Childhood

The Weight of the Falling Snow
The clock read 2:17 AM. Not that it mattered. Time had stopped for Arthur hours ago, stuck in a thick, silent amber. He stood by the living room window, a mug of cold coffee forgotten on the sill, watching the snow fall. Big, heavy flakes, like torn bits of cotton, drifting down in an impossible hush. They piled on the branches of the ancient oak outside, mounding on the fence line, swallowing the porch swing whole. Everything disappeared under it, erased. The world outside his window was a clean, white lie.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
The Glimmering Lie
It's been three years since Sarah left, and still, this room, this goddamn room, it’s a mausoleum. Not for her, not really. For me. For the hollowed-out thing I became. The air here, it’s thin, sharp, like breathing pulverized ice. And in the center, catching whatever anemic light filters through the drawn blinds, is my confession. My garden of crystal flowers.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
USA, Israel, and Iran-What’s Really Happening
Tensions in the Middle East: USA, Israel, and Iran — What’s Really Happening In the past few days, international attention has focused on a high-profile meeting between Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former U.S. President Donald Trump at Trump’s private estate in Florida. The talks were not about routine diplomacy — they centered on growing concerns over Iran’s ballistic missile and nuclear programs and how the United States and Israel might respond.
By Wings of Time about a month ago in Confessions
The Weight of Glass
It started, as these things always do, with a glint. Just a flicker on the sonar, a signature that didn't make sense, too geometric for a natural formation, too sharp for a wreck. Two hundred fathoms down, off a forgotten trench in the Pacific Rim. My old man, God rest his soul, he always said the ocean gives you nothing for free. He was right. It gives you things, alright, but you pay for them, a slow, agonizing interest on your soul.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
The Weight of Unsaid Things
Arthur’s kitchen counter was a graveyard of crumpled paper. Empty coffee mugs, a half-eaten sandwich from lunch, and the amber glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the window were his companions. It was three in the morning again. He held the pen, a cheap ballpoint, its plastic worn smooth from endless nights like these, and stared at the blank page. The fresh sheet mocked him, always did. He’d scribbled the first line a dozen times: 'Clara, I need to tell you…' and then his hand would cramp, his mind would seize, and the whole thing would get wadded up and flung into the overflowing bin by the sink.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
The Last Train to Nowhere
It’s not the rattling, metallic grind of the wheels that wakes me up these nights, not anymore. It’s the silence. That particular kind of dead quiet you only get after the last carriage has rumbled out of sight, leaving you standing on a platform that feels suddenly too big, too empty. And then the cold seeps into your bones, deeper than any winter wind. That’s what I hear.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
The Iron Confession
The rhythm of the rails. That's what gets you. Not the click-clack, not even the grinding steel, but the steady, relentless push forward. Each jolt a small, sharp reminder that you’re moving, that you chose this, that there's no going back. The car was empty. Practically empty. Just me, hunched over a window streaked with rain and grime, and some old man snoring two rows back, his face hidden by a newspaper from yesterday. Or maybe the day before. Doesn't matter. He wasn't looking at me. Nobody was.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
The Ghost on the Floorboards
The house breathes around me. It’s an old house, full of settling groans and the low hum of the refrigerator. Two in the morning, another Tuesday, another bottle of cheap whiskey working its way through my bloodstream. The wife's asleep upstairs, snoring softly, a familiar, comforting sound, if you don’t think about it too hard. The kids, grown now, gone. Just me, the bottle, and the goddamn moonlight pouring in through the living room window, painting stripes across the hardwood.
