Ali Sadeek Ahmed
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Engineer-writer,( content creator, and poet )-Blogger-Youtuber
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Part Two: The Gypsy Hassan's Tale
Part Two: The Gypsy Hassan's Tale In the distant past, where clouds drifted through the sky, There was Hassan the Gypsy, whose moods shifted like a cloud, He changed like a chameleon, coloring his life, Who could understand his heart or decipher his fate written in the divine script? He lived with a monkey and a dog,
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Poets
HASSAN EVERYWHERE
HASSAN EVERYWHERE Introduction to the Story In a world where the lines between reality and myth often blur, there lives a character who embodies the spirit of chaos and adventure—Hassan. A man of many faces, a son of the wind and the dust, Hassan's journey is not one of steady growth or linear path but rather one of continuous transformation. His life, marked by the absence of a permanent home, mirrors the unpredictability of the world he inhabits. This story is not just his tale, but a reflection of the human experience itself—one of fluctuation, survival, and the endless pursuit of self. Now, we invite you into the world of Hassan—where every day is a new adventure, every place a new chapter, and every role a new possibility.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Poets
A traveler across times
The narrator begins: My name is Adnan. I was born into a Muslim Egyptian family in a village in the south of the country, where ancient traditions intertwined with tales of bygone times. I became aware of the world when I was three or four years old, and my earliest memory is of my elder brother's wedding. I wore bright white clothes adorned with joy and played in the spacious courtyard of our house alongside my brother, who was three years older than me. At the far end of the courtyard, religious singers and musicians gathered, while barbers busied themselves preparing the groom. But they were also there for another purpose—circumcision. This ritual was performed during such occasions, not in hospitals as it is today. While I was playing, I heard a voice say, "The younger one first!" I didn’t realize they meant me until I found myself being carried toward the man who would perform the procedure. It all happened quickly amid the sounds of chants and music. I felt no pain, as if blessings enveloped me. Afterward, they carried me to the second floor, where my mother greeted me with her cheerful face, saying, “Congratulations, and may your wedding come soon.” In truth, I wasn’t circumcised then. My mother later told me I was born circumcised, insisting that angels had circumcised me. Yet, when I drift into my thoughts and memories, I feel that in another era, I had undergone circumcision in a manner different from my brother’s experience. He, being older than me, underwent the procedure as part of the same celebration and suffered greatly, fainting and causing a commotion in the courtyard. Perhaps this moment marked the beginning of my great existential questions: Who am I? I was born into a rural family. My father was a strong and respected man who owned agricultural lands worked by the villagers and those from neighboring areas. He also held a position with the police. My mother was a homemaker with deep religious upbringing, the daughter of one of the village’s prominent sheikhs who served as both a counselor and healer using the Quran. We were ten siblings—seven boys and three girls—and I was the youngest of them all. Despite the comfortable life we led, I always felt I didn’t belong to this place. A mysterious feeling of being an outsider lingered within me, as if I had come to them by an unknown fate. I saw my family as an embodiment of strength and nobility. My father was a man respected by all, yet inside me, there was a struggle I couldn’t comprehend. I often had strong opinions that my family listened to, earning me the nickname “The Sheikh of Justice.” I despised oppression and defended the oppressed, even if it meant standing against one of my siblings. I loved horses passionately; they loved me back, and no one could rival my equestrian skills. My mother had a special affection for me. She would share her stories and songs with me, trusting me with her words. I was the only son she insisted on enrolling in public schools instead of religious ones. Even my elder brother followed the same path because of me. Despite this privilege, the sense of estrangement persisted, as though I had lived another life in another time, with an old story that never left my mind. Deep within, I believed that in a distant era, I was someone else in another place, within a great kingdom. There were vast green lands, rivers, gardens, and flowers blooming year-round. I was the son of a prominent family, with noble parents, warrior siblings, and loyal servants and guards. My elder brother, three years older, and I trained in horseback riding and martial arts, receiving private education in our grand palace. But one day, disaster struck. The kingdom fell to invaders, and the defenders retreated. To protect our lives, our parents decided to send us away with a loyal servant. I vividly remember their farewell, as if they knew they wouldn’t see us again. My father told the servant, “These are your sons now. Take them to the hill and watch from afar. If we prevail, you may return. If not, they are your responsibility.” Despite our protests, the decision was final. The kind servant took my brother and me on horseback, equipped with enough money and provisions to keep us hidden until the danger passed. The journey was arduous. We traversed valleys filled with venomous snakes and scorpions and sought refuge in a cave atop a mountain. When we approached