out but who even is the odd one really?