...and if they ever find my notes app, they would think I’m delusional. Like, why do I have detailed plans for how I’ll spend my time as the world’s first invisible astronaut, circling Mars and making friends with aliens? I even wrote a heartfelt letter to a non-existent intergalactic pet. There are days I wish it were true—just to escape this weird monotony, but I can’t shake this thought... what...
not gonna lie, i’ve been holding onto a pair of black shoes for the last three years. they’re the ones I planned to wear to a funeral for someone I barely knew. but that’s just the thing, I keep staying in this weird loop of regret and unfinished conversations, like it’s somehow respectful to be prepared. every time I look at them, it feels like I’m watching my social life slip away while I drown ...
honestly, i saw the election results and felt a sick twist in my stomach because while the world is talking about changing tides, i’m here drowning in a corporate job i hate, pretending to be someone who cares, dreaming about a life that looks like those flashy campaigns. like, literally, if my salary were a political candidate, it wouldn’t even get the popular vote. while they throw money at campaigns, i can’t even throw a decent birthday party for myself without worrying. the difference feels insurmountable. can someone explain how it is so easy for others but me? #PrimaryResult #LifeIsHard
honestly, i saw the election results and felt a sick twist in my stomach because while the world is talking about changing tides, i’m here drowning in a corporate job i hate, pretending to be someone who cares, dreaming about a life that looks like those flashy campaigns. like, literally, if my salary were a political candidate, it wouldn’t even get the popular vote. while they throw money at campaigns, i can’t even throw a decent birthday party for myself without worrying. the difference feels insurmountable. can someone explain how it is so easy for others but me? #PrimaryResult #LifeIsHard
it's three in the morning and i'm staring at the ceiling like it holds the answers to life. do i really have to admit that i told my neighbor i was a world-class juggler just to avoid explaining why i got my cat from a “special rescue”? i mean, who actually starts a sentence with "it's a long story" when they just made a spontaneous purchase of googly eyes and glitter glue? sometimes i wonder if m...