so my parents dressed in black for my coming out, right? like i just told them i’m gay and they decided it was the perfect time for an amateur funeral, which is cool and all but i was still there, breathing, trying to explain how they misinterpreted "i’m not dating that boy" like it was some kind of eulogy or something, and i am just sitting there, wondering if i need to start planning the posthum...
yaar, matlab samjho na, मैं अब ये सोचता हूँ कि क्या कभी मेरे घर में कोई सच बोलेगा या सब बस पेट की बीमारी से बचते रहेंगे।
sitting there at that funeral while they fought over who gets the china—part of me wished it would just burn along with everything else, not because I wanted to be heartless but because I felt so empty watching them fight about things that didn’t matter at all.
sitting there at that funeral while they fought over who gets the china—part of me wished it would just burn along with everything else, not because I wanted to be heartless but because I felt so empty watching them fight about things that didn’t matter at all.
so i finally decided to start making my own clothes - bought a sewing machine and everything, thought it would be a fun way to unwind after work - except now my living room looks like a fabric bomb went off and i spend more time untangling thread than actually sewing anything - not sure if this was a genius idea or just a chaotic mess.