Cotheeka Srijon
Bio
A dedicated and passionate writer with a flair for crafting stories that captivate, inspire, and resonate. Bringing a unique voice and perspective to every piece. Follow on latest works. Let’s connect through the magic of words!
Stories (121)
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The Portal’s Edge Subtitle
Dang, the whole afternoon started off like any other—just four kids, bored outta their minds in the sticky summer heat. Maya, Eric, Lola, and Javier, all with nothing but flashlights, a couple granola bars shoved into deep pockets, plus the usual group bravado you get after years of sneaking around together. So, someone (probably Maya, because duh) goes, “Hey, wanna hit up the quarry?” Of course, they’re all in. No one says no to Maya, especially when her eyes get that spark, you know? Anyway, they’re crashing through knee-high weeds and kicking old stones, swapping dumb jokes, feeling invincible and basically immortal. No clue how wild things are about to get.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Fiction
The Whispering Crown
Alright, let me take a swing at it— So, Eldoria—picture a kingdom that probably looks like it was snatched right outta some old storybook, all rolling hills and rivers that actually glitter in the sunlight. Sounds peaceful, right? Well, it kinda was, at least until Princess Lyra got involved. Lyra wasn’t your cliché royal, trust me. Forget ballgowns and tiaras—she'd rather be elbows deep in wildflowers (probably got dirt under her fingernails most days), weaving between trees like she belonged out there more than in a marble hall.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Fiction
Rising Stronger
Alright, picture a tiny town where hope felt about as common as a unicorn in a Walmart aisle. Enter Clara—a single mom running on sheer willpower and probably way, way too much coffee. The woman dragged herself out of bed before the sun had any business being up, feet hitting the floor with that weird stubborn kind of determination only coffee, exhaustion, and unconditional love can cook up. Her kids, Mia and Ethan, blissfully snoring away, always reminded her what she was fighting for. Clara didn’t just juggle work—she straight-up performed circus tricks with her three jobs. By sunrise, she was already elbow-deep in flour at the bakery, working dough like a magician who sure wasn’t paid enough for her skills. The place always smelled like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, yes, but it’d take more than some sugar and cinnamon rolls to hide the sting of scraping by. She pushed through, though, picturing her kids inhaling pastries at the breakfast table, faces lit up with so much joy it made all the madness feel almost worth it. But man, those hours chewed her up. The bakery gig turned into a blur, then—no time for a break—she’d haul herself over to the diner. Dishes clattering, customers yapping, waitresses gossiping while the world spun around her. Most days she just powered through, but sometimes a dumb joke from a regular or a ten-cent tip would actually make her laugh. Tiny wins. Evenings? Oh, you thought she was done? Nope. She wrapped it all up by scrubbing the night shift away at some office. There were moments when she’d just stare out the window, letting herself feel the exhaustion pressing down, every flickering fluorescent light taunting her with how much she’d sacrificed. Still, she refused to let go of her dream—she’d promised Mia and Ethan a shot at something better, and dammit, nothing was knocking her down. Despite the grind, Clara wasn’t a robot. Joy snuck in—like when Mia painted wild stories in neon colors and Ethan made the whole apartment shake with giggles. Bedtime? Yeah, that was her magic hour. She spun stories about bigger worlds, better futures, the kind where struggle didn’t get the last word. Weekends? Now that was her tiny window of peace. The three of them’d hit the park, spread out sandwiches on worn towels, and basically forget for a hot minute that real-life problems existed. Clara never let a day go by without drilling in some values—gratitude, hard work, that whole “life’s tough but so are you” mantra she’d basically tattooed on her heart. But, because life’s a jerk, things got worse. Diner hours got slashed, bills stacked up faster than Mia’s Lego towers, and dread started to claw at her chest. For a second, Clara nearly drowned in it. But promises matter, especially to moms who don’t quit—she clawed her way back. Then, in classic never-saw-it-coming fashion, she overheard the bakery manager