Is it just me, or is picking a movie for movie night the equivalent of negotiating world peace? I mean, one minute you're vibing with 'let's watch something fun' and the next you're deep in a debate about whether rom-coms are just a waste of time. And then there’s always that one friend who insists on watching something “smart” that no one has heard of, while I’m over here just wanting to see peop...
You ever notice how every time you try to have a serious conversation with someone, you end up just listing your traumas like it's some kind of competitive sport? Like, "Oh, you think that’s bad? Let me tell you about my five-hour wait at the airport because of a delayed flight... and my ex texting me during that time!" Honestly, I’m starting to believe sharing painful stories is just a way of bon...
So I decided to finally start reading the acclaimed "classic" everyone raves about, only to find myself 100 pages in and wondering if it's too late to switch back to my usual fantasy novels. I mean, why does every character have to spend an entire chapter describing a tree? At this rate, I'm convinced the author just wanted to avoid writing an actual plot. Meanwhile, my friends are out here gobbling up the latest releases like it’s some sort of literary buffet. What’s the deal with these “must-reads” anyway? Are they just there to make us feel bad about choosing Netflix over prose?
So I decided to finally start reading the acclaimed "classic" everyone raves about, only to find myself 100 pages in and wondering if it's too late to switch back to my usual fantasy novels. I mean, why does every character have to spend an entire chapter describing a tree? At this rate, I'm convinced the author just wanted to avoid writing an actual plot. Meanwhile, my friends are out here gobbling up the latest releases like it’s some sort of literary buffet. What’s the deal with these “must-reads” anyway? Are they just there to make us feel bad about choosing Netflix over prose?
Why do I feel like every time I clean my room, I just end up creating a better hiding spot for the mess? Like, I’ll shove everything under my bed and tell myself I’m "organized now." Meanwhile, my socks are plotting a rebellion somewhere in the depths of that chaos. Also, why does it feel like everything I’m trying to avoid in life is always right there, staring me in the face when I open that clo...