Persephone
Bio
Author of heartfelt romances and a visual artist, I hold a degree in Construction - Buildings. Passionate about literature and cinema, I blend creativity from reading, painting, and films to enrich my writing. Join me on this !
Stories (13)
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Love Dies in Silence — and Is Reborn Through Self-Love
Sometimes, we want someone to stay with all our heart. We crave their presence, their embrace, the look that understands without words. But for some reason — pride, fear, insecurity — we can't bring ourselves to ask. The desire to have that person close is immense, but the words won’t come out. We keep hoping the other person will notice, that they’ll understand through our gestures or our silence what we don’t have the courage to say aloud. We silently wish they would just guess.
By Persephone8 months ago in Confessions
The Price of Fragility
We live in an era where consumption isn’t just encouraged — it’s demanded. We are bombarded every day with products, content, distractions. We’ve been taught that to be happy, we simply need to buy something new, watch another show, consume one more ready-made experience. And without realizing it, we’ve drifted away from our true nature: to create, to think, to question.The result is everywhere. We are increasingly anxious, depressed, and apathetic. We've lost the spark in our eyes because we stopped building something that is truly ours, something that is born from within. Creativity — the vital spark of human existence — is being suffocated by the ease of prepackaged experiences. We’ve stopped imagining. We’ve stopped dreaming. We’ve become addicted to receiving, incapable of producing.
By Persephone9 months ago in Confessions
Bad mood can be a cry for help.
It's getting really hard for me. There are days when I don't even recognize myself. And I don't like this version of me. I was born happy, but the world is wearing me down. My body keeps moving, but my soul feels lost. I get impatient, irritated with everything and everyone, craving silence, but also longing for comfort. And I don’t have that option. Because I’ve always been the on who gave comfort.metimes I feel so ashamed… It’s like I’m always the last one to understand what’s happening in my own life. But deep down, I know exactly what happened. And that’s what hurts the most.
By Persephone9 months ago in Confessions
What I Think About Christmas
I used to love Christmas when I was a child. At the age of seven, I discovered that the presents were given by my father, not by the so-called jolly old man who came at night and slid down the chimney to leave gifts under the tree. After all, that doesn’t make sense, as I live in a tropical country and in a region where it’s never cold. We don’t even have chimneys! It would make more sense to have a giant freezer to combat the year-round heat. Santa Claus couldn’t possibly come out of a freezer. Or could he?
By Persephoneabout a year ago in Confessions
Harmonies of the Past
I love listening to music, if possible, all day long, even if it's just quietly playing to keep me company. And I can only sleep well when I'm listening to music. I keep switching radio stations, browsing through Spotify profiles, and even checking out YouTube channels. Music has always been a part of my life, for as long as I can remember.
By Persephoneabout a year ago in Viva
The Cost of Being Stubborn
We all have times in our lives when we are stubborn. This is very normal. I used to be a very stubborn person, but gradually, I decided to rethink my attitudes and see if they really fit the issue or situation and if they were valid for me as a person.
By Persephoneabout a year ago in Viva
The Pleasure of Reading a Dark Romance
When I read my first dark romance book, I found myself thinking halfway through the first chapter: My God! What is this that I'm reading? It was a strange feeling, I admit. I knew it would have a heavy theme, but since it was my first one, I never imagined I would read something that, to me, was so disturbing.
By Persephoneabout a year ago in Fiction
The Love and the Difficulty of Loving
After all these years, I recently discovered that my mother is a toxic person. Not because she wants to be, but because life made her that way. And when I stop to analyze, I understand that she can’t change that now. It’s too late!
By Persephoneabout a year ago in Confessions
Shadows and Sighs: A Tale in the Style of Edgar Allan Poe
In the gloom of the vast Halloway mansion, perched on a secluded, mist-covered hill, the old Charles Moore lived a life marked by endless boredom. The walls of his residence, paneled with dark wood and adorned with aged tapestries, seemed to whisper forgotten secrets. Silence was a constant, broken only by the monotonous tick-tock of an antique pendulum clock that dominated the living room.
By Persephoneabout a year ago in Horror
