Friendship
The Flower That Never Bloomed and Why I Still Wait
This isn’t just about a flower. It’s about memory. Presence. Grief. An old mechanic who told me something wild by a river. And a silent cactus that’s been sitting outside my window for ten years, daring me to believe it still has a soul.
By Black Vanillaabout a year ago in Confessions
I Lived in Silence for a Year After My Friend’s Suicide
I didn’t cry at his funeral. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I physically couldn’t. My body felt frozen, my throat closed, and my chest was hollow. The only thing I could hear was the echo of my own heartbeat, slow and heavy like guilt.
By Ayaz L Behraniabout a year ago in Confessions
“The Last Message I Never Sent”
I still have it—your last message. Unsent. Unfinished. Unspoken. It’s been over a year since we ended things, but that message still sits there in my drafts, frozen in time. I open it sometimes, just to remind myself how close I came to saying it all… and how far I was from actually doing it.
By Silent Confessionsabout a year ago in Confessions
Trump’s African Summit: A Modern Display of Colonial Power
Trump’s African Summit: A Modern Display of Colonial Power On July 9, 2025, the White House became the stage for a troubling diplomatic theatre, as United States President Donald Trump hosted a mini-summit with the leaders of Gabon, Guinea-Bissau, Liberia, Mauritania, and Senegal. What was billed as a friendly summit about economic cooperation quickly revealed itself as a spectacle of domination and submission, raising critical questions about modern-day power dynamics between Africa and the West. Diplomacy Disguised as Control Trump opened the summit with a brief speech, claiming the five visiting presidents were “representing the entire African continent.” This gross oversimplification ignored both the vast cultural, economic, and political diversity of Africa and the reality that these five nations play a relatively minor role in U.S.-Africa trade. Trump’s primary focus was not on partnership but on Africa’s riches: gold, oil, and rare minerals. His praise for these nations centered not on their people, culture, or innovation, but on the wealth buried beneath their soil. The meeting’s timing only sharpened the contradictions in Trump’s message. On the same day, his administration escalated its global trade war, imposing new tariffs on eight countries, including African nations Libya and Algeria. The contradiction was glaring: while the U.S. president spoke of “strengthening ties with Africa,” he was simultaneously penalizing African economies elsewhere. Critics argue that this is the true face of Trump’s Africa policy—where “partnership” means compliance and where rewards are conditional upon submission. A Scripted Performance of Deference The summit quickly turned into a carefully choreographed performance. Trump, playing the role of master of ceremonies, invited—though effectively instructed—his guests to speak to the media. Each African leader played their part, offering Trump glowing praise in a manner that seemed rehearsed and reluctant. Mauritania’s President Mohamed Ould Ghazouani, who had served as the African Union (AU) Chair in 2024, led this display of flattery. In a particularly surreal moment, he declared Trump a global peacemaker, bizarrely crediting him with stopping a war between Iran and Israel. This narrative ignored the U.S.'s ongoing military support for Israel’s devastating assault on Gaza—an act that the African Union itself had condemned. Ghazouani’s silence on Palestine, in exchange for possible economic favor, was a painful reminder of the compromises leaders sometimes make on the global stage. Senegal’s President Bassirou Diomaye Faye, once a symbol of anti-imperialist politics and youthful reform, was particularly disappointing. Having campaigned on breaking away from neocolonial structures, Faye instead requested that Trump build a golf course in Senegal—an ask that symbolized not independence, but submission to foreign leisure interests. Trump’s response was to compliment Faye on his youthful appearance, brushing aside the request like a schoolteacher humoring a child. Gabon’s President Brice Oligui Nguema tried to discuss “win-win partnerships,” only to be met with lukewarm interest. Liberia’s President Joseph Boakai impressed Trump, but not for his policy ideas. Instead, Trump marveled at his English fluency, asking in astonishment, “Where did you learn to speak so beautifully? Where? In Liberia?” The question betrayed not only ignorance of Liberia’s founding by freed American slaves in 1822 but also a racist surprise that an African leader could be articulate in English. Colonial Attitudes in the Modern Era Trump’s remarks and attitudes throughout the summit echoed a long history of colonial condescension. His surprise at Boakai’s language skills mirrored the colonial-era belief that Africans who adopted Western customs or languages were anomalies, curiosities