یار، بات یہ ہے کہ میرے کمرے کی چھت میں ایک چھوٹا سا سوراخ ہے اور جب بارش ہوتی ہے تو پانی ٹپکتا ہے، کوئی سمجھتا نہیں کہ ٹھیک کرنے کے لئے میرے پاس پیسے نہیں ہیں، بس بس چھت سے پانی گرتا رہتا ہے، ایسا ہی ہے۔
sitting in my tiny apartment filled with cardboard boxes still waiting to be unpacked, while my neighbors throw parties and laugh loud — sometimes i hear them making plans to travel and i'm just stuck here with my old books, trying to remember how to feel happy again. the only thing i know how to do now is watch people through my window and wonder when it will feel less heavy, you know?
been scrolling through my contacts for like an hour now and honestly, i am just staring at names that feel like ghosts, just wishing i could text someone but everybody feels too far away and all these thoughts of what i should have said just loop in my head like a broken record, and i feel so literally isolated in a room full of people.
been scrolling through my contacts for like an hour now and honestly, i am just staring at names that feel like ghosts, just wishing i could text someone but everybody feels too far away and all these thoughts of what i should have said just loop in my head like a broken record, and i feel so literally isolated in a room full of people.
i keep finding these random old receipts in my bag and it makes me wonder how many of these were for stuff i bought while trying to fill this weird void in my life that nothing ever fills anyway, and now i am just left with clutter and memories that make no sense.