spent all day looking at my phone scrolling through old messages and contacts but the only person i could reach out to was a ghost from years ago who probably doesn’t even remember me, feels strange to feel so alone in a crowd of memories that don’t include the present.
کچھ لوگ بڑی کامیابیاں حاصل کر رہے ہیں اور میں اپنے اپارٹمنٹ میں اس ناکام جاب میں وقت گزار رہا ہوں جس سے مجھے نفرت ہے، گھر والے سمجھتے نہیں کہ میری پڑھائی کا پیسہ کس طرح لگا ہے، کبھی کبھی تو صرف ایک چائے کی طلب ہوتی ہے جو مجھے یاد دلاتا ہے کہ یہ سب کیسا ہے۔
why does everyone at work keep saying i am too young for a stroke like they think i asked for this or something and it makes me so mad like strokes do not check your age at the door okay and now i have to relearn how to hold a fork while they eat their stupid lunches like who is the real victim here
why does everyone at work keep saying i am too young for a stroke like they think i asked for this or something and it makes me so mad like strokes do not check your age at the door okay and now i have to relearn how to hold a fork while they eat their stupid lunches like who is the real victim here
i just found out i have this really embarrassing obsession with collecting matchbooks, like the old school ones. but now i just stare at the boxes piled up and feel kinda dumb about it like what am i even doing with my life.