Story Name: "The Story That Changed Everything" Part 4 of 5 I shove Jake's shoulder, my pulse pounding in my ears. "How could you do this to me?" My voice is tight, barely holding back the rage bubbling inside me. He stumbles backward, his eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I can explain! It’s not what you think!” I scoff, my heart racing as I glance back at Mia....
i just looked in the mirror and saw my parents looking back. not their faces but their BANK ACCOUNTS—like, who knew genetic traits included POOR DECISION MAKING? my reflection just yelled "who's paying for these five subscription services?" as if the cosmic universe aligned to make my financial struggles a FAMILY HEIRLOOM. i’m still holding on to this ONE coffee mug from college—like it has more v...
ok but like, sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake not becoming a professional javelin thrower. I mean, it's literally the most ridiculous thing to think about while sitting at my desk staring at spreadsheets, but can you imagine the joy of flinging something instead of pushing papers? now, I just prepare a funeral outfit for work meetings in case the spreadsheets get me. like, death by PowerPoint seems likely at this point.
ok but like, sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake not becoming a professional javelin thrower. I mean, it's literally the most ridiculous thing to think about while sitting at my desk staring at spreadsheets, but can you imagine the joy of flinging something instead of pushing papers? now, I just prepare a funeral outfit for work meetings in case the spreadsheets get me. like, death by PowerPoint seems likely at this point.
you know you’re in too deep when your spotify wrapped feels like an intervention from your friends, exposing your inner chaos of sad ballads, guilty pleasure 2000s pop, and random anime soundtracks that scream “help me.” turns out I’m not just a hot mess. I’m a whole art installation about emotional instability and nostalgia.