just realized that my excuse for missing game night was literally just me pretending to have plans, when in reality, i was hiding in my room binge-watching bad reality TV while clutching a bag of stale chips. honestly, it's a little embarrassing. like, who knew that saying “oh, I have plans” felt easier than admitting i can’t afford to leave the house? the truth is, i don't even remember the last ...
it's day thirty of pretending to be fine at family gatherings while everyone else talks about promotions and vacations. meanwhile, i'm juggling hidden student loans and a life that feels like i’m always a cricket match behind. honestly, sometimes i daydream about just shouting out how broke i am instead of nodding along, but then they’ll just think it’s a joke, right? yaar, matlab samjho na, کوئی ...
have you ever watched a stranger on the bus eating an overpriced gourmet sandwich, thinking that even that sandwich has a better life than you? meanwhile, your own lunch is just yesterday's cold pizza sitting in a sad takeout container, full of bad choices. everyone seems to be winning at life while you are stuck in the waiting room of mediocrity, scrolling through their highlighted lives. sometimes, i wonder if my true talent is simply watching people flourish as i wilt like a forgotten houseplant, dehydrated and bewildered. the awkward smile of a roommate with a brand-new car while you sit in your twelve-year-old sedan that smells like despair? exquisite! like a one-man play in the theater of life, starring YOU as the disappointed understudy in your own existence.
have you ever watched a stranger on the bus eating an overpriced gourmet sandwich, thinking that even that sandwich has a better life than you? meanwhile, your own lunch is just yesterday's cold pizza sitting in a sad takeout container, full of bad choices. everyone seems to be winning at life while you are stuck in the waiting room of mediocrity, scrolling through their highlighted lives. sometimes, i wonder if my true talent is simply watching people flourish as i wilt like a forgotten houseplant, dehydrated and bewildered. the awkward smile of a roommate with a brand-new car while you sit in your twelve-year-old sedan that smells like despair? exquisite! like a one-man play in the theater of life, starring YOU as the disappointed understudy in your own existence.
sometimes I wonder if everyone around me is in on a joke I’m not invited to. I scroll through feeds full of extravagant weddings, surprise trips to distant islands, and gourmet meals at restaurants I didn’t even know existed. then there’s me, celebrating the fact that my toaster still works while simultaneously becoming a champion at picking the wrong pizza toppings. by the time I finish feeling s...