i just watched a documentary about "as roma" and suddenly feel like my entire existence is a twisted allegory for a football team that can’t seem to figure it out. my life choices are about as consistent as their lineup changes, and now i’m left questioning if my passion for 3 am pizza runs is truly preparing me for anything beyond emotional eating. the real kicker? my crush just introduced me as ...
Story Name: "I Was the Heiress Hidden in a Trailer Park" Part 3 of 8 I freeze mid-search. A creak echoes behind me, soft but unmistakable. My pulse spikes. I turn slowly, my breath caught in my throat. “Looking for something?” The voice chills me to my core. It’s Aaron, my estranged brother, standing in the doorway. His smirk is devilish, his arms crossed. “What are you doing here?” I can ba...
it’s wild how my friend said something about how they can’t believe namita thapar and aman gupta ripped apart that guy’s pitch on TV, right? meanwhile, i'm here spiraling over the fact that I unsent a flirty message, thinking it was so clever. but of course they already saw it and now I’m stuck here, avoiding eye contact at our hangouts like I just got told my skincare routine was trash. what am I supposed to say next time, “sorry for manifesting bad vibes?” #NamitaThapar #AwkwardMoments
it’s wild how my friend said something about how they can’t believe namita thapar and aman gupta ripped apart that guy’s pitch on TV, right? meanwhile, i'm here spiraling over the fact that I unsent a flirty message, thinking it was so clever. but of course they already saw it and now I’m stuck here, avoiding eye contact at our hangouts like I just got told my skincare routine was trash. what am I supposed to say next time, “sorry for manifesting bad vibes?” #NamitaThapar #AwkwardMoments
wait. i just found out that sunil grover is killing it and here i am, pretending my notes app isn’t a digital diary of my desperate prayers for the barista to notice me—like, do you know how many weird manifesting rituals I have? too many. yesterday, I wrote out a whole dialogue about how I would confess my feelings, only to realize I’ve spelled their name wrong 57 times. oh and fun fact—my therap...