By HAADI2 months ago in Confessions
THE NATURE OF ABANDONMENT
On the first week of December, I attended a conference where I sat on an academic panel with leading medical experts, and leaders within the empowerment realm, who extensively study, research, and examine the complex abnormal nature of abandonment. Within my lecture, I candidly spoke about the role that acute exposure to abandonment manifests on a survivor, from my personal unfiltered lived truth, perspective, and lived experience. I would like to share my direct lived experience to help heal the soul’s of others who have experienced the pain of loss, deprivation, negligence, and powerlessness. I can only represent the view of having lost both biological parents, not through death, but through their conscious will of abandoning me collectively, at the age of six months. My status as an orphan resulted from abandonment, which became a defining moment that shaped my understanding of trauma, loss, and the recovery process. Within my work, I advocate for personal empowerment and emancipation from destruction, by moving beyond narrative truths imposed by others. One must define their life on their own terms rather than remaining subjected to injustice, intolerance, or the act of dismantling one’s core foundational truths or identity. Within the state of abandonment one must rise beyond the state of permanent victimhood, and transformatively view it as a catalyst for one’s spiritual mission, growth, and purpose. Deprivation is a destructive act, however, it ultimately provides one with the profound understanding of the recovery process. One is not defined by their circumstances or past traumatic events. I often advocate for emancipation from others’ narratives, which astutely and fundamentally instructs and teaches all that one’s worth and value are not diminished by the act of alienation, isolation, abandonment, or severe forms of neglectful punishment. My divine purpose results from my direct experience with abandonment, as I help others rebuild after devastating life events. The internal pain one encounters, confronts, or introspectively examines within, is an instrumental teacher that fosters continued introspective wisdom, perseverance, resilience, and strength. Despite the act of becoming an orphan, I would like to express my deepest gratitude for being raised by my paternal Aunt and Grandmother, who provided me empathetic compassionate unconditional love and stability that I internally needed to overcome my traumatic start. My philosophical approach is based on proactive resilience, as one must consciously choose a better path rather than stagnating in loss, despair, and grief. If one lacks stability, they have the power to create it for themselves, as we become what we lack. Within my practice, I advocate for peace, empowerment, and personal emancipation which is rooted in the belief that individuals must transcend the narratives or confines of their past and external perceptions to reclaim their inner power, peace, and sovereignty. The negative narrative truths or conceptions imposed by another or others, are merely internal dialogues of those individuals, and do not reflect one’s actual worth or value. One is not born from sin, and within life, is deserving of unconditional love, support, and compassionate care. The core principles of my emancipation philosophy honours the role and the act of transcending the past. Survivors must not give power to the historical lessons of abandonment, injustice, or betrayal. Instead, once an individual ignites inner hope and ambition, they become unstoppable and unconstrained by their past narratives. One must define their internal truth and not allow another to define their existence. An individual’s worth is not diminished by the acts of others, or by catastrophic events that might destroy one’s foundational sense of self. Personal truth is something that must be awakened from within, rather than sought through external confirmation. Emancipation, liberty, and freedom are achieved through the act of release. Salvation is achieved and derived from forgiveness. By letting go of what can no longer be controlled, one can then acutely achieve a state of autonomous sovereignty and internal peace. I am not ashamed of my past, as its act of turbulence and turmoil enabled my soul to restore its fragments within time. Through the process of destruction, one is reawakened to their purpose. One must move beyond the ingrained misguided direction from society, such as the ideological construct that a fragmented soul is broken beyond repair, and cease to subscribe to the narrative or belief, that one will forever remain within a state of sacrifice, powerlessness, loss, or constant fear. One must view their scars as opportunities for growth, expansion, and light. As one honours their light within, they achieve self-mastery over the force of reaction. My methodology involves shifting from a reactive state which is primarily driven by the ego and past programs to a conscious ascended state of choice, where individuals take full accountability and responsibility for their own emotional existence. Abandonment, while initially destructive to one’s foundational sense of self, acts as a catalyst which enables one to achieve profound internal peace and self-respect through the pursuit of autonomous sovereignty and emancipation. One must achieve peace through transformative transcendence. Abandonment forces one to understand the nature of negligence, deprivation, by examining the force of control and destruction. One has to question, what does freedom mean to them? How does respect unfold within the state of freedom? One cannot truly comprehend peace without first understanding the terrors of great destruction and devastation. Abandonment provides this stark contrast, allowing an individual to eventually recognize peace as their natural state once they choose to disconnect from destruction. Forgiveness is a source of liberation. Internal peace is attained through forgiveness, which is a conscious level decision to stop giving power to the lessons of abandonment. This forgiveness affords the survivor liberation and autonomous sovereignty. One must understand the nature of release and control. Letting go of the need to control the past or disabling the need to absorb others’ perceptions enables the restoration of