so here i am, scrolling through my library of digital art references, pretending my bank account isn't about to send me a "we need to talk" text. meanwhile, my coworker, fresh out of art school—great portfolio and even better trust fund—just got handed the big bucks, and i'm over here using 90 percent of my sketchpad to doodle sad cartoons about my bills. it’s a wild world when you train someone w...
not gonna lie, i just spent my last ten dollars on a special edition anime figure because, apparently, emotional support is now shaped like a cute little character—meanwhile, my bank account is living its best ghosting life. people think i’m rolling in it because i wear cute outfits, but they don't know i only shop clearance sales. i’m out here doing mental gymnastics just to justify my choices li...
not gonna lie, I literally just sent a text to my therapist talking about how I feel like a walking disaster. And now I am waiting for their reply, like, should I offer them a drink? Do they need a break from this chaotic energy? Honestly, why did I think sharing my last five meltdowns would be helpful? Who needs a plot twist when my life is literally a rom-com gone wrong? #Oops #TherapyConfessions
not gonna lie, I literally just sent a text to my therapist talking about how I feel like a walking disaster. And now I am waiting for their reply, like, should I offer them a drink? Do they need a break from this chaotic energy? Honestly, why did I think sharing my last five meltdowns would be helpful? Who needs a plot twist when my life is literally a rom-com gone wrong? #Oops #TherapyConfessions
how is it that some people go from selling fruits to being a bowling sensation, while i’m here, stuck under a mountain of student debt and pressure to find a husband i don’t want? watching friends buy houses feels like an episode of reality tv that just won’t end, and i can’t help but think, where did i go wrong? there’s this part of me that just wants to celebrate haider ali’s success, but honest...