to be admired for their proximity to whiteness rather than their own merits. Similarly, at a previous White House event, Trump reduced an Angolan journalist, Hariana Veras, to her looks, publicly calling her “beautiful” during a peace ceremony between the DRC and Rwanda—another deeply inappropriate and objectifying comment that continued the legacy of sexualizing and diminishing Black women. The summit was not an isolated incident but part of a broader pattern in Trump’s dealings with Africa: transactional, dismissive, and rooted in old imperial power dynamics. His foreign policy has repeatedly shown little regard for Africa’s agency, focusing instead on what the continent can offer in terms of natural resources and political compliance. Contrast with Biden’s Approach The contrast with President Joe Biden’s U.S.-Africa Leaders Summit in 2022 could not be starker. Biden welcomed over 40 African heads of state and representatives from the African Union, civil society, and the private sector. His summit emphasized peer-to-peer dialogue, respect for African development agendas like the AU’s Agenda 2063, and sought genuine partnership rather than subordination. Where Biden sought engagement, Trump sought obedience. The Real Cost of Compliance Perhaps the most painful aspect of the July 9 summit was the lost opportunity. In a moment when African leaders could have asserted their nations' sovereignty, challenged Trump’s condescending tone, and defended Africa’s dignity, they instead bowed—metaphorically and literally. Their compliance secured a fragile reward: Trump promised that their nations would not face new tariffs “because they are friends of mine now.” It was a transactional victory purchased at the cost of dignity. For the African leaders present, the choice was stark: protect their economies from Trump’s wrath or risk challenging a president who thrives on punitive diplomacy. But their silence and flattery only emboldened Trump’s imperial performance. A Reminder of Unfinished Decolonization The summit’s optics were impossible to ignore: a powerful Western leader extracting loyalty and resources from compliant African heads of state. It was a modern-day colonial tableau, reminiscent of 19th-century encounters where African kings were forced to bow before European emperors. Despite decades of political independence, economic and diplomatic relations between Africa and the West often remain shaped by uneven power dynamics. President Faye’s capitulation was especially disheartening. He had risen to power as a voice for African dignity, promising to reclaim sovereignty and reject neocolonialism. Yet, in Washington, he followed the script, failing to challenge Trump’s narrative and thus betraying the ideals that brought him to power. The Illusion of Partnership In the end, Trump didn’t build bridges; he built a stage. He didn’t engage with equals; he orchestrated a performance where he alone was the master. The African leaders, by participating in this spectacle without protest, helped perpetuate the very systems of control and exploitation they once promised to dismantle. If Africa is to break free from these cycles of dominance, its leaders must resist such public humiliations and redefine engagement on their own terms. Genuine partnership cannot be built on flattery and fear; it must rest on mutual respect, shared interests, and the courage to speak truth to power. Until that happens, summits like Trump’s will remain not forums for cooperation but stages of colonial theatre—where the master still holds the script, and Africa plays a supporting role.
By Ikram Ullahabout a year ago in Confessions
I Cheated Once—and It Still Haunts Me. AI-Generated.
I’m going to tell you something I’ve never said out loud. Years ago, I cheated on my partner. Just once. It happened so quickly, so stupidly, that for a long time I convinced myself it didn’t matter. But it does. It always did.
By Aliabout a year ago in Confessions
🚪 Liminal Music: The Sound of In-Between Moments . AI-Generated.
You’ve felt it before. That strange unease in a hotel hallway at 3AM. The silence in an empty classroom after school. An airport at sunrise, where the world hasn’t fully woken up yet.
By The Yume Collectiveabout a year ago in Confessions
I Wasn’t a ‘Dog Person’ — Until I Met Milo
I used to roll my eyes at dog owners. You know the type — the ones who post ten pictures a day of their dog sleeping, who cancel plans because of “dog commitments,” who call their dogs their “babies” like it’s perfectly normal. I didn’t get it. Sure, the dogs were cute. But messy. Loud and needy. Not for me.
By Echoes of Lifeabout a year ago in Confessions
My Toxic Relationship Didn’t End in Heartbreak — It Ended in Healing
When people talk about toxic relationships, they often focus on the pain. The screaming. The manipulation. The silence that says more than words. What they rarely talk about is what comes next — the strange, beautiful, messy process of healing.