peace within. By dropping negative emotions and lifting the cataracts off of the mind, individuals then allow life to unfold naturally, which restores their inner balance and peace. Reclaiming self-respect and freedom enables a survivor to experience and attain peace and sovereign will through the establishment of boundaries, rising from their embedded scars, recognition of their self-worth, and emancipation from the narratives which confined their existence. Projections are not ultimate truths, therefore, one must restore their sense of self beyond the actions of another. Recognition of worth is achieved through self-love, self-acceptance, and self-respect. Self-respect grows from the realization that one’s life is inherently valuable and worthy despite the experience of being left behind. This inner work creates a foundation for self-love that is not contingent on external validation. Emancipation from narratives eclipses the power of conditioning programs, repetitive approaches, internal perceptions, presumptions, and projections of misconceptions, falsifications, or illusions. Freedom is achieved by moving beyond the narrative of the past and identifies the influence from external sources such as the negative dialogues of others. Survivors must separate from those who hinder their recovery to maintain their empowered state of happiness. One must seek to preserve and protect their inner peace. Establishing boundaries is the ultimate form of self-respect. Self-respect is reinforced by evoking discernment and boundaries, defining exactly what one will no longer partake in, while remaining in their true power of the present. Rising from one’s embedded scars enables recovery, expansiveness, and enlightenment. Rather than seeing abandonment as a flaw, one must view their scars as tiger stripes. Our soul core wounds, sacred core roots, and embedded scars, all provide an opportunity to allow light to enter within and grants the opportunity for the true authentic self to rise again. With forgiveness and compassion, I have reached a place of peace regarding my biological parents. It is my greatest hope that their lives are filled with love and joy, as their only mission was to bring me into this world, and their conscious decision to leave, was part of their own path and trajectory. Although my story is one of many, as abandonment, deprivation, neglect, and abuse are universal, my soul needs to bring awareness to these internal truths, as abandonment has become one of the leading epidemics of our time which instills mistrust, a sense of powerlessness, and internal fear within its victims.
By ELISABETH BABARCI 2 months ago in Confessions
World War 3: Why the Fear Is Growing, Why the Future Is Not Decided
World War 3: Why the Fear Is Growing—and Why the Future Is Not Decided In recent years, the phrase “World War 3” has moved from history books into daily conversation. It appears in news headlines, political speeches, social media debates, and comment sections across the internet. For many people, it represents a growing fear that the world is drifting toward another global catastrophe. But fear alone does not explain why this idea has become so powerful—or why it demands careful discussion rather than panic.
By Wings of Time 2 months ago in Confessions
The Last Train to Nowhere
The rain lashed against the window, thick sheets of it blurring the already featureless landscape. Black. Just black. The old train rattled, a constant, low growl that vibrated through my bones, through the cheap fabric of the seat. Empty car. Just me and the rhythmic squeal of the wheels on wet tracks. An easy escape. That’s what I told myself. A clean break. But my hands, they wouldn’t stop shaking. Not even a little. Clenched tight, white knuckles, like they were trying to hold onto something that was already gone.
By HAADI2 months ago in Confessions
the reality of true love . Content Warning.
I cried. I cried for you, for us.you were my first love, my last love, and everything in between. No one could be as good as you.Why must you leave me? because i deserve the pain, the suffering? did you really have to leave?..The scars on my heart show on my wrists as much as my tears do on my soul. Was this all worth it? the short term bitter-sweetness this "safe place" all for what? To know if this feeling exists? The gut retching feeling of getting your heart ripped out of your chest by the one you love the most? Because its real I've felt it. this pain, The pain that hits you so hard reality doesn't even feel real. It feels like swallowing a bomb and then just waiting. Waiting for your own self destruct..your own doom. This feeling is love, yes love, yes it exists, true love. Love hits hard love is the thing that hold you back from saying every word inside you, it changes you fully for better or worse. But love also saves you a little from yourself, from your own relief, from your own past but it mostly saves you from reality because love is nothing but an illusion until you experience it that is and that only happens once. You cant truly love twice because the first time you do, there's nothing else in the whole universe like it. you cant see yourself the same way, you cant love like that again because people only have one heart and once you give your heart to someone you cant get it back the same its damaged, broken, shattered even you cant trust someone with it again like you did the first time so when your time comes to love, to cherish.. hold onto to that string that attaches you to your person hold onto it.. hold on no matter what, hold on until the string cuts and burns your hands, hold this string with all god has given you until it breaks don't let go because you'll never get another string after all- this string, this love.. is all an illusion of the mind. When I think about love i think about breathing. Some times it comes easy how it flows through you chest but other times you can barely take a breath without it hurting, that's how love is though true love is never easy, its hard to love but in reality love is so very important it holds us together as a society, its like a rock it stays together, it has a bond. But sometimes that rock can break.. and when it breaks it doesn't break into just two pieces. No. its a million pieces like the heart after love is taken away.
By Anonymous_poet132 months ago in Confessions