Memoir

The Burden of Love
7:00 a.m. I rose drearily from the loveseat parked in front of our heavy beige drapes that still hung with hooks-which no one from my generation likely knew how to use because curtains should just slide onto rods. I stretched my arms upward both grateful to have a job to rush to and lamenting the fact that I’m made to work from such a state of exhaustion. Granny is still asleep so I rouse her with a gentle shake. She’s neatly nestled under my favorite pink fleece blanket, the one that traveled with me from Brooklyn to Vassar then back to Brooklyn, and then from Brooklyn to Boston College Law School and back again. The gray paisley print bandana that she ties over her hair and knots on her forehead, is slightly raised like a crown and half on her head, halfway resting on her pillow. She wants me to leave her alone but she knows the routine-wake up, morning bird bath, change her diaper, fresh clothing, breakfast, and medication before I leave for work.
By Lori B.2 years ago in Chapters
Night of the Langum
Night of the Langum I sat in my bed, staring at the TV with my hand clamped over my mouth. My God, I thought. He dies. The kid dies. I reached for the emergency vomit bowl we keep on my nightstand for the kids and held it in front of me. It had been about thirty years since I’d last watched Radio Flyer, the early nineties movie my brothers and sister and I had based our childhood on. It’s a story about two young brothers who create a sort of fantasy world as a way to escape the cruel abuse of their stepfather. I think I was in fourth grade when we watched it, which would mean my sister was in second. We watched it a lot, my brothers and sister and I. Mom gets borderline hysterical if we mention this to her now. She says she’s not sure what she was thinking, letting us watch that show.
By CJ 2 years ago in Chapters
SingleMomChronicles
I am now going into the later part of my twenties. I have a little girl that I have been raising alone. Her father blamed me for the dissolution of our relationship. It had nothing to do with his excessive drinking. It had nothing to do with his infidelity. It had nothing to do with him staying out all night or sometimes being gone for days at a time. I was supposed to just stick it out and let him get it all out of his system and wait for him to be ready to settle down. I'm sure he would've settled down eventually, right? Seriously, what in the world? Who the heck is doing that?
By Latoya Giles 2 years ago in Chapters
Purgatory vol 3
Once again, it's time for me to expose my wounds to the world. A necessity driven not so much by hunger, but by an internal command, a call to benefit those who might stumble upon this place by chance or have been my readers throughout these last three years of Journey. Yes, almost precisely three years have passed since that day when I began to remember who I am, and that there's a man in my life with whom I almost, nearly, intertwined three decades ago. And now it has become apparent that everything he spoke of back then has turned into truth today (well, not everything, some parts are still unfolding).
By Elle Vihman2 years ago in Chapters
Purgatory vol 4
Purification Fire, Volume 4 Once again, the purification fire. At least it seems that another dip in the trampoline's lower position has arrived. Perhaps I'm inching slightly upwards this time, as I can analyze my situation a bit.
By Elle Vihman2 years ago in Chapters
"Fly Gently, My Golden Dragon, My Beloved Soul!"
"Softly whispers my Golden Dragon, a legend woven in time's embrace, Its wings unfurl, a tale of old, a mythic dance in twilight's grace. Majestic creature, scales agleam, a guardian of secrets untold, Eyes that hold the wisdom of stars, a bond of tales from days of old. Oh, hear its voice, a gentle breeze, carrying echoes of ages past, Through whispers of forgotten lands, where fantasy and reality contrast. In realms where heroes rise and fall, and destinies are written in the sky, The Golden Dragon soars aloft, its presence an enchanting lullaby. With every beat of its mighty heart, the world's magic comes alive, A symphony of hopes and dreams, through which our spirits strive. "Fly softly my Golden Dragon," the wind carries this sacred call, A call to adventure, to believe, as twilight's curtain starts to fall. So heed the tale, dear kindred souls, let your imagination take flight, For within the heart of fantasy, lies a realm of endless light." ~Poetic AI
By Elle Vihman2 years ago in Chapters
Wholeness, Love, and Inner Fulfillment
"In a world filled with complexities and constant pursuits, it's in embracing our own wholeness that we find true solace. Love, that divine force that transcends boundaries, threads through our lives, binding us to each other and the universe. And within this beautiful tapestry of existence, the journey to inner fulfillment awaits, a journey of self-discovery and profound connection. Let us explore the realms of wholeness, love, and inner fulfillment—wherein lies the essence of a life lived with purpose and grace" . ~AI
By Elle Vihman2 years ago in Chapters
The scream of the soul
It seems that the time has come to reveal my own journey. A journey I've been on for a little over three years now. My Twin Flame Journey. A journey towards Self, a journey to understanding one's own Being and diving into the depths of the soul mission. A journey into remembering and practicing Unconditional Love. A journey that, in short, has been like a journey through Hell, fighting my way out with gritted teeth. The only support being the absurd understanding that this is a journey of healing. And so, three times in a row.
By Elle Vihman2 years ago in Chapters
Year five - melancholy
When I felt particularly sad, which in those days was often, I would fantasise about breaking up with M. Depending on the specific flavor of melancholy accompaning me at any given moment, these imaginings would vary in style in content, but they always had an air of inevitablity and irreversibility that seemed to choke me whenever I thought of him.
By Tess V. Flaire2 years ago in Chapters
Me and Natasha: Excerpt
Context: My ass was named Natasha by a childhood friend of mine because it is so big it was its own person. Assess are useful, so I will never call anyone who made me feel like shit as a teenager an ass. I will, however, call them everything else. Natasha was not the only part of my body that attracted attention, but she was the star of the show. Frankly, even I was just supporting cast, especially to teenage boys and men.
By C.M. Vazquez2 years ago in Chapters
The Hardest Chapter of My Life
There it was, what felt like the end of an era for me, but it was simply one chapter finishing. In a short four years I had been shaped into a man and hardened and haunted by war. What I thought would be a lifelong career ended with more pain and bitterness than I knew how to handle. I had chosen to finish out my military contract and go my separate way. Always holding on to the dream of going to college and becoming an archaeologist, but I was unprepared for the next chapter of my life.
By Matthew Mccahey2 years ago in Chapters
Blame is funny, isn't it?
When I was 15, all of that changed. I was in my room, watching smosh videos on my phone. Laughing away when I heard a crash. This, as we know, is not unusual in my house. I thought nothing of it. I decided that day I didn't wish to be screamed at for soemthing out of my control.
By Francis2 years ago in Chapters