the cave, the servant entered first to ensure it was safe. Inside, he found a human skeleton near the entrance. He lit a pile of dry branches, revealing a giant lizard that he quickly killed with his sword. After ensuring our safety, we settled for the night. Before sunrise, we left the cave, heading to a valley with trees, flowers, and springs to bathe and let our horses drink. The servant had a destination in mind, but he never shared it with us. Throughout the journey, we crossed mountains and rivers and walked through enchanting forests. But fate was unkind. We were ambushed by bandits who kidnapped my brother and fled. The servant fought valiantly against the attackers but fell, drenched in his blood, after killing two of them. I was left alone with my horse and the servant’s mule carrying the provisions. Unsure where to go, I wandered through rugged paths, hoping to find my brother or escape this uncertain fate. As night fell, I rested under a massive tree with beautiful flowers, letting exhaustion take over. Suddenly, my horse’s neighing and a voice saying, “This is the one we’re looking for!” woke me up. I opened my eyes to see two familiar faces—faces resembling my current parents! After that, I saw nothing more… until I woke up in my new home, among my new family. Is this reincarnation? A dream lodged in childhood memories? Or is there a deeper secret I cannot grasp? I do not know… but to this day, I feel I have never truly belonged to this world.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Fiction
Merit, Ahmed, and Mariam - Part Three
Merit, Ahmed, and Mariam - Part Three The First Encounter We return to our story where we left off at that astonishing moment when the television transmission changed, and Ahmed found himself watching the anchor presenting the program—it was none other than Merit. She addressed him in a calm yet penetrating voice: "You must divorce your wife, Mariam, and devote yourself to me alone. I am your first love, from long ago." It was not just words; it was a direct threat. "You know very well that you are Honfer Hotep, scribe of Amun, overseer of goods, and a nobleman of the Eighteenth Dynasty in the New Kingdom. And I am Merit, your wife, and a singer of the god Amun. We were together during the reign of King Ay, and I never accepted your marriage to another. I have been searching for you since your death until I found you again." Searching for the Truth Merit displayed on the screen ancient murals and inscriptions depicting them together, drawn on the walls of their old tomb. She revealed details of their marriage during the reign of King Ay, who ascended the throne after King Tutankhamun. Before disappearing, she sternly told him: "Think carefully about what I told you, or I will have to take action. I will wait for you tomorrow at the same time." Ahmed remained stunned, unable to utter a word, afraid that Mariam might notice what was happening. After his wife fell asleep, he rushed to his old black suitcase, took out his grandfather’s books, and started flipping through the pages of history. The more he read, the more he realized that everything Merit had said was true. His mind raced, and he asked himself: "How do I escape this dilemma?! She will return tomorrow night, and she has threatened to take action!" Fear and Hesitation The next morning, Ahmed did not go to work. When Mariam asked him why, he claimed he had stomach cramps. She left for work while Ahmed stayed behind, thinking of a solution. He considered reporting the statue he had found in his suitcase to the Antiquities Authority, but he quickly realized that this would land him in serious trouble. How would he explain possessing this statue? Where did he get it from? Which archaeological site had he excavated? So many questions made him abandon the idea. The Second Confrontation Mariam returned from work, evening fell, and the time for his next encounter with Merit approached. After dinner, the couple sat in front of the television for a while. Then Mariam excused herself to sleep, while Ahmed claimed he had slept too much during the day and would stay up a little longer. At midnight, the television transmission was interrupted again, and Merit appeared, immediately asking him: "What have you decided, my dear husband? I am Merit, your first love." Ahmed responded angrily: "I don’t know you! I was never married to you in the past or in the present!" The Shocking Truth At that moment, Mariam was asleep, but she heard Ahmed speaking anxiously. She quietly crept behind him, wanting to know whether he was talking to himself or to someone else. She was shocked to see that the television resumed its normal broadcast the moment she arrived. She asked him worriedly: "Who were you talking to? And why were you yelling?" Ahmed looked at her in silence, then decided to tell her everything. "You need to know the truth because you are my wife and my life partner." Mariam sat down, listening intently as Ahmed recounted everything that had happened. When he reached the moment of his confrontation with Merit, Mariam interrupted him: "I saw a woman dangling from the ceiling of the room..." Ahmed’s eyes widened in shock: "How did you know?!" Mariam continued: "She approached me on campus and spoke to me in the laboratory... Everything that happened to you, happened to me too." Then she looked at him seriously and asked: "Have you ever seen me and Merit at the same time?" Ahmed remained silent, his mind reeling under the weight of the revelation. "How do you know all these details that I never told you?" he asked, bewildered. Mariam smiled a mysterious smile and said: "Because I am Mariam... and I am also Merit, your wife from ages past." She left him in his astonishment, while the question hung in the air: Is there truly such a thing as reincarnation?
