found an old notebook today, pages filled with thoughts that never went anywhere, reminders of how long its been since i shared anything meaningful with anyone, scrolled through my contacts hoping to find someone to reach out to but every name felt like just a reminder of distance and time slipping away.
i saw my old diary under the bed yesterday and it felt like someone else’s life. so many dreams that never happened, and now i just wish i’d written down what it was like to be that person back then, before i got so... lost.
yaar, matlab samjho na, जब वो शराब पीता है तो सब कुछ बदल जाता है - पड़ोसी सुनते हैं पर कोई मदद नहीं करता, सबको लगता है ये हमारा मामला है। मैं तो बस चुप रहती हूं, कोई समझता नहीं।
yaar, matlab samjho na, जब वो शराब पीता है तो सब कुछ बदल जाता है - पड़ोसी सुनते हैं पर कोई मदद नहीं करता, सबको लगता है ये हमारा मामला है। मैं तो बस चुप रहती हूं, कोई समझता नहीं।
so today i spilled coffee on my keyboard and it basically short-circuited, now i have to use a spoon to hit the keys because it has become a weird artistic installation called "drowning in caffeinated chaos" while the words i type disappear and my entire existence feels like an absurdist performance art piece no one asked for, why do i even bother