yaar, matlab samjho na, jab main khud ko mirror me dekh rahi thi aur maine apne hi reflection se poocha "tu kya kar rahi hai," toh ghar wale aise dek rahe the jaise mai paagal ho gayi hoon, par mujhe samajh hi nahi aaya ki kyu bola toh kuch nahi bola.
sometimes i think about how many hours i spent organizing my stamp collection like it mattered to anyone. but it just became this heavy burden and i never told anyone that i stopped caring about it completely.
it is weird how some nights i just sit in bed staring at my bookshelf, remembering that book i was supposed to lend to someone but never did, and now it's just there collecting dust. feels like that awkward silence you can't escape, except it is all in my head and... just me.
it is weird how some nights i just sit in bed staring at my bookshelf, remembering that book i was supposed to lend to someone but never did, and now it's just there collecting dust. feels like that awkward silence you can't escape, except it is all in my head and... just me.
so after months of late nights and endless brainstorming, my project launched and my boss took all the credit—meanwhile i'm stuck in this cramped apartment, sweating about my next rent payment, and watching my friends post about their promotions and vacations, wondering if all my hustle was worth it while i drown in spreadsheets and regret.