i was scrolling through an old photo album last night, and there it was—a picture of me in a goofy hat at my graduation party. nobody warned me that adulthood meant telling my landlord “no” while my heart screamed “please.” rent is due tomorrow, and i just saw my balance dip below fifty dollars. how can i celebrate milestones when i can’t even afford to fill my tank? did i really think wearing tha...
the west indies cricket team is in a match-fixing scandal, and guess what? while the ICC flexes its muscles with suspensions, it still ignores the fact that major corporations, like ESPN, profit off the scandalous theatrics of the sport. in 2022, they raked in 11.4 billion dollars from sports broadcasts, and yet, none of that money seems to trickle down to ensuring integrity in the game. but hey, ...
last night, I found an unopened bottle of hand sanitizer from my wedding—three months in and I finally got through the worst of it; the panic calls, the sleepless nights wondering if I’d get locked into something that would ruin me, but then it turns out—my spouse turned to therapy instead of the casinos. who knew therapy was the magic bullet for someone with a gambling addiction? it feels like I've stumbled onto the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle I never thought I could complete, and now I’m thinking maybe I can make that empty bottle a quirky vase for dried flowers instead of a symbol of fear. life is absurd.
last night, I found an unopened bottle of hand sanitizer from my wedding—three months in and I finally got through the worst of it; the panic calls, the sleepless nights wondering if I’d get locked into something that would ruin me, but then it turns out—my spouse turned to therapy instead of the casinos. who knew therapy was the magic bullet for someone with a gambling addiction? it feels like I've stumbled onto the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle I never thought I could complete, and now I’m thinking maybe I can make that empty bottle a quirky vase for dried flowers instead of a symbol of fear. life is absurd.
not gonna lie, sometimes i scroll through my contacts, and it feels like a graveyard of lost connections. like, should i really call someone and make small talk about their weekend when i haven’t spoken to them in two years? the loneliness feels like an unpaid bill, and the reminder pops up every few weeks like “hey, you’re still here, and nobody’s rushing to pay you any mind.” at this point, even...