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Horror
Merit, Ahmed, and Maryam
Ahmed married Maryam, his friend and university classmate. They spent a beautiful honeymoon together, and upon returning home, Ahmed's parents visited them to congratulate the newlyweds. It was customary in their village for parents to bring all their children's belongings that had been left behind, in addition to gifts for both the bride and groom. When his parents arrived, Maryam warmly welcomed them. As they opened the packages, Ahmed was delighted to see that his parents had gathered all his old belongings, which had remained stored away due to his previous lack of a permanent home. During his university years, he had lived in a dormitory, and during vacations, he stayed in temporary accommodations. Everyone had long forgotten Ahmed’s past experiences—those strange occurrences in his old room that had driven him to leave for Cairo and settle there. However, as they unpacked, an old black suitcase appeared, filled with books that had remained untouched. Excited, Ahmed handed the suitcase to Maryam, asking her to set it aside so they could organize its contents later. The first two days passed happily with family. On the third day, Ahmed bid his parents farewell as they returned to their village. That evening, curiosity got the best of Maryam. She hurried to open the suitcase, eager to see if it contained any old letters from past relationships. She wanted to find them first and hide them if necessary. However, when she opened the suitcase, she was met with an unexpected surprise—a small pharaonic statue that closely resembled her, accompanied by a dark red-black agate ring. Stunned, Maryam turned to Ahmed and asked, "Did you send my picture to an artist in your hometown to have this statue made for me as a gift without my knowledge?" At that moment, Ahmed was equally shocked. Memories of his past came flooding back, reminding him of the eerie experiences that had led him to leave his old home. This marked the beginning of their troubles—hallucinations, illusions, and a deep fear of the unknown. The night after opening the suitcase, Maryam placed the small statue inside a glass cabinet that held various collectibles. However, the next day, she noticed something strange—the statue had moved from its original spot. She thought she might have misremembered where she had placed it and dismissed the thought. She chose not to mention it to Ahmed, fearing he might mock her. Maryam was unaware of the history behind this statue or its significance. She simply believed Ahmed had commissioned it for her as a thoughtful gift. That night passed uneventfully. However, later, when Ahmed woke up to use the bathroom, he was startled to see a full-sized image of Merit—a woman from his past—etched onto the bathroom wall. He slammed the door shut and hurried back to Maryam, making an excuse about the water being cut off. By morning, when Maryam entered the bathroom, she found nothing unusual and reassured Ahmed that the water was running fine. She didn't see what he had seen. When he asked if everything seemed normal, she casually confirmed, mentioning that all the toiletries and perfumes were in place. Ahmed rubbed his eyes, convincing himself that he had imagined the whole thing. Ahmed and Maryam both left for work. Ahmed, who worked in a laboratory at the university's science faculty, was used to conducting experiments in a controlled environment. Everything had always functioned as expected—until that day. As he resumed his work after his wedding leave, he noticed something inexplicable. Each time he tried to mix chemical compounds, the reaction would occur before he even initiated it. Bewildered, he wondered if he had absentmindedly performed the experiment without realizing it. This happened repeatedly, in various ways. Sometimes, a solution would disappear entirely. Other times, its volume would increase or decrease inexplicably. In some cases, unexpected additives caused unpleasant odors or small, harmless explosions. Concerned, his supervisor patted him on the shoulder and said, "We trust you, Ahmed, but perhaps you need some rest. The wedding must have exhausted you." Ahmed was baffled. He had not anticipated such disturbances following him to work. That evening, as he and Maryam returned home together, she went to prepare dinner. When she opened the china cabinet to retrieve some tableware, she saw something terrifying—the pharaonic statue was smiling at her, winking with one eye while keeping the other open. Terrified, she screamed for Ahmed to come and see what had happened. When he arrived, however, the statue appeared unchanged. He saw nothing unusual. Maryam insisted that she had seen it move, but Ahmed reassured her, saying, "This statue is carved from alabaster, which creates an illusion depending on how you look at it." Maryam calmed down somewhat, but Ahmed knew better. The strange incidents at work were proof that something unnatural was occurring. He began to suspect that