literally thought i was making connections when i sat next to a stranger at the coffee shop, sharing dreams over lattes. now i scroll through their feed, seeing them pose with a celebrity like كيم كارداشيان while my phone stays silent. turns out, adult life is just filling your life with faces that don't know your name, drowning in a sea of 'likes' but feeling like nobody gives a damn. i get attac...
it’s 2am and i’m scrolling through old celebrity boxing matches, thinking “what if i trained like ahmed alawadi?” convinced i need a dramatic life shift, i order the most ridiculous amount of gym gear online. i picture myself as a fierce fighter until the credit card bill hits. instead of punching my way to glory, i’m sitting in my living room, drowning in neon leggings and a foam roller i can’t f...
no, because the way that my laundry pile is literally plotting a coup while I pretend it’s just a decorative mountain. I’m pretending the tiny ramen packet counts as fine dining. I checked my bank account while thinking I might start a podcast about the fine art of saying "I’m fine" when my closet's as empty as my wallet. oh, and my couch now has more credit card offers than cushions.
no, because the way that my laundry pile is literally plotting a coup while I pretend it’s just a decorative mountain. I’m pretending the tiny ramen packet counts as fine dining. I checked my bank account while thinking I might start a podcast about the fine art of saying "I’m fine" when my closet's as empty as my wallet. oh, and my couch now has more credit card offers than cushions.
not gonna lie, seeing all this news about Savannah Guthrie and her missing mom made me think about how many people I used to call “friend” but can barely text back now. I used to have late-night convos that bled into dawn—where did those days go? now it feels like my contact list is a graveyard of half-formed connections, and when I get low, I scroll through it, half-expecting someone to save me f...