Humanity
Favourites & Scapegoats
I always thought I was hollow. Like the chair in the photo. Too broken at the beginning of the journey and too battered to put in the effort commensurate with the goals. That's why I always read everything I could get my hands on. To fill this sad void that I have carried through my life since birth. And then something happened. I left my country of origin.
By Sun Bee3 years ago in Confessions
Third Grade
I have felt like a bit of an outsider most of my life. That is something I haven't openly admitted before, because as a general rule, I never felt that being an outsider was a bad thing. My beliefs, interests, background, genetics, even my flaws set me apart from my peers, but they aren't things to be ashamed of. (Well, maybe some of my flaws.) They are part of my identity, who I am as a person.
By Alexandria Stanwyck3 years ago in Confessions
Scars of Resilience. Content Warning.
The first assault was a whisper. Not a literal one, but the insidious kind. It came from the corner of the playground, from the mouth of a boy with eyes like chips of ice. "You're not like the other girls," he hissed, his words dripping with malice. "You're different."
By Rupankar Nandi3 years ago in Confessions
Shattered. Content Warning.
I love watching movies and reading books as a way to grasp the world and how I belong in it. In the movie-Batman Begins-Young Bruce Wayne is asked why he falls as to which his dad replies-to get back up. I feel this concept has reigned with me the most. The lessons and trauma of my childhood remain embedded in my mind and often I sit for hours reflecting on them. To date I am almost 40 and yet still recall hearing certain phrases that would be repeated over and over throughout my life that I first heard at age 4.
By Sid Aaron Hirji3 years ago in Confessions
Winged Victory. Top Story - December 2023.
I'll confess, I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to participate in this Challenge. I'm not much of a sharer of the deep, personal parts of myself. At least, not on the internet, where your digital footprint will follow you even after death. (Morbid, sorry, hang in there)
By B3 years ago in Confessions
The Death of Burlesque
Burlesque’s Tragic Demise In January of 1974, I left my college dorm for the last time and headed for the big city of Rochester, New York to begin my new career. All it took for me to toss my graduation cap into the air and don a sequined G-String was the opportunity to dance my heart out every night and get paid for it. After having danced on Broadway in my mind since I turned five, that was a dream come true.
By Tina D'Angelo3 years ago in Confessions
Is Jesus coming to Gaza?
In the heart of Gaza, a land shrouded in the darkness of conflict, a mysterious and profound tale unfolds—a tale of divine power and love that transcends the brutalities of war. As the world witnesses the relentless suffering of the region's population, an unexpected and miraculous occurrence has emerged, leaving in its wake a trail of transformed lives.
By Eivind Flottorp3 years ago in Confessions
Parallel Realities Collision
In the peaceful town of Evercrest, where reality's limits appeared to be permanently established, an uncommon peculiarity started to unfurl. Unbeknownst to the occupants, two equal universes were plunging towards one another, taking steps to impact and break the actual texture of their reality.
By JAMAL EZZ3 years ago in Confessions
Whispers of Betrayals
In the busy heart of a lively town, James and Jane led a seemingly content life. Their love was the envy of many, a narrative of shared dreams and intertwined hearts. The streets they strolled and the cafes they frequented held the echoes of laughter and whispered promises. Yet, like shadows cast under a luminous moon, darker forces were destined to weave their way into their idyllic existence.
By John Kwasi3 years ago in Confessions
Interview With The Men In The Mirrors
Thoughts spun, just out of reach. A kaleidoscope of colours and sounds and feelings, drifting, swirling. One comes tantalizingly close, an idea just centimeters away from real, words and dialogue. The unformed story drifts closer, and just as I stretch for, reach towards that shining, golden thought, it vanished. Lost in the maelstrom of memory and questions that tore through my mind.
By Alexander McEvoy3 years ago in Confessions
