Stream of Consciousness

Two strangers seated side-by-side on a long overnight train ride. Content Warning.
The notebook feels cheap under my fingers, the cardboard cover flimsy. This pen is already starting to skip. But it’s midnight, and the train is a dark serpent sliding through the sleeping countryside, and I can’t sleep. The hum is in my bones. That low, metallic thrumming that feels like being inside a giant, moving creature. It’s the sound of distance being eaten. The sound of leaving.
By Chahatabout a year ago in Confessions
Behind the Curtain: The Real Story of the Pakistan–Saudi Deal”
The recent Pakistan Saudi defense agreement has been hailed in official statements as a symbol of “brotherhood” and “mutual protection.” But a closer look reveals a different story one that raises troubling questions about Pakistan’s sovereignty, regional stability, and future
By Izhar Ullahabout a year ago in Confessions
Shark Dive at Beqa Lagoon
I was a novice diver. I had fewer than ten dives under my belt when I found myself on holiday in Fiji. I was eager to do some diving. The resort I stayed at recommended an exciting adventure. They suggested the "Shark Dive at Beqa Lagoon."
By Calvin Londonabout a year ago in Confessions
The Things We Do in the Dark. Content Warning.
October 12th I saw him again today. It’s stupid, really. The way my body reacts. A full-system reboot from a thirty-second interaction in a coffee line. It’s not even about the words. It’s about the space between them.
By Chahatabout a year ago in Confessions
The Date
Passing the time, looking around and looking for a soul to accompany to follow, she continues to walk towards the dark small alley. So many feelings to hold, to resist, to procrastinate so no one will know how she feels. She continued to look, to see if she could find the smell, the shadow left by that man.
By Lasha Deselaabout a year ago in Confessions
Secret Letter. Content Warning.
The yank came without warning—sudden, forceful, pulling me from the safety of my chair like invisible hands had decided my time of rest was over. My body lurched forward, the familiar world tilting sideways as I stumbled, caught off guard by the violence of the movement. Something had shifted, though I couldn't name what. The air felt different, charged with an electricity that made my skin prickle.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Confessions
Unsent, Unforgotten
We all have sentences inside us that were never spoken. Words that sat at the edge of our lips, waiting for courage, waiting for the right time—a time that never came. For me, those words weren’t just sentences. They were an entire letter.
By Shehzad Anjumabout a year ago in Confessions
Secret Letter. Content Warning.
The fluorescent lights are too bright and they're humming secrets I can't quite catch. My feet are moving before my brain catches up—through the automatic doors, past the reception desk where the woman is staring (she knows something), into the parking lot where the air tastes like metal and fear.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Confessions
The Lake at Twilight
You look out over the reflection of the sun, through the still waters of the lake, as the sun sets behind the gentle darkening mountains. The sky recedes from yellow to orange, to red, before hinting a shade of violet and blue. The clouds once gentle shades of off-white are now turning into darker shades of gray.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Confessions
We are momentum. We live in momentum. We create momentum.
I reached out and I told her “Do you love me a lot?” Then she said, “I have to work, I’ll love you later”. Nonetheless, it made me realize how many times I have “postponed” and “planned” my joys and thrills. Like they were supposed to be on schedule and how much room I have created for stagnancy of true FLOW of life and energy. No wonder I got so deep into fear, anxiety and so much more of this spectrum. I got what I prioritized, and I was what I prioritized to the outer world, because in the sanctuary of my own space, I could “slightly” explore more, “safely”, what I could`ve been or what I truly deeply AM.
By Cristina Pomanaabout a year ago in Confessions
The New Time
Introduction This is a five year old post from my Seven Days In blog with my thoughts on getting older and why time might seem to go much faster, also with a couple of books that you might like to sample, which also touch on the nature of time.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Confessions
Spicy Burrito Bowl
On paper, it was nothing unusual: an al pastor burrito bowl, warm with roasted pork, peppers, rice, and spice. But in the moment, it became something far more than dinner. It became a mirror. A container for the feelings I hadn’t yet named and the questions I was almost afraid to ask.
By The Kind Quillabout a year ago in Confessions