simonledama

 Ever woken up thinking you’d just created your magnum opus, only to realize you were scribbling nonsense in your sleep? Welcome to my world—or rather, my dream world. The other night, I thought I was channeling my inner poet, crafting lyrics that would rival the greatest songwriters. I saw myself scribbling with such passion, certain I'd wake up to discover a masterpiece. Spoiler alert: I woke up to hieroglyphics that even Rosetta Stone couldn’t decipher. But here’s the kicker: what does it say about us when our subconscious is working harder than our conscious mind? In a world obsessed with productivity and genius, are we now so pressured to “create” that even our dreams are competing for attention? Or maybe my brain was just trolling me. Who knows? If you’re curious, the scribbles read something like: “Clouds…emotions…uh, whispering winds?!” Revolutionary, right? Clearly, I’m one REM cycle away from Grammy gold. But it begs the question: Is creativity something we truly control,...

  We've all encountered them—the ones who slip in and out of our lives like a missed call at 2 AM. They show up with just enough charm to make you think, maybe this time it's different, only to leave you hanging when it matters most. And when they do finally say goodbye? It’s not a clean break—it’s a 13-minute monologue disguised as closure, filled with ”I care about you, but…” and ”It’s not you, it’s me” clichés. Welcome to Bum Dial: The Commitment Issues Edition. For a moment, let’s be honest—when they first left, it hurt. Maybe you replayed the conversations, overanalyzed the texts, even wondered if you should’ve handled things differently. Did you scare them off? Did the infamous ”one-time thing” turn into an emotional bear trap? Or, the classic—did you mess up something that could’ve been real? But here’s the hard truth: if they wanted to stay, they would have. Love—real, lasting love—isn’t about a grand confession after a hookup fueled by nostalgia. It’s not about history...