yammering about a new position—someone to oversee everything. Light bulb moment. All that slogging through jobs suddenly felt like training for this. Heart thumping, she stepped up and asked for the chance. “Clara, are you sure?” her manager blinked, clearly not expecting this woman to throw her hat in the ring. “As sure as I am tired,” Clara grinned. “Honestly, I’ve seen it all here. Give me a shot.” Boom. Suddenly she was spending nights poring over notes, rehearsing in front of a cracked bathroom mirror while Mia and Ethan cheered her on with wobbly drawings and dreams of becoming astronauts and artists. The day of the interview, she walked in like she owned the joint. Spoke from the gut—no fancy words, just pure Clara. She told the panel, “Look, if I can keep smiling after three jobs and still bake a mean croissant, I can handle anything you throw at me.” Couple days later? The phone rang. Life-changing time. She got the job—promotion, better pay, and finally, a bit of breathing room. She hugged her kids so tight that night, whispering, “See? Told you dreams are stubborn if you are.” Truth is, Clara’s story isn’t some shiny fairy tale. Nah, it’s messier, raw, and real. Her fight made her kids believe, and in the glow of one hard-won victory, she found proof that sometimes, just sometimes, the universe pays up for all the late nights and broken dreams. Even on the longest nights, she’d always bet on that brighter dawn—turns out, she was right.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Motivation
Rising from the Ashes
So, picture this: sleepy little Willow Creek—nothing major happens here, right? But then you've got Emma Roberts strutting around with this wild ambition crammed into her, like her dreams were way too big for such a tiny place. She wasn’t just talking a big game; she wanted to shake up the world with eco-friendly home stuff that’d actually make life better and not trash the planet. Problem is, anyone who's ever even thought about starting a business knows it’s never smooth sailing. Like, ever. Emma’s opening move? Biodegradable cleaning supplies. She went all in. I mean, she dumped her savings into the whole operation—hunting down good-for-the-planet ingredients, jazzing up the packaging, even hacking together this intense marketing plan that probably gave her actual headaches. Launch day rolls around and… nada. Zero buzz. The products just sat there, gathering dust while the big name brands strutted their stuff like unbothered peacocks. The store owner, keeping it brutally honest, just shrugged and said, "People buy what they know." Ouch. So, Emma licked her wounds and switched lanes. This time she thought, why not hit up the gardening crowd? Organic, sustainable tools—they gotta love that, right? She made each tool herself, getting crafty with it. And again, the response? Underwhelming, to put it nicely. Gardeners basically said, “Cool, but not for that price.” Shelf life: blink-and-you'll-miss-it. Cue the classic ‘sitting alone in the park, doubting your entire existence’ phase. Seriously, she was THIS close to giving up. But then, mid pity-party, Emma spotted inspiration all around her—the greenery, the wild little flowers doing their own thing. That stubborn spark inside wouldn’t die out. She whipped out a sketchbook and started dreaming up new ideas. This time, she figured, why not let the internet help her out? So she rolled up her sleeves and dove into online courses. Social media tactics? Check. E-commerce nightmares? Bring it. She came up with something that actually got her pumped—plant-based, biodegradable packaging. This wasn’t just another product; it had platform potential. What if, hear me out, she created a space for other eco-creators like her? Like some Avengers-level team-up for the planet. Enter Eco Collab, her next big thing. It was rough, not gonna lie. Building a website from scratch? Not as easy as those YouTube tutorials make it look. Money was tight, self-doubt was constant, but Emma was stubborn. She started DM’ing other green brands, pitching the idea. Turns out, a couple of them actually bit. It wasn’t exactly a gold rush, but hey, it was a spark. She hyped up their products online, shared their stories everywhere she could, and slowly, people started FOLLOWING. Like… actual traction! Brands joined, a small crowd started caring, and Emma—ever the ringleader—kept the hype alive. After a few months of hustle, the site finally started to feel alive. Orders trickled, then flowed. This scrappy, underdog network was becoming its own little ecosystem—loads of brands, one