Friendship
Word of the Day: 電波
I don't think I can afford to write right now but I feel like, since I am not taking medication and also self medicating with weed, I need to take journaling seriously as a form of therapy. Since I am feeling very odd, even if it isn't "dangerous" I still feel I need to treat it as if I was in a full blown bad mood right now. I am not sure what I am upset about, I guess because everything feels pointless and I am not sure what I am going to do in my future. I mean that is something to complain about for now to take me out of the moment, but I really don't know what is going on. I am really thinking the celestial placements are causing this turbulence. My only solution though is to just ignore it until tomorrow, which... I mean, I have no better option in front of me at the moment.
By Kayla McIntosh4 months ago in Confessions
what i'll never get to say. Top Story - October 2025.
i never exaggerated. i have trauma about telling my truth and being called a liar so we're gonna start here. every. single. thing. i told you happened, happened. some happened this year, last year, earlier. i told you that, too. but it all happened the way i said it did.
By Maia Gadwall the metAlchemist4 months ago in Confessions
Your Future Self is Watching
When sitting in a quiet setting like at home when the lights go off, or in an office where I have to wait for a long while, or simply on a long trip when the noise settles in the bus. I often reflect on how I got this far. The decisions which led me here, the fortunate and unfortunate events which shaped this moment, and how all this could have been different if certain things didn’t happen. I also imagine how different my life would have been if I had made some other choices. For better or worse, I’ll never really know how things could have turned out. All I can do is assume they turned out for the best.
By real Jema4 months ago in Confessions
POV: I WISH I NEVER SAID YES
Chapter 1: Tuesday, 6:00 AM I woke up to my alarm screaming like it hated me. 6:00 AM. Another Tuesday. I groaned, rolled over, and slapped it silent. My mouth was dry. My brain foggy. I sat up and muttered, “Why do I do this to myself?”
By Roman B Jr.4 months ago in Confessions
The Two Breads That Saved a Soul
The Bread of Faith: The Story of Abu Nasr Al-Iyad BY ubaid Once upon a time, there lived a man named Abu Nasr Al-Iyad. He was a poor man who struggled each day to provide for his wife and two young children. Poverty had wrapped its chains around him so tightly that hope seemed to fade with every passing day.
By Ubaid 4 months ago in Confessions
When the Mirror Learns to Speak.
When you’re little and start showing signs of adolescence, it’s both a shy and awakening stage. You don’t quite know who you’re becoming yet — you’re caught between childhood and womanhood, between wanting to be invisible and wanting to be understood. If you have a caring family, that transition feels easier, almost gentle. They guide you through it without judgement. But when your family is the type that points and questions, conforming becomes a way of survival.
By Gladys Kay Sidorenko4 months ago in Confessions
The Weight of Labels
I did not get angry because I was attacked. I got angry because I felt invisible. That is what labeling does. It reduces a human being—a soul with thoughts, experiences, and convictions—into a set of categories that can be dismissed before they even speak.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 months ago in Confessions
The Last Letter
Rain tapped gently against the cracked window as Evelyn sat at her old wooden desk, staring at the faded envelope in her trembling hands. Her name was written in a familiar handwriting—looped, elegant, and painfully recognizable. She hadn’t seen it in fifteen years, not since the day Daniel left.
By Waqas Ahmad4 months ago in Confessions
The Symphony of Us
My world had become a museum of quiet. Each room in my apartment was a carefully curated exhibit of a life I no longer lived. The grand piano in the corner was the centerpiece, a silent, polished beast under a sheet of dust and regret. I hadn't touched the keys since the accident. The music, once the very blood in my veins, had drained out of me, leaving behind a hollow shell named Elara.
By noor ul amin4 months ago in Confessions
