fact or fiction
Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores relationship myths and truths to get your head out of the clouds and back into romantic reality.
(1) Seeing the System Clearly
- The Shared Feeling No One Can Quite Explain - Most people do not need to be convinced that something is wrong. They feel it in rising costs that never seem to stabilize, in rules that change without explanation, in institutions that demand compliance but no longer command trust, and in a political process that feels permanently hostile yet strangely ineffective. These experiences are not isolated. They are widespread, persistent, and remarkably consistent across demographics, ideologies, and personal circumstances. What differs is not the feeling, but the explanation people are given for it.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast19 days ago in Humans
(0) Prologue: Before You Read
This series is written for readers who sense that something in the structure of modern life no longer works the way it once did, but who have found most available explanations unsatisfying. It assumes the reader is capable of sustained attention and willing to engage with complexity without demanding immediate resolution. It does not assume political alignment, ideological agreement, or shared conclusions. What it does assume is a willingness to slow down long enough for clarity to emerge.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast19 days ago in Humans
Modern world is just a joke
Artificial food, chemical substances in tools, virtual currency……… As you can see, the thing i listed above are all fake. So what actually is real in modern? And as the barrier between “real” stuff and “fake” stuff gets more and more blurry, what can we do? should be just give up and resign by accepting the fake stuff, or are there any alternative ways to solve this modern madness? So pause for a while and think.
By Curtis Wong19 days ago in Humans
The Line We Were Never Meant to Cross — Epilogue
Three years later, the darkness hadn’t left him. It had learned restraint. Aarav stood by the window as rain slid down the glass, slow and deliberate. The city below pulsed with life—unaware of the things we’d survived inside these walls. He still watched storms like they might accuse him of something. “You’re spiraling,” I said from the bed. He didn’t turn. “I’m remembering.” I rose and crossed the room, stopping behind him. I didn’t touch him immediately. That mattered. It always had. “I remember too,” I said quietly. “And I stayed.” His breath hitched. Just slightly. The old Aarav would have taken my words as permission. As ownership. This one didn’t move until I rested my hand against his back—my choice. Only then did he turn. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked. “The way it was? When I wanted you too much?” I didn’t pretend not to understand. “Sometimes,” I admitted. “It scared me. And it thrilled me.” His jaw tightened. “But I love this more,” I continued. “Because now, when you touch me, it’s because I let you.” His hands came to my waist—slow, reverent, still dangerous in their promise. The darkness was there. It always would be. But now it waited for consent. “You still undo me,” he said. “I just know when to stop.” I smiled faintly. “And I know when not to ask you to.” We lived in that balance—control and surrender woven together so tightly they were indistinguishable. Our love was not loud. It was private. Intense in ways that never needed witnesses. He never claimed me again. He chose me. And I chose him back, knowing exactly what he was capable of—because I’d seen it, survived it, and stayed anyway. The ring on my finger was simple. But the meaning behind it was anything but. It wasn’t a promise of safety. It was a promise of awareness. “I still want you like I shouldn’t,” he murmured one night, lips against my throat. “I just don’t let it own me.” I tilted my head, granting him access I trusted him not to abuse. “I want to be wanted,” I whispered. “Not trapped.” His mouth curved against my skin. “Then we understand each other.” Our love was never pure. It was conscious. We kept the darkness—not as a weapon, not as a cage—but as a reminder of how easily love can turn cruel when it forgets choice. Some nights, when the rain was heavy and the world felt too quiet, he held me like he used to—tight, almost desperate—but never past the line we drew together. And when he asked, “Still here?” I always answered, “Yes.” Because this time, staying was my decision. And his restraint— —that was his redemption.
By Rosalina Jane19 days ago in Humans
Stranded in the Sky: The Unbreakable Spirit of the Andes Survivors
Imagine this: You're flipping through a dusty old album on a quiet Sunday, the kind where the house is too still and your mind wanders. Suddenly, a photo hits you like a punch. A bunch of young guys, bundled in whatever rags they've got, standing in blinding snow, arms slung around each other, smiling like they've just scored the winning try. But right in the middle of the frame-there's a human spine. Clean. White. Stark against the whiteout. Your stomach drops. These aren't props. These are the remains of their friends. And those smiles? They're not fake. They're the smiles of people who've stared death down and somehow kept breathing.
By KWAO LEARNER WINFRED20 days ago in Humans
The Minority
When the topic of immigration is mentioned here in the United Kingdom, I throw a diamond spanner in the conversation. The most influential being of all time who shapes the lives of billions of individuals was a refugee, facing the very same struggles in an attempt to seek belonging, peace and acceptance in a land of unfamiliarity and hostility.
By Malachai Hough20 days ago in Humans
The Dangers of Not Having Your Coffee
5:30 a.m. and my husband coos at me asking if I am awake. I am now, but barely. He tells me he is off to work, checked the fire downstairs, and that is will be fine until I wake up (until 7:30 a.m.). Cool. I set my alarm for 7:30 and head back into some delicious dream, I can’t remember anymore. No I would not tell you, even if I could remember the dream)
By Alexandra Grant21 days ago in Humans
The Power of Tears
The three of them were sitting in a park, staring at the money placed before them. The amount taken from the stolen wallet consisted of three hundred-rupee notes, one fifty-rupee note, and one ten-rupee note—making a total of three hundred and sixty rupees. Seeing such a small amount filled all three with disappointment.
By Sudais Zakwan21 days ago in Humans
The Line We Were Never Meant to Cross — Part 2
I shouldn’t have gone back. I knew better. Every nerve screamed, run. But there was something about Aarav that made logic dissolve like sugar in rain. A week passed since that night. A week of sleepless hours, of replaying the feel of his hands, his mouth, the suffocating heat of him pressed against me. I told myself I was done, that I could survive without him. But survival wasn’t enough—I wanted him, and that made me dangerous to myself.
By Rosalina Jane22 days ago in Humans
What is Application Development? A Detailed Guide to 2026
Think about the last app you used today. Maybe you checked the weather, ordered coffee, or scrolled through social media during your commute. Behind each of those taps and swipes is a world of planning, coding, testing, and refining. That's application development, the art and science of building software that actually works for people.
By Supreme Technologies23 days ago in Humans