Merit—his past tormentor—had followed him from his village to Cairo. The next day at the lab, Ahmed experienced the most shocking encounter yet. Merit fully materialized before him—not as a mere vision, but as a shadowy figure only he could see. She began speaking to him, commanding him, but he dared not respond, fearing his colleagues would think he had lost his mind. Sometimes, she laughed at him. Other times, she raged. She appeared in different places—sometimes right before his eyes, other times hovering near the ceiling. The constant hauntings drove Ahmed to the brink of insanity, eventually forcing him to leave his job. The worst came when he returned home. As Maryam changed out of her work clothes, she asked Ahmed to retrieve some plates from the kitchen. Moments later, he was shocked to see Maryam already there, dressed in her home clothes and arranging the plates. Confused, he asked, "How did you change so quickly?" She didn't respond. Suspicious, he rushed to the bedroom—only to find the real Maryam still in the process of changing. Panicked, he ran back to the kitchen, but the second "Maryam" had vanished. That night, as Maryam went to bed, Ahmed sat in front of the television, trying to make sense of everything. Suddenly, the TV screen flickered, and the channel changed on its own. To his horror, the news anchor presenting the program transformed into Merit. She stared directly at him through the screen and spoke: "Divorce your wife and devote yourself to me. I have always been your true love—from a time long before this one. I will never leave you." To be continued…
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Horror
Star in the Sky – A Song of Love and Light
Introduction Music has a way of taking us beyond the ordinary, lifting our spirits, and painting emotions in melodies. Star in the Sky is a song about love, destiny, and the magic of finding someone who changes your world. Inspired by the beauty of the night sky, this song captures the feeling of soaring above all worries, lost in the glow of a love that feels limitless. Below, you’ll find the full lyrics. Let the music take you away! Star in the Sky – Lyrics I met you high in the sky so bright, A shining star, you changed my life. Your glowing light, it calls my name, No more clouds, no more rain. We soared above, just you and me, In a world so wild and free. No more pain, no more time, Just endless love in endless skies. You're my star, my melody, A song of love that sings to me. I've seen the stars, I've seen the moon, But none could shine the way you do. You dance above, so dazzling high, A glowing spark in endless night. Your shadow sways upon the sand, It takes my heart, it holds my hand. Take me higher, take me there, Where love is floating in the air. No more sorrow, no more cries, Just you and me in starry skies. I met you high in the sky so bright, A shining star, you changed my life... Final Thoughts Music has the power to connect hearts across languages and cultures. Star in the Sky is a melody of love and hope, a song that reminds us that sometimes, the universe aligns to bring us something truly magical. If this song resonates with you, don’t forget to share it and spread the love
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Poets
Ahmed, Merit, and Maryam
Our story deals with a subject that I, as a writer, do not believe in and disassociate myself from—namely, the concept of reincarnation in human bodies. The story begins with a teenager no older than eighteen, a high school student. His father is a villager, a landowner with agricultural properties. Ahmed was intelligent, diligent, and excelled in his studies, always ranking first in his school and sometimes even in his entire province.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Confessions
Mysterious Fisherman (A Tale of Mystery and Myth)
The story goes I was newly married, and a year had passed since my wedding. As per our traditions, my wife moved to her parents’ house shortly before her due date to receive care and assistance during her pregnancy. Our village was surrounded by sprawling farmlands, and my wife, like me, was no stranger to this environment. Her parents’ house was nestled among their fields, about three kilometers from my own home. One day, I decided to visit her to check on her and offer my help if needed. I dressed in my best clothes, wore polished shoes, and applied my finest cologne before setting off. The path to her parents’ house cut through fields and alongside irrigation canals. It was the season of the “winter dam,” when the water levels drop, making it easier to catch fish. Along the way, I passed a large ancient stone etched with strange inscriptions. The stone, as I’d heard from elders, was a remnant of a long-gone pharaonic temple. Stories circulated about a spirit said to inhabit the stone—a spirit that appeared and vanished without causing harm. As I continued walking, I reached a canal and spotted a man fishing. His face was turned downward toward the water, and I