Bad habits
Chinese house and Western house
In the training class, the teacher talked about this issue: at present in China, the house can be said to be a necessity for marriage, any pair of men and women talking about marriage, the first thing must first solve the housing problem. And the house must be bought, the ownership must belong to the couple itself, as if only then, these two people are considered to have a real place to live. If it is rented, temporarily borrowed, or parents' property, then it is equivalent to no place to live. But in the West it is different. Westerners before the age of forty can buy a house is definitely an exception, before the age of forty, whether married or not, most of them are renting a place to live, or other channels to obtain a place to live, in any case, not their own money to buy, must be older people to be able to own their own property rights. Strangely enough, young Westerners who get married without buying their own homes do not consider themselves homeless, and men do not feel humiliated by the lack of a wedding home, nor do women feel aggrieved by marrying such a man. On the contrary, both men and women will live in the rented house in peace of mind, living as the Chinese bought their own house.
By DannyMox4 years ago in Confessions
OPIOIDS, The Good The Bad and The Ugly
It took me a long time to get to the point where I was comfortable enough to be open about my addiction. I was in denial for so long and I could not come to terms, that something like that would ever happen to me. I understand now that God had me go through it, to touch someone else, that may be going through the same thing.
By Harlie Jo 4 years ago in Confessions
How I Fight My Cripling Impostor Syndrome One Work Unit At a Time
A while back, I had a very experienced psychologist review my work. One has to respect the work psychologists do and their role in our health. Psychology is a very sensitive field for sure. A field that fascinates me immensely.
By James Ssekamatte4 years ago in Confessions
A Letter to all the Writers Using the Format of a Letter to Someone/Something as a Story Hook
Dear writers using the format of a letter to someone/something as a story hook, We need to talk. First I am sorry this message has to come in the form of a letter and not in person. It was simply not possible to locate every writer using the format of a letter to someone/something as a story hook to deliver it face to face. A quick scan of several "popular" web publishing platforms suggests that hundreds of these stories formatted as letters are written and published each week. This particular writing trick has been around since age immemorial and is so played out. Please, please stop using it. It is almost as cliché and overused as the article title in the form of a question which I have also suggested should see a major reduction in usage or even total elimination. The title of that article was itself written in the form of a question, much like the this piece which is written in the form of the very thing it is denouncing. That is referred to in the writing business as irony or satire or parody or one of those things. Not really sure exactly which, but definitely one of those, and most definitely awesome, smart, and funny, just like the author of this article, me. I am not saying that using the format of a letter to someone/something as a story hook is always a bad idea, but I am saying it is lazy, and way, way overused. While writing a story in the format of a letter to someone/something and/or with a title in the form of a question are both superior to writing a story in the form of a cooking recipe. they are all still lazy and way, way overused. If you do not have any better ideas for the format of your story below are some suggestions you might try, beyond the obvious of just writing it in the form of a story. Of course, don't forget that it needs to be at least six hundred words or obviously, it won't be any good and not worth publishing, but that goes without saying. How about any one or more of the following story forms you might try that are not in the form of letters to someone/something or with a title in the form of a question:
By Everyday Junglist4 years ago in Confessions
"Finding Balance"
"Finding Balance", is just like this photo you see above. Mostly for me, its like I'm handling life circumstances as they come and go. And they do come and go whether fast or slow. Kind of like how the wind of life that tries to knock you off your balance. Yet, here I am. Staying strong and in my most urban way of saying it "Thuggin It Out". Life has taught me a lot about standing on my own two feet; just being the real, honest, authentic, version of a Christian I can be.
By CJ4 years ago in Confessions
143
Angela finishes off her fifth bottle of Budweiser before nine. She moves to tie her laces, as their cat, Humphry brushes up against her arm. The rays from the early sun shine through into the living room. It was the first enjoyable day they had had in a while since the weather is temperamental in Seymour, Indiana, and Angela was eager to go out for a walk. Her roommate, Jessica, hates it when she goes out for walks on her own, especially while drunk as they don’t exactly live in the best area and plus, she has gotten into some trouble before while on a drunk walk alone. However, Jessica is still sound asleep, and Angela doesn’t want to wake her. She herself isn’t really that worried but she also is buzzed so she grabs the pepper spray just in case and leaves a note for Jessica. Grabbing her headphones, she heads out the door into the warm May air. Thankfully, there is a park about a twenty-minute walk away. Angela walks the distance to the park, making sure to be aware of her surroundings, but she is buzzed so everything is a blur. Once at the park, she begins her stroll on the park’s path.
By Kiara Wallace4 years ago in Confessions
A Serial Killer’s Redemption
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley.” Those were Malachi Grey’s last words as he lay strapped down to a cold operating table. Cold can be used to describe him too. Cold blooded. Cruel. Calculated. Calloused. And a convicted serial killer with 13 murder charges.
By Joe Gorman 4 years ago in Confessions
Chère Ana, S'il Vous Plaît Léger Comme Une Plume
Translation: Dear Ana, Please, light as a feather. . . . Just one more bite. The metal prongs placed a large chunk of dark greasy steak between my lips. The fork scraped against my teeth as I devoured the meat. My tongue electrified with pleasure after every oozing bite of flavor. Just one more bite. The white fluff of thick mashed potatoes slid down the back of my throat. Instinctively knowing the exact destination to quench my torturous hunger. Just one more bite. Just. One. More. Bite. The sound of food slapped on my plate like slop rippled through my ears. To me, this sound, it was beautiful. Like the soloist of a chorus. Or the final act of a miraculous play. I danced with it. I danced with this sound as if it was a part of me. It was something you could almost taste. Even smell. I lived in happiness, I breathed contentment, and I cried desperation with this sound until it not only became a part of me, but was me.
By Candy Rose4 years ago in Confessions
Reliving Past Horror's
The year was 2012 anxiety already a little bit high because of the whole Myan calandar debacle. Free time was something I had alot of, always researching controversal topics. Life at that time was everything I ever dreamed of. I was living with my pregnant girlfriend in a very dangerous part of town, but none of that mattered to either of us. We wanted the freedom of not having parent's lurking down your back especially when you're trying to get intimate with your equally frisky spouse. I spent alot of the night hours down in my basement, tinkering around disembling old microwave's so I could play with their magnetron's. What's a magnetron you ask we'll get to that later. Experimenting with various application's I quickly devoloped a love for all things science, granted I was a full time pot head at the time. My nineteen year old pregnant girlfriend didn't share the same joy I did when it came to magnetic's or perpetual energy. I never tried to push it on her but I suppose all those long hours in the labortory she got bored and eventually she moved back home with her mother. Can't blame her every night there was gunfire of some sort outside our apartment, let alone the prostitution that took place in the early morning hours. All of a sudden the ideas that once flowed through my head stopped. I was all alone with no one to talk to, no one to share my thought's with. So being a twenty one year old, bored with nothing to do I went to the bar.
By Mike P4 years ago in Confessions
