Dating
Seven Days of Madness. Content Warning.
Before you read through my recollection of transpired events, I should make a few things clear: I am writing this blurb almost a decade after I graduated college but the day-by-day parts were all written a week or so after they transpired. I left out a few key details to perserve anonymity (my friends' real names, places, locations, etc.)
By ARGabout a month ago in Confessions
The Forty Rules of Love
The Forty Rules of Love is a famous novel written by Elif Shafak. This book is loved by readers all around the world because it talks about love in a deep but simple way. It is not only a romantic story. It is also a spiritual journey, a story about self-discovery, faith, and transformation. Many people feel emotionally connected to this book because its message is gentle, honest, and meaningful.
By John Smithabout a month ago in Confessions
Word of the Day: 梨
I feel Yuuichirou for some reason, I don't need to talk to him though, it is probably because of the nerves. Ah yea, he was so stressed I think, he went rabid. Just flashback to memories, you know? I allow myself to process them here but, it is weird because processing them with Jahon, I can say them out loud, but the way he is perceiving everything is like that one tortured ghost on the subway from the movie Ghost.
By Kayla McIntoshabout a month ago in Confessions
Relationship
A relationship is a connection between two people that is built on love, trust, and understanding. It is not only about happy moments but also about standing together during difficult times. A strong relationship helps people grow emotionally and feel supported in life.
By shaoor afridiabout a month ago in Confessions
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
Who a person is to begin with
I recently entered into an argument with a long time friend, we argued about politics and on our point of view when it came to global politics happening right now in the world, I’ll spare you the details, the main point was I disagreed with how it was being done meanwhile he agreed.
By real Jemaabout a month ago in Confessions
The Quiet Power of Presence: Trust, Desire, and the Weight of Being
I can still feel the chill of that evening, the way it made my skin keenly aware of itself. I leaned against the balcony railing of a small apartment, watching the streetlights flicker below, glowing softly through the dimming dusk. He was there, a few steps away, his gaze on the streets as if he could read the rhythm of life beneath him. There was nothing performative in his posture, no dramatic gesture to draw attention. Yet the way he existed in that space—calm, grounded, and unassuming—pulled me in. I became painfully aware of how his presence shaped the air around him, shaping me in subtle, unnameable ways.
By SATPOWERabout a month ago in Confessions
The Weight of the Falling Quiet
The streetlights outside Elias’s window were just dim blurs now, swallowed by the relentless descent. Big, fat flakes, not the tiny stinging kind, but soft, almost lazy, piling up fast. They coated everything, smoothed out the sharp edges of the world. Power lines, fences, the gnarled branches of the old oak in his yard — all turned into soft, white ridges. The quiet. God, the quiet. That was the worst part, always.
By HAADI2 months ago in Confessions
