I love him okay but his expressions are not easy to draw and ik drawing as much as ik maths
So it's my mom's birthday tomorrow and I've ordered her a small fan to use when she's in kitchen as i observed that she keeps getting hot flashes
Your sign to gift your mum a mini fan is all I'm saying🩷
Your sign to gift your mum a mini fan is all I'm saying🩷
❤4
Someone said it right that how people be posting dumps by the end of the day of the exact same day-
Coz I'm still figuring out how to put a story of the time i went out in October last year
Coz I'm still figuring out how to put a story of the time i went out in October last year
But you offered me a kiss
Why
Such a foolish reason
I'm afraid
I just wanted to kiss you
Why
Such a foolish reason
I'm afraid
I just wanted to kiss you
Forwarded from Resilience.
Unfiltered thots before i enter my granny era 👵
I almost forgot my birthday was coming upuntil a friend casually reminded me. I was like, “yeah, it’s far away,” and she hit me with, “it’s next month, babe.” And just like that,the wave I didn’t see coming was right over me.
The last few birthdays haven’t been the best. But last year felt different and maybe it was because I expected nothing. Birthdays are supposed to be these happy, celebratory events, right? Full of surprises, people showing up, making you feel special. But when those expectations aren’t met—when there’s low effort, no celebration, or that silent realization that no one really remembered. it stings,quietly, deeply.
It’s not just about the cake or the party. It’s the ticking clock in your head. Another year gone by. Another list of goals still unchecked. The weight of “where I thought I’d be by now” versus where I actually am. That hits harder than any missed wish.
As we grow up, that childhood excitement slowly fades. The world starts feeling heavier. Life begins to ask for answers we’re still figuring out. And this year, I turn 20. No more teenage cushion—just a straight-up adult now (scary, right?). Too many responsibilities, too many things to prove, too many dreams to chase... and all this while trying not to lose your mind.
But bina sangharsh ke kaisa maza?maybe that’s how it’s meant to be. A little chaos, a few breakdowns, a handful of lessons and somewhere in between, small joys and big wins.
So here’s to turning 20. To not having it all figured out. To letting go of fairytale birthdays and holding on to quiet hope. And to learning that even when it’s messy, it’s still your story and you get to write it.
I almost forgot my birthday was coming upuntil a friend casually reminded me. I was like, “yeah, it’s far away,” and she hit me with, “it’s next month, babe.” And just like that,the wave I didn’t see coming was right over me.
The last few birthdays haven’t been the best. But last year felt different and maybe it was because I expected nothing. Birthdays are supposed to be these happy, celebratory events, right? Full of surprises, people showing up, making you feel special. But when those expectations aren’t met—when there’s low effort, no celebration, or that silent realization that no one really remembered. it stings,quietly, deeply.
It’s not just about the cake or the party. It’s the ticking clock in your head. Another year gone by. Another list of goals still unchecked. The weight of “where I thought I’d be by now” versus where I actually am. That hits harder than any missed wish.
As we grow up, that childhood excitement slowly fades. The world starts feeling heavier. Life begins to ask for answers we’re still figuring out. And this year, I turn 20. No more teenage cushion—just a straight-up adult now (scary, right?). Too many responsibilities, too many things to prove, too many dreams to chase... and all this while trying not to lose your mind.
But bina sangharsh ke kaisa maza?maybe that’s how it’s meant to be. A little chaos, a few breakdowns, a handful of lessons and somewhere in between, small joys and big wins.
So here’s to turning 20. To not having it all figured out. To letting go of fairytale birthdays and holding on to quiet hope. And to learning that even when it’s messy, it’s still your story and you get to write it.