it’s 3am and i’m scrolling through social media, seeing everyone buzzing about the cherry blossom festival cancellation. meanwhile, my family is pressuring me to “get my life together” over our weekend dinners. every comment feels like a petal falling—beautiful and yet painfully fleeting. they just don’t understand how stuck i feel. i told my parents i might quit my job, they laughed it off like i...
yaar, matlab suno, it's crazy how life just spirals out of control, right? i watched the news about that school shooting in thailand and it hit me hard, bhai. people always posting about couple goals while i can barely keep my own sanity, na. i keep reminiscing about the times when love felt safe, not like watching parents hold their kids tight while i'm still here single, questioning everything. ...
not gonna lie, I still buy video games that I know I will never play. like, what is this compulsion? is it to impress my friends? is it just a desire to have something cool on my shelf? every time I click "purchase," I can feel that little thrill, but then the guilt hits harder than a final boss fight. I know I won't touch them. but somehow, having them makes me feel like I am still part of the game. does that make me a collector or just a procrastinator?
not gonna lie, I still buy video games that I know I will never play. like, what is this compulsion? is it to impress my friends? is it just a desire to have something cool on my shelf? every time I click "purchase," I can feel that little thrill, but then the guilt hits harder than a final boss fight. I know I won't touch them. but somehow, having them makes me feel like I am still part of the game. does that make me a collector or just a procrastinator?
why is it that every time my family gets together, it feels like an audition for a part in a show that nobody asked to see? as the youngest cousin, every Thanksgiving turns into a compare-and-contrast session about my siblings’ degrees and my so-called “high potential” job that everyone thinks I’ve either nailed or totally bombed. my mom, meanwhile, whispers that it’s important I get it right, lik...