couldn’t make out his features. I didn’t think much of it and went on my way to my in-laws’ house. After spending some time with my wife and her family, I started my journey back home, retracing the same path. When I reached the same canal, I was surprised to see the same man still fishing in the exact spot. This time, he called out to me, saying: “These fish are like spirits! I can’t catch them alone. Would you help me?” I replied, baffled: “Are you out of your mind? Do you expect me, dressed as I am, to jump into the canal and fish with you?” I left him and continued walking toward the ancient stone. As I approached the stone, the very same man appeared beside it. He looked at me and called me by name. Then he said: “Look over there!” I turned my gaze, and to my shock, I saw the fisherman I had left at the canal. He was stretching taller and taller until his height surpassed the palm trees, pointing at me with an outstretched hand. Frozen in fear, I turned back to the man by the stone, only to find he had vanished. All that remained was a piece of cloth from his clothing lying on the stone. Terrified, I ran home and recounted what had happened to my family. My father, familiar with the tales of the stone, warned me: “If you had joined him in fishing, he would have stripped you of your clothes and disappeared. Spirits often take such forms to trick the unwary.” Some time later, I returned to the spot to look for the stone, but it was gone. I was told that during my absence, a stranger had appeared at the site. He stood by the stone, muttering incomprehensible chants. Witnesses thought he was uncovering a treasure. Instead, he mounted the stone as if it were a horse and soared into the sky. To this day, people still talk about the ancient stone, but its mystery remains unsolved.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Horror
Your command is strange,
You look happy, Asking for help, that’s nothing new. Be ashamed. You ask for assistance with a hardened, intoxicated heart. You’ve killed peace, even the doves aren’t spared from you, And the actions of the vile have caught up with you. And blood spilled, it’s impossible, To ask for help when your heart isn’t in peace. Swear an oath, your actions are cowardly, You’ll see the result on a day of darkness, Black and foul, like your face, not in peace, Your actions are cowardly, The result is the death of peace, Children die, and boys are forced into sleep. Your actions are cowardly, Threats and killings every hour in revenge, You know exactly, look, your actions are those of the vile. Your command is strange, your actions unbelievable, Asking for help? Once upon a time, You had a soul, and now you are ashamed, your actions are cowardly, You are a being, a cancer, a demon, Wandering with hopes that spread, erasing peace, But my God sees perfectly, And He is peace, and never sleeps, And you will have your day, O oppressor, Wait for the day of revenge. Be ashamed. All the people are fighting for peace, They work and produce with respect for it. Your actions are unbelievable. All of humanity, east and west, are asking for a pact of peace, Be in your state and consider, in the course of time, There was oppression and chaos, and there was no stability. Why is there war and people dying, While you are happy and proud of the actions of the vile? You look happy, Killing here and striking there, even far away, He got betrayed by you after safety. You’ve done barbarity, you’ve planned it. And the circle must always keep turning, Breaking down foundations, Weak foundations from its injustice or even by the strength of time. Your actions are devilish. Your threads love you, and with your deceit, you burn in flames. My Lord is kind, with His wisdom, No matter how long it takes, the days will pass. Many things you think of, There were once mighty beasts with great importance, But in the end, their power faded, Their flame dimmed and extinguished, And they were lost in the grasp of time. A history is written with His wisdom, Without their own history, through His words and actions.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Poets
Mad World
Mad World Mad—this world I entered so, Dazzled by its reckless glow. I fought to flee, yet it drew me near, Awakening me, dispelling fear. It teased, it played, it lured me in, To taste its madness, drink its sin. It dressed me up in life’s embrace, Then spun me in its wildest race. Childhood left, a fleeting hour, Dancing, laughing, lost in power. Then youth arrived with reckless pride, The world still laughing, open wide. It led me on, no rest, no pause, A ceaseless chase, a tireless cause. I climbed, I clung, I spun around, Yet in its madness, I was bound. Mad—this life that whispered sweet, Now burdens me with toil and heat. How shall I flee, where shall I go, If I let go, will it bestow— A peace, a silence, a breath so free, Or will it take the rest of me? Should I dance or stand so still, Let the storm decide my will? Yet wisdom calls, a voice so light, To live with madness, not in fright. Embrace the dance, the fleeting glance, For such is life—a mad romance. Yet know the path, where freedom lies, Beyond the world, beyond the skies. For He who shaped this stormy sea, Holds its end and destiny. So let the madness rise and fall, For He alone will tame it all.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmed12 months ago in Poets
