Bad habits
moon-coloured glasses
People like to talk about rose-coloured glasses, as if that’s the only kind of distortion that matters. As if optimism is the most dangerous drug. The sweet little delusion, the blur of affection that makes everything look kinder. You love, so you overlook. You believe, so you don’t question. Red flags turn pastel. You’re naive, and you’re hopeful.
By nicoabout a year ago in Confessions
I Lied About My Age for 3 Years—And He Still Chose to Believe Me
I didn’t mean to lie, at first. It wasn’t premeditated. It was one of those little things that slip out and hang in the air longer than you expect them to. We were at a bar, I was with a friend, he was sitting alone, and we started talking. I was 29. I told him I was 25.
By Noman Khan about a year ago in Confessions
The Upstairs Virtuoso's Shadow
Charles lived above. Apartment 3B. He was a man of strong passions. He played the violin. Played it well, with a fierce concentration. He grew things. Green things. His balcony was a small, dense jungle. Ferns cascaded over the edges. Vines gripped the railings like determined fingers. He kept birds too. Finches, perhaps. Bright flashes of movement. He trained them. They answered his low whistle with sharp, clear trills. To Charles, it was a life lived fully. Sound. Leaf. Song. Good.
By Heydoabout a year ago in Confessions
She Got One Wish—and Used It to Destroy the World
Arielle was invisible. Not literally—but as close as someone could get. No family. No close friends. Her co-workers barely remembered her name. Her neighbors didn’t make eye contact. She passed through life like a shadow, and eventually, she stopped trying to be seen. So, when the man in the alley offered her a wish, she assumed it was a scam. Or a breakdown. Maybe even a joke played by the universe. But his eyes glowed—not with malice, but with something older, deeper. Something real. “One wish,” he said. “No tricks. No consequences you don’t choose. Say it, and it’s done.” She laughed in his face and walked away. But he didn’t disappear. She saw him on the street corner the next day. Then at the bus stop. Then, standing under her window as it rained. He never spoke again. Just waited. Three days passed before she approached him again. Her voice was flat. “Anything?” He nodded. She looked past him, as if expecting to wake up. “Even if it changes everything?” “That’s what wishes are for.” She thought long and hard. And when the words came, they came quietly—like a blade sliding from its sheath. “I wish,” she said, “for the truth to be known. All of it. By everyone. Everywhere. All at once.” The man’s expression didn’t change. “Are you sure?” Arielle met his glowing eyes. “Yes.” And just like that, it was done. --- At first, the world didn’t notice. Then the cracks appeared. Emails surfaced. Classified files became public. Whispered conversations turned into viral clips, with perfect audio. Every hidden act, every lie, every secret: exposed. World leaders collapsed under the weight of their own deception. CEOs were arrested or vanished overnight. Criminals turned themselves in, compelled by unbearable guilt. Even saints were stripped of their halos. Every person on Earth suddenly knew the truth—not just about the world, but about themselves. Every shameful thought. Every suppressed desire. Every betrayal. There were no more secrets. No more filters. Some people went mad. Others went violent. --- Riots erupted within 48 hours. Civil wars sparked across nations. Religious institutions crumbled. The economy imploded when markets saw what corporations had hidden for decades. But that was just the beginning. Marriages shattered. Parents disowned children. Neighbors turned on each other. Suicide rates spiked. Entire cities burned. In a matter of days, humanity realized it had never been built on trust—but on illusion. The polite lies that kept people civil. The white lies that smoothed over rough edges. The hidden sins that went unspoken for the sake of peace. Now, all of it was gone. --- And Arielle watched. She wasn’t immune to the wish. She knew the truth about herself, too. Every selfish moment. Every petty cruelty. The bitterness she’d buried. The times she could’ve saved someone, spoken up, reached out—but didn’t. She saw how invisible she had become because she had chosen it. Chosen safety over connection. Isolation over pain. She wasn’t a victim of the world—she had opted out of it. And still, she didn’t regret the wish. Because finally, the mask was off. Everywhere. --- On the 15th day, nuclear warheads launched. Not out of greed. But panic. The world’s last moments weren’t filmed, but they were understood—by everyone left. The sky turned red. The oceans boiled. The truth had set humanity free. Free to destroy itself. --- Arielle stood in the ashes, alone. The stranger was there again, untouched, unchanged. “You did this,” he said—not with blame, but observation. She nodded. “Why?” Arielle looked out over the ruins. “Because I wanted everyone to feel it. What I felt. To see how fake everything was. I was tired of pretending. Of watching people lie to each other. To themselves.” He said nothing. She turned to him. “You offered me a wish. You didn’t say it had to be beautiful.” “That’s true,” he admitted. “But was this the world you wanted?” “No,” she whispered. “But it was the truth.” --- Silence fell again. And then, a thought. “I didn’t wish for the truth to be understood,” she said slowly. “Only known. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much.” “Would you undo it, if you could?” She hesitated. Her face hardened. “No,” she said. “Maybe the world deserved to end this way. Maybe this was mercy.” He tilted his head. “Or maybe it was revenge.” She didn’t respond. Arielle stood alone as the last wind howled through what remained of cities, temples, monuments, and dreams. The last human who had chosen to burn it all down—not for power, but for something more dangerous: Clarity. --- Tags: #SpeculativeFiction #Dystopian #Apocalyptic #PhilosophicalFiction #DarkFantasy #Truth #WishGoneWrong #ShortStory #ViralFiction #EndOfTheWorld Suggested Communities: Fiction, Futurism, The Swamp, Horror, Confessions Cover Image Prompt (for AI or stock selection): A lone woman standing in a post-apocalyptic landscape, surrounded by collapsed buildings and glowing symbols in the sky that resemble ancient script or computer code, with a quiet expression—neither proud nor sad—just resolute.
By Zeeshan Khanabout a year ago in Confessions
How Procrastination destroy dream
There once lived a young man named Ethan in a peaceful town nestled between green hills and flowing rivers. Bright, intelligent, and creative, Ethan was the kind of person teachers praised and relatives admired. People would often say, “He has a spark in him. One day, he’ll do great things.”
By Alex Farnandoabout a year ago in Confessions
Stop Telling Me to Be Grateful — Gratitude Won’t Pay the Bills
There’s this thing people love to say when life gets tough: “Be grateful.” And look — I get it. Gratitude has its place. I’m grateful to be where I am. I’m grateful to have a healthy son. I’m grateful to have a job, a roof, and food on the table.
By Ming C.about a year ago in Confessions
My Journey From Self-Doubt to Self-Love
There was a time when just getting through the day felt like carrying a thousand-pound weight I couldn’t name. I’d smile at people, laugh at the right moments, and keep myself “put together.” But inside? I was constantly battling the belief that I wasn’t good enough, like no matter what I did, I was always falling short. Of what exactly? I wasn’t even sure. All I knew was that I couldn’t keep living like that.
By Asmatullah Afridiabout a year ago in Confessions
The Lie That Saved My Family
I never thought one lie could change everything. I used to believe honesty was sacred, that truth was the foundation of love, trust, and family. But that was before the day I picked up the phone and lied to my mother to save the life we had all built together.
By Aliabout a year ago in Confessions
Lessons I Learned From Letting Go of Toxic Relationships. AI-Generated.
I used to believe that love meant never giving up. That loyalty meant holding on, no matter how hard it got. That if I just stayed patient, or gave more, things would eventually get better.
By Asmatullah Afridiabout a year ago in Confessions
