so i just realized that people treat grief like a trendy diet plan — everyone jumps on board for two weeks and then it’s like poof, you are literally invisible. i guess i should start charging for support like those wellness gurus, because at this point, it feels like the only way to stay relevant.
sitting in my cramped apartment with a view of my neighbor's messy yard while my siblings are off buying houses and planning vacations makes me feel like i am running in place—every day at the nursing home, the same old stories repeating in my mind like a broken record, and i just want to scream sometimes. i scroll through social media watching their lives shine and it just... it stings, you know?
यार, समझो न, दिन भर में कभी सोने नहीं मिलता, सब घर वाले टीवी पर जड़ हुए हैं, फिर भी चार्ली चार्ली खेलते हैं मुझे नहीं जाने क्यों. अकेला चुपचाप खुद को समेटे बैठा हूँ, जैसे मैंने खुद को भुला दिया हो, कोई समझता नहीं.
यार, समझो न, दिन भर में कभी सोने नहीं मिलता, सब घर वाले टीवी पर जड़ हुए हैं, फिर भी चार्ली चार्ली खेलते हैं मुझे नहीं जाने क्यों. अकेला चुपचाप खुद को समेटे बैठा हूँ, जैसे मैंने खुद को भुला दिया हो, कोई समझता नहीं.
sometimes i find myself thinking about how much energy it takes to just survive, like who knew i’d be selling off old toys to afford a shot at keeping hope alive. while the world’s busy on its space fantasies, here i am wondering if i should keep this old lamp or let it go for a bit of relief.