sitting in my tiny apartment with peeling paint, i scroll through posts of my old classmates on vacations, buying houses, living their best lives, while i can barely keep the plants alive, and that voice in my head never stops reminding me of what my mom said, like a never-ending soundtrack to my failures.
honestly, i found an old playlist that reminded me of late night drives and feeling alive, now it's just silence and scrolling through contacts but nobody gets it, like yaar, matlab samjho na, kaise kisi ko kuch nahi batata. घर वाले समझते नहीं, the loneliness is just so loud.
been trying to reach the floor where the mailboxes are for weeks now, think i am developing an emotional attachment to the delivery guy. he probably thinks i am some kind of weird hermit but like, how do you explain that your apartment has basically turned into a prison, not like anyone would really get it anyway…
been trying to reach the floor where the mailboxes are for weeks now, think i am developing an emotional attachment to the delivery guy. he probably thinks i am some kind of weird hermit but like, how do you explain that your apartment has basically turned into a prison, not like anyone would really get it anyway…
بہت پیسے بچانے کی کوشش کر رہی ہوں پر پتہ نہیں کیوں میرے بجٹ سے ہمیشہ کمی رہتی ہے—صبح کی چائے تک میں نے خود سے سوال کیا کہ کیسے یہ رقم کام کرے گی جب اگلے مہینے کا کرایہ آ رہا ہے اور کچھ خرچے بھی—کبھی کبھی سوچتی ہوں کہ کس طرح یہ سب برداشت کر سکتی ہوں۔