By Echoes of Lifeabout a year ago in Confessions
I Let AI Control My Life for 30 Days—And Accidentally Became a Better Human
By Day 3, I Was Meditating in a Freezer. I didn’t start this experiment hoping to find inner peace or unlock human potential. Honestly, I was just bored—and tired of making decisions. “What should I eat?” “Should I text back?” “Do I need to work out today?” These micro-decisions were frying my brain like a gas station hot dog. Enter: AI. Specifically, I decided to let ChatGPT control my life for 30 days. Every choice—what to eat, when to sleep, what to wear, even what to post on social media—would be made by an algorithm trained on more data than my brain could comprehend. The goal? To see if outsourcing my decisions to artificial intelligence would make me more productive, more relaxed, and maybe—just maybe—a better person. Week 1: Obey the Algorithm On Day 1, I asked AI to build me a daily routine. It replied, like a digital life coach: Wake at 6:00 a.m. 20-minute meditation Cold shower Green smoothie 3 hours of “deep work” (??) No phone until noon I laughed. This AI clearly doesn’t know me. But rules are rules, so I followed them. Woke up at 6, sat cross-legged on my carpet, and tried to meditate. I couldn’t concentrate because I knew a cold shower awaited me. That icy blast hit harder than any breakup I’ve ever had. I screamed. Loudly. My upstairs neighbor texted, “You okay?” By Day 3, I was meditating inside my open freezer. AI said it would “maximize focus and resilience.” I said, “Okay.” My roommate walked in, saw me cross-legged between frozen peas and Eggo waffles, and immediately closed the door. By the end of the week, something weird happened: I felt…good? Waking up early wasn’t hell anymore. I was getting work done. My skin looked clearer. I started to like the structure. Until Day 7. AI told me to eat nothing but chickpeas and kale for the day. Week 2: Existential Crisis Mode Week two began with a food plan: all meals generated by AI based on “optimal nutrient balance.” That’s how I ended up eating fermented oatmeal with chia seeds, turmeric, and frozen blueberries for breakfast. It tasted like sadness sprinkled with regret. Socially, things got weird too. I asked the AI how to “improve my social confidence.” It instructed me to start random conversations with strangers and say exactly what it told me to say. At a café, I approached a stranger and said, “If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cutecumber.” AI said it was “whimsical.” The barista said it was “harassment.” I left with my dignity shattered but my serotonin oddly stable. I was becoming a robot, but a healthier robot. Week 3: Dating by AI Then came the real test: relationships. “Should I text my ex?” I asked. “No,” the AI replied bluntly. “You already know the answer.” It was right. I hate when it’s right. I let the AI set up my dating profile, write the bio (“Empathic realist looking for depth, not drama”) and even respond to matches. One girl asked, “What are your hobbies?” and AI responded, “Enhancing cognitive function through guided breathwork.” She unmatched me in 3 minutes. But by the weekend, AI matched me with someone it called “a 91% compatibility fit.” We met. She was charming, brilliant, and… also running an AI life experiment. We bonded over beet smoothies and mutually scheduled journaling time. Are we soulmates or just two people puppeteered by the same digital overlord? Too soon to say. Week 4: Becoming Human Again By Week 4, I was leaner, more focused, and terrifyingly efficient. I was waking up before my alarm, journaling my dreams, meal-prepping like a suburban mom of four. My productivity at work doubled. I even started saying things like, “I don’t drink coffee after 2 p.m. for cortisol regulation.” I was thriving. But I was also… fading. There were no impulsive choices. No random ice cream runs or deep YouTube rabbit holes at 3 a.m. I hadn’t listened to music in two weeks because AI said lyrics “interfere with task-based cognition.” I missed myself—the chaotic, unoptimized me. So on Day 30, I rebelled. I skipped my meditation. Ate a donut for breakfast. Took a three-hour nap. Went on a spontaneous date with zero AI approval. It was messy, indulgent, and absolutely perfect. The Verdict: Would I Do It Again? Honestly? Yes. Letting AI run my life gave me structure, clarity, and a weird sense of accountability. It helped me break habits, challenge my laziness, and realize how much time I waste just deciding things. But would I live this way forever? Absolutely not. AI can give great advice. It can offer balance, logic, and routine. But life needs surprise. Mess. Passion. Art. Love. And those things can’t be optimized—they just have to be lived. So now, I let AI guide some of my choices—but not all. I ask it for recipes, workout tips, sometimes even advice on what to say in tough situations. But when it comes to joy, chaos, and love—I’m taking the wheel. And no offense, ChatGPT, but next time I meditate, I’m staying out of the freezer.
By Asim Aliabout a year ago in Confessions