big goal: making the planet suck a little less. Emma didn't just sit back—she kept her crew tight. She brainstormed with them, figured out new ways to get in front of customers, did collabs, memes, whatever worked. All those earlier “failures?” Just plot twists, really. Redirections. Then, boom. Some influencer with a ridiculous number of followers dropped a post featuring one of the EcoCollab products. The thing blew up overnight—Emma's phone didn’t stop buzzing. Suddenly, sustainability was trending, and Emma’s scrappy start-up became the place to be. Of course, it was never easy. Half the time she was a nervous wreck, half the time just running on pure adrenaline—but every flop taught her something useful. Resiliency, new hacks, whatever. She owed her wins to that never-quit mindset. Word of what Emma built spread beyond Willow Creek’s little borders. She started talking at events, pumping up other wannabe entrepreneurs and telling it straight—failure isn't the end, it just puts a little glitter on the way to winning. When she finished her speeches, you just knew she meant every word: “Stick with it. Water your vision. Be weird. Be stubborn. That’s how you win.” Honestly? Emma didn’t just flip her own story—she dragged a whole bunch of people up with her. The message? Forget giving up. Light that fire; let it burn so bright, even your doubts need sunglasses. That’s how you make a mark.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Motivation
Dancing Through Shadows
Alright, let’s toss the shiny narration and polish out the door, yeah? Here we go. So picture this: cramped city blocks buzzing with frying oil, people, and a heap of noise. Lila, just fifteen, living in a world that kinda smelled like grilled corn and old dreams, decided she wanted something besides the daily grind—dance. Not ballet-for-rich-kids dance in a shiny studio. Dance like you can’t help it, like it just sort of explodes outta your soul when you hear the right beat. Spark hit her when she caught a glimpse of a local theater performance through foggy glass—bam, her brain rewired itself on the spot. “Yep, that’s it. I wanna do that,” she thought, probably ignoring that the universe had other plans. Of course, “other plans” was basically the slogan at Lila’s house. Mom worked double shifts at a greasy spoon, dad had pulled a disappearing act years ago. There was barely enough cash for dinner, let alone tutus and top hats. But Lila? Stubborn as a cracked sidewalk. She practiced outside. Shoes got battered, but concrete makes a pretty good stage if you squint, and random strangers became an accidental audience. Most barely noticed, but whatever—she wasn’t dancing for them anyway. Weeks blurred into months. Lila kept showing up at the park with scuffed sneakers and hope, copying what little she could catch through the window of a fancy studio. Parents huffed past, looking at her like she was nuts. Who cares? Lila twirled and leaped like nobody was around, except, okay, sometimes she wished someone cared. There were nights she watched dance competitions online, pixelated on her glitchy phone, thinking, Why not me? And every time her mom dropped the “be practical, honey” bomb, Lila just doubled down. Then, the plot twist you could see coming if you’ve ever had a montage play out in your head: this flyer comes whipping down the street. “Dance Scholarship Auditions!” It might as well have had her name on it. But, twist again: no money for lessons, rehearsals, or anything really. Did that stop her, though? Yeah, right. She hustled. Babysitting, dog-walking, washing windows—anything for a buck. Pennies added up. She practiced before sunrise, after homework, whenever the city noise would let her. When audition day rolled around, she squeezed into a dress she'd patched so many times it basically had her DNA in the seams and walked onto that stage. Heart pounding so loud she could barely hear the music—but the music was enough. Lila danced like all her sadness, her hope, everything tangled in her chest, had finally found a way out. A blink and she was finished. Silence. Crap, maybe she’d blown it. Then—applause, big and honest, rolling over her like the best kind of surprise. Someone from the academy grinned at her. “You’re in!” Seriously, she almost fainted. Fast-forward—she’s training like a fiend, meeting other scrappy teens with dreams bigger than their wallets. They lean on each other, sweat, laugh, fall down, get up. Lila figures out dance is half training and half believing in yourself when no one else really does. Eventually, graduation day’s looming and some big-deal dance company’s got tryouts. Anxiety? Off the charts. Tells her family—well, sort of. She’s worried, ya know? She doesn’t want them to feel left behind. But she goes. Nails the audition because, let's be honest, if grit had a face, it'd be hers. She gets the job. Turns out, sometimes happy endings happen outside Disney movies. She rushes home, eyes leaking tears, and her family? Finally, that pride she’s been starving for shows up in their faces. The struggles? They didn’t crush her—they turned her into someone who could friggin’ leap. So, yeah. Lila didn’t just chase down her dream. She ran it down barefoot on cracked pavement and spun it into gold.