Just a Glimpse of What This Page Is Going to Be About
Life has been a bitch. It mostly is.
I am 34 and single. (Recently broke up—from being proposed to being rejected—but that’s a story for another day.)
I just messed up an important interview that could have changed my life. Got rejected in the final round, which is very hard to mess up.
I had decided on buying land in the hills—everything was finalised, the agreement made, an advance paid—but even that deal is about to fall through.
Life has been hitting hard from all ends.
Is it just me, or does life always seem to shatter like a house of cards the moment it feels sorted? Disappointments everywhere. Too much to deal with, right?
And in all this stress, I’ve been smoking. Sometimes 10 a day. I’m trying to quit, but it all falls apart. It’s the only thing keeping me going right now. It relieves stress. It makes me feel cool when I light a cigarette in front of my bathroom mirror, AirPods in my ears, blaring some loud Punjabi song, making me think I’m the coolest fucking person alive with all the swag.
That’s been my escape. Quite ironic, isn’t it? The one thing harming me the most is also the only thing bringing me peace.
But then the cigarette burns out, and I hate the aftermath—the taste in my mouth, my body feeling sluggish, my hair smelling of smoke, and my skin looking a little dull.
I’m a pretty girl, and I glow even harder when I’m not smoking. I look like a 24-year-old in a 34-year-old’s body.
Okay, maybe that’s a stretch—28 it is.
I’m slim, with light brown wavy hair and olive skin. Sharp cheekbones, a defined jawline, small pouty lips, and almond eyes. Almost perfect. Yeah, almost.
I oscillate between thinking I’m the prettiest girl around and feeling like I look completely average. Nothing spectacular.
Maybe it’s my hormones. Or maybe it’s just me. The under confident one or the goddess—I can never tell.
So that’s a pretty good insight into my mind.
And if you’re up for this, there’s going to be much more.
It’ll be anonymous, though.
Why is it always easier to say everything anonymously? Why is it so difficult to bare our true selves in front of everyone, yet so easy when no one knows who we are?
Anonymously, people might appreciate my personality, my grey shades.
But if they attach my words to my face, to the way I speak in person, judgment creeps in.
Sure, even anonymously, there will be judgment.
But it won’t affect me as much.
So, I’m starting this blog to be brutally, unapologetically honest—to say everything I want without filters. To connect beyond social labels.
Maybe, over time, I’ll drop hints about who I am.
Or maybe, it’s better if I stay a mystery.
Love <3 With a dash of chaos,
—Jenny
