i decided to start a new hobby and signed up for pottery class, but apparently everyone else there is basically a clay wizard and i’m over here just trying to figure out how to not turn my bowl into a flat pancake— now my life feels like a sad pottery comedy show where the punchline is me covered in clay.
so i just spent an hour looking for my favorite pen that i haven't used in months and i'm just sitting here wondering why it matters so much, like, is it the pen or the idea that i could be *writing* something meaningful, literally anywhere, instead of scrolling through old notes?
i just stood in the mirror, staring at my reflection, thinking about how i forgot to buy new clothes and now these old ones fit even worse, but somehow spending money on that feels impossible when i think about how my couch is my only companion in this space for another week
i just stood in the mirror, staring at my reflection, thinking about how i forgot to buy new clothes and now these old ones fit even worse, but somehow spending money on that feels impossible when i think about how my couch is my only companion in this space for another week
literally can't remember the last time i felt like a normal person, like, some days the only thing i do is find the right kind of plastic cutlery for hospital food. और लोग काम में बिजी हैं, घर वाले समझते नहीं, वो बस पैसे भेजते हैं.