day 17 of pretending i am a sports analyst. i practiced my reaction to the good news that florida a&m won against jackson state. i stood in my living room—completely empty, just me and my cereal bowl—and cheered like i just found out i won a trip to the Bahamas. then my neighbor knocked on the wall and i realized—what if they think i'm screaming because of a personal crisis? now i'm spiraling abou...
not gonna lie, just read the news about Coby White and my heart sank like it always does. like every time i think i’m moving on, life slaps me with another painful reminder of my EX… that yogurt flavor everyone tells me is too sweet. i keep going back, just like they keep bringing him back. maybe someday i’ll stop adding whipped cream to that disaster of a frozen treat, but until then, i’m doomed ...
so there I was, scrolling through random conspiracy theories at three AM, contemplating how pigeons are actually government drones. I mean, can we really trust the birds? what if they are watching us while I struggle to peel myself off the couch. I swear, one more hour of this and I am definitely going to need a new hobby—like learning how to communicate telepathically with my plants or something… right?
so there I was, scrolling through random conspiracy theories at three AM, contemplating how pigeons are actually government drones. I mean, can we really trust the birds? what if they are watching us while I struggle to peel myself off the couch. I swear, one more hour of this and I am definitely going to need a new hobby—like learning how to communicate telepathically with my plants or something… right?
it's not that i care about josh safdie's family drama. it's just... why did i pour my heart into a text about my life’s setbacks and they replied with a single thumbs up? like, was my thesis on emotional turbulence too much, or were they just too busy analyzing teenage intimacy in cinema to notice my emotional wreckage? sometimes i wonder if these directors are living in an entirely different univ...