nessnote
433 subscribers
667 photos
128 videos
20 links
somewhere between brainrot and peak wisdom
(lowkey a photo dump too)
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i'm a performative yearner.
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i glitch so much while speaking. not a single thought gets completed after leaving my mouth htt bc
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i like people who can sense when to stop talking to me
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supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
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TELEGRAM KI DOWNLOAD SPEED ITNI SLOW KYU HO GAYI H
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accompany me in the vc till this is downloaded
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Live stream started
Live stream finished (3 hours)
Media is too big
VIEW IN TELEGRAM
this is just a trial video to see if i can record
tell karo how this is. (judge harshly)
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instagram ki mkc mujhe aot ki edits kyu dikha raha h bkl
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this chic has been coming to me for do waqt ki roti everyday for 4 years now. what are we?
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Forwarded from nessnote
bohot zor se crashout aa rha h
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there is a reason i don’t want the people i know to be in this channel man. UGHHHHH
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gotta renovate the channel a bit because apparently people who were not supposed to know about it's existence are aware of it?
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Channel name was changed to Β«nessnoteΒ»
yaar mera dimag blast ho jayega
i miss somsom
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better delete these fuckass aot "reviews"
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FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
my bored self is my biggest enemy
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i thought i would leave all of this behind with the old year. but i suppose made promises out of desperation. they were brittle promises tho. i should have known they would crack the moment i touched them. why do i insist on dressing myself up as someone better every january? i knew i wasn’t that strong and still i let myself believe that naming a new year could cauterize old wounds. i ruin things with such precision that it feels almost deliberate, like i am loyal only to my own undoing. i told myself i wouldn’t text him again, but my hands moved faster than my brain. the worst part is not that i failed, but that i already know i will fail again. it’s a pattern.
so why keep up the facade? why pretend i am cured when i am still bleeding in the same places? i am exhausted by my own performance of recovery. i want to get better but there is a part of me that reaches backward, that drags me down because at least there i know the shape of my misery.
maybe this is what it means to live inside yourself - to be both the wound and the hand that keeps pressing on it, wondering why it won’t heal.
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