The 9x Fawdi
Bio
Dark Science Of Society — welcome to The 9x Fawdi’s world.
Stories (221)
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Tenant in the Basement. AI-Generated.
Every mind has a basement. A place where we store the things that don't fit the narrative of who we think we are. The rage that shames us. The pettiness we deny. The selfish, primal urges that have no place in polite society. We lock the door and tell ourselves the basement is empty.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Psyche
Weathered Map of Us. AI-Generated.
We have been married for twenty-seven years. We are no longer lovers in the frantic, breathless sense of the word. We are cartographers. We have spent decades mapping each other, and the territory we now inhabit is so familiar we can navigate it in the dark.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Marriage
Architecture of a Marriage. AI-Generated.
If a marriage were a house, ours would be a rambling, old, slightly crooked structure built over many years. We didn’t follow a blueprint. We built it room by room, wing by wing, sometimes with grand designs, other times with hasty repairs when life’s weather tore the shingles off.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Marriage
The New Armor. AI-Generated.
My grandfather’s armor was made of steel and sweat. It was the hard hat he wore in the shipyard, the grit under his fingernails, the quiet pride in providing for his family through sheer physical endurance. His vulnerability was a private thing, hidden like a shameful secret.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Men
Weight of Softness. AI-Generated.
My father’s hands were maps of labor. They were calloused, nicked with scars from tools and machinery, and permanently stained with grease. They could fix a carburetor, frame a wall, and, on rare occasions, administer a disciplinary spanking that stung for days. They were not hands for gentle things.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Men
Unwritten Script. AI-Generated.
There is a script for being a man. An old, dog-eared script passed down through generations. It has chapters on stoicism, on being a provider, on fixing things with your hands, on swallowing fear and grief until they become a hard, silent stone in your gut.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Men
