so i just spent an hour trying to find my other sock that literally disappeared into the void and now i’m convinced it’s off plotting a coup with my lost keys while the dryer quietly laughs at me. like honestly, who knew laundry could turn into an espionage thriller, complete with an intermission of me swearing at inanimate objects for an audience of none.
some days i wish the elevator was just permanently broken so i wouldnt feel guilty for not going anywhere. like, maybe then i could convince myself i was safer up here, away from all the things i really don’t want to deal with.
i keep scrolling through my contacts thinking about this friend i used to be really close with, but it just feels like that was another life or something, like the messages are just ghosts of conversations that never happened, and i can never actually bring myself to hit send.
i keep scrolling through my contacts thinking about this friend i used to be really close with, but it just feels like that was another life or something, like the messages are just ghosts of conversations that never happened, and i can never actually bring myself to hit send.
so i was at this local market trying to buy some fruit and ended up mixing up the words for apples and underwear in front of the vendor—like i confidently asked for a kilo of "underwear" instead of apples and the guy just stared at me like i was a total weirdo—my face was so hot i thought it might combust.