Sometime after midnight. The witching hour for bad decisions and worse feelings.
– Fuck My Life. But not in the dramatic, movie-montage way. In the quiet, exhausting way where nothing catastrophic happened today, and yet everything feels heavy. You woke up to an alarm you snoozed four times. You stared at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, negotiating with yourself about the mere act of standing up. You finally did. And that was the peak of your victory for the day. fml tt aswathi
Remember last year? The betrayal, the failure, the night you sat on the bathroom floor and thought you’d never laugh again? You’re still here. The laugh came back. It always does, even when you’re sure it won’t. Sometime after midnight
So this draft—this messy, un-sendable, punctuation-less scream of “fml tt aswathi”—isn’t a white flag. It’s a receipt. Proof that you showed up to a hard day and didn’t disappear. But not in the dramatic, movie-montage way