Does Creativity Get the Appreciation It Deserves? A Personal Reflection
Does Creativity Get the Appreciation It Deserves? A Personal Reflection Introduction: Creativity is a powerful force that allows individuals to express their deepest thoughts, emotions, and ideas. For many, it is not merely a hobby but a way of life—a means to connect with others, challenge norms, and leave a lasting impact. However, when this creative energy goes unrecognized or unappreciated, it can lead to profound frustration and self-doubt. This article delves into my personal journey as a creator on an online platform, exploring the challenges of gaining recognition, the value of time and effort, and the ways to navigate the complex dynamics of publishing. 1. The Issue of Recognition One of the most disheartening aspects of being a creator is the disconnect between effort and appreciation. Despite dedicating countless hours to crafting stories, poetry, and lyrical compositions, my work often struggles to gain traction. On other platforms like YouTube, my creations have amassed hundreds, even thousands of views. Yet, on this particular platform, the response has been underwhelming. This discrepancy raises an important question: why are these works published if they do not meet the platform's standards or audience expectations? The approval process suggests a level of quality, but the lack of engagement leaves creators feeling undervalued. 2. Balancing Personal Satisfaction and Financial Goals As a creator, I have always approached my work as a passion project rather than a source of income. However, even hobbies require encouragement to thrive. For those who rely on creative endeavors as a livelihood, the stakes are even higher. Platforms that fail to recognize or reward creativity risk alienating talented individuals who could otherwise contribute significantly to their communities. When neither personal satisfaction nor financial benefits are realized, the motivation to continue dwindles. Creators begin to question whether their time and energy could be better spent elsewhere. 3. Questioning Publishing Policies Another challenge is understanding the platform's policies and algorithms. How does the platform decide which works to promote? Are there specific strategies that creators can adopt to increase visibility and engagement? For instance, if my work falls short of expectations, I would appreciate constructive feedback to improve. Alternatively, if there are techniques to optimize my content for the platform, clear guidelines would be invaluable. Transparency in these processes could bridge the gap between creators and platforms, fostering a more supportive environment. 4. The Value of Time and Effort Creativity is an investment—not just of skill but also of time, effort, and emotional energy. Writing, editing, and perfecting a piece demands dedication. When these efforts yield little to no return, creators are left questioning their choices. Time is a finite resource, and for many, it is the most valuable asset. Wasting it on unproductive endeavors can lead to regret and a sense of lost opportunity. For me, as a consulting engineer in petroleum constructions, my professional commitments often compete with my creative pursuits. Ensuring that the latter feels meaningful is crucial to maintaining balance. 5. Practical Steps for Improvement To address these challenges, creators and platforms can take proactive measures: Engage with Platform Management: Reach out to understand the platform's goals and how to align content accordingly. Diversify Publishing Channels: Explore other platforms to broaden your audience and reduce reliance on a single outlet. Build a Personal Brand: Invest in self-promotion through social media, newsletters, and collaborations. Seek Constructive Feedback: Constructive criticism can be a powerful tool for growth, helping creators refine their craft. Conclusion: Creativity is an intrinsic part of human expression, deserving of recognition and encouragement. While external validation should not define a creator's worth, platforms have a responsibility to support and uplift the individuals who contribute to their ecosystems. By fostering transparency, providing feedback, and promoting engagement, platforms can create a mutually beneficial relationship with their creators. For creators like myself, the journey is not just about producing content—it is about finding purpose and fulfillment in the act of creation. Whether as a hobby or a profession, creativity thrives in an environment where it is valued and nurtured.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmedabout a year ago in Confessions
