i just typed a whole thing and the app crashed, and although it wasn't specifically about anything but now it does feel like that I'll never be able to write something that is the same as that. it might be vaguely familiar at best but it'll never be the same.
it’s a random monday night, the clock strikes 1 AM and it’s the 3rd hour of me doom-scrolling through my Instagram feed. i rarely use my main account anymore, i don’t like knowing what people are doing in their lives while i lay in bed doing absolutely nothing for the millionth night in a row. this account seems peaceful, i don’t follow anyone i know here.. it’s just a bunch of random strangers i met on the internet. who are surprisingly good at what they do and i adore it. i adore the fact that among the millions of faceless faces i see in the day to day life, i somehow stumbled upon this gold mine of creativity. the thing with art kids is that if you come across one, you sooner than later are surrounded by tens and hundreds of them. the thought that i am in this circle of these cool kids and they follow me based on my work led to a pleasant rhetoric, “am i cool or something?’. to be honest, i would not know. i have never engaged in self praise concerning with the count of followers i or people around me have had, but this feels like something i am rather proud of. hehe.
“Geminis are obsessed with hands and I can see it in you”, Anoushka said ever so canonically on a March afternoon at my place. I was confused as to where she was coming from, looking around to realize my hand was in hers without me ever making a conscious call to do it. Apart from the slightly annoying and funny generalization of traits that Anoushka indulged in, it was an unravelling for something that I have been doing for so long.