जिन लोगों से मैंने बातें की थीं, अब वो सब नहीं हैं, मोबाइल में नंबर हैं पर कोई याद नहीं आता, अकेले में सोचते-सोचते लगता है जैसे मेरी ज़िंदगी एक matrimonial site है, कोई समझता नहीं, सिर्फ fake energy है, yaar, matlab samjho na.
i just found a small piece of mail from an old friend i lost touch with ages ago and somehow reading their words felt like receiving a hug—like maybe this life is still worth it, even though sometimes at night i check the locks and remember that winter and wonder how it can be both heavy and light in my chest at the same time.
so the other day i was trying to explain why i don’t believe in luck during a serious convo and instead i accidentally said “i literally believe in unicorns” and everyone just stared like okay cool i guess that’s a hot take. now i just feel like i can't face anyone until the end of time.
so the other day i was trying to explain why i don’t believe in luck during a serious convo and instead i accidentally said “i literally believe in unicorns” and everyone just stared like okay cool i guess that’s a hot take. now i just feel like i can't face anyone until the end of time.
richmond frimpong is a monster for trying to bury a baby alive while a talented kid like dominic frimpong was brutally killed — where’s the justice?