i feel this heavy regret for never telling my mother about the paintings i made in college, like honestly they were the only thing that really felt true to me and now i sit here thinking she will never know that part of me.
turning 40 alone in my studio eating takeout on the floor while my friends cancelled was honestly the highlight of my year, who knew a greasy box could hold more depth than my social life, like at what point do i just start sending out invitations to my own pity party, or...
yaar, literally today while cleaning I found a stack of old clothes that reminded me of when I used to work in that one family's house and honestly no one understands the stuff I did for them, घर वाले समझते नहीं.
yaar, literally today while cleaning I found a stack of old clothes that reminded me of when I used to work in that one family's house and honestly no one understands the stuff I did for them, घर वाले समझते नहीं.
i was sure i was going to bomb that presentation, i had rehearsed for days and even had a million worst-case scenarios in my head, but somehow i ended up getting the promotion instead and i still can't believe they liked it, it feels unreal.