wait, how did i become the person who spends fifteen minutes picking the perfect vegetable for their avocado toast when i used to judge people for calling avocados “nature's butter”? am i actually going to write a poem about their ripeness later? is my whole personality just evolving around brunch ingredients now? at what point does my life become a gourmet episode of my kitchen is the ceiling? #b...
last night, i saw a news clip of messi talking about owning a team, and suddenly thought, why cant i own my life? stared in the mirror, saw my parents' expressions on my face like i was living in their sitcom. life hits differently when you're both the main character and the background actors. im planning an escape from this script while trying to decide if it's too late to start my own reality sh...
Story Name: "My MIL’s Scheme to Steal My Husband Unravels a Family Secret" Part 4 of 5 I can't move. My breath hitches. Evelyn’s lips curl into that sickly sweet smile. The kind that always makes me feel like I’m being suffocated in sugar. Jake leans back, laughter illuminating his face, but I can’t bear to see the sparkle in his eyes as he lowers his voice to her. I feel my fists balling up at my sides. “Jake?” I whisper, but it comes out as a strained gasp. He doesn’t hear me. Evelyn glances up, that predatory glint in her eyes locking onto me. “Oh, dear! Gwendolyn! You finally made it!” She beckons me over, her voice dripping with feigned warmth. I want to scream, to pull Jake away, but my feet betray me. “Glad you could join us,” she croons, patting the empty chair beside Jake....
Story Name: "My MIL’s Scheme to Steal My Husband Unravels a Family Secret" Part 4 of 5 I can't move. My breath hitches. Evelyn’s lips curl into that sickly sweet smile. The kind that always makes me feel like I’m being suffocated in sugar. Jake leans back, laughter illuminating his face, but I can’t bear to see the sparkle in his eyes as he lowers his voice to her. I feel my fists balling up at my sides. “Jake?” I whisper, but it comes out as a strained gasp. He doesn’t hear me. Evelyn glances up, that predatory glint in her eyes locking onto me. “Oh, dear! Gwendolyn! You finally made it!” She beckons me over, her voice dripping with feigned warmth. I want to scream, to pull Jake away, but my feet betray me. “Glad you could join us,” she croons, patting the empty chair beside Jake....
day 47 of living in a city that’s completely foreign to me. I moved here with a roommate who left after three months because she "found herself" at a retreat. I’m still stuck with her houseplant named Fred, who seems to be thriving despite the lack of care. apparently he’s more committed than some people.