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Motivation
Navigating the Psyche: Mapping out the Intricacies of the Human Mind
A Curious Invitation So there’s this old library—real dust collector, totally invisible to most people—in this sleepy little hillside town. It’s the kind of place that smells like crumpled up pages and lost time. Through those rainbow-stained windows, you get these lazy sunbeams cutting through all the floating dust. Honestly, it’d make a killer setting for a mystery flick.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Psyche
The Inner Workings of the Psyche: Understanding the Unconscious Mind
Alright, let’s shake things up a bit. So, picture this: Laura’s curled up in her old armchair (the one that’s permanently molded to her butt, because let’s be honest, nobody sits anywhere else when journaling). Room’s all aglow with that dim evening light—she’s got this vibe like she’s about to discover the cure for existential dread, but really, she’s just probing the weird depths of her brain. Meanwhile, outside? World’s sprinting to its next chaos. Inside? Call it a cozy psychological safari.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Psyche
A Journey into the Human Mind
Wow, the world’s basically a circus these days—memes flying, phones buzzing nonstop. Somehow, Max carved out a tiny oasis inside his own noggin. This dude, he’s not exactly a rock star. Just a low-key psych student, glued to his mountain of books, trying to figure out what makes people tick. Honestly, he spent more time staring into the abyss of the human mind than going to parties. But he always felt like he was peeping through a window at his own brain, wondering what weirdness was lurking beneath. So, he whips out a journal—nothing fancy, just some battered notebook—and starts scribbling.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Psyche
The Great Awakening: Lessons from a Pandemic
Alright, let’s paint a more human mural here— So picture this loud, happy little town called Vitalia. People are buzzing about, caught up in their routines—work, dance parties, Sunday markets—life’s moving to its own familiar beat. Vitalia’s reputation? Epic hangouts and neighbors who probably know what you ate for breakfast. Pure small-town gold. But, of course, nothing gold stays, right? There’s this virus, sneaking around the globe, and it’s about to crash the party. Uninvited, obviously.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Education
The Journey of Resilience
Alright, let’s spin this tale a little differently—give it some real-life flavor. So, there was this colorful little village called Harmony, tucked away where mountains pretty much high-five the sky and rivers used to snake all over (well, back when they weren't bone-dry). In the middle of all that lived Amara—yeah, the one with the contagious grin and a stubborn vibe that said, “Try me.” Not that her life was a Disney movie, but damn, she kept her head up.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Education
Cosmos
The Starry Invitation Alright, so picture this: tiny, sleepy village tucked behind hills, fields lit up like a Bob Ross painting. That’s where Lila lives. This kid’s got curiosity practically oozing out of her pores—head full of questions, eyes full of stars. Every night like clockwork, she’s up on her favorite little hill, doing her best philosopher pose and staring holes into the sky. I mean, stargazing vibes—set to max.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Education
Pixel & Purpose
Eleven-year-old Aniya was known around Westfield Middle School for two things: being quiet and crushing video games. Whether it was building empires, surviving zombie waves, or solving digital puzzles, Aanya was unbeatable. Her classmates would often peek over her shoulder during lunch just to see how far she had leveled up.
By Cotheeka Srijon8 months ago in Education
