Family
The Day I Stopped Refreshing the Page
The Day I Stopped Refreshing the Page For a long time, my mornings started the same way. Not with breakfast. Not with stretching or deep breaths or gratitude, like people on the internet suggest. My mornings started with refreshing a page.
By Salman Writesabout a month ago in Confessions
The Kind of Tired Sleep Can’t Fix
I’m not tired in the way sleep can fix. I’ve tried that. Early nights. Late mornings. Power naps that turn into guilt. None of it touches this kind of exhaustion. It lives deeper, somewhere behind the eyes and under the ribs, where rest doesn’t reach. It’s not the kind of tired that fades with eight hours under a blanket—it’s the kind that lingers even after the alarm clock says I’ve had enough.
By Salman Writesabout a month ago in Confessions
I Became Strong the Day No One Checked on Me
There’s a strange kind of silence that doesn’t come from being alone. It comes from realizing that people know you’re struggling and still choose not to ask. It’s not the absence of voices—it’s the absence of care. That silence is heavier than solitude, because it reminds you that you are visible, yet unseen.
By Salman Writesabout a month ago in Confessions
The Experiment They Tried to Bury
Science is often imagined as clean, neutral, and unstoppable—a steady march toward truth guided by logic and evidence. But history tells a messier story. Some experiments didn’t fail because they were wrong. They failed because they were dangerous to the wrong people. Dangerous to authority. Dangerous to profit. Dangerous to comfort.
By Aiman Shahidabout a month ago in Confessions
When Your Voice Shakes but You Speak Anyway
There is a particular moment many of us know too well—the second just before we speak, when our heart races, our throat tightens, and our voice threatens to betray us. It’s the moment when silence feels safer, when staying quiet seems easier than risking judgment, rejection, or consequences. Yet sometimes, despite the shaking, despite the fear, we speak anyway. That moment is not weakness. It is courage in its rawest, most honest form.
By Aiman Shahid2 months ago in Confessions
The Price of My Silence
The silver spoon in baby Leo’s mouth cost more than my father earned in a year. I watched the light glint off the polished metal as I fed him, my expression a mask of practiced, professional warmth. To the Richardsons, I was "Mara," the quiet girl from the agency with glowing references and a knack for soothing colicky infants. They saw a savior; I saw a crime scene.
By luna hart2 months ago in Confessions
When Speaking the Truth Meant Death
Throughout history, truth has rarely been neutral. It has threatened kings, embarrassed empires, exposed religious authority, and shaken political systems built on fear and illusion. For many who dared to speak it aloud, truth was not rewarded with recognition—but with exile, imprisonment, or death.
By Aiman Shahid2 months ago in Confessions
Word of the Day: やらせ
I am really annoyed for some reason. I guess it's a lingering effect of talking to my mom. I think I am also annoyed because I ordered food, like I am hungry so probably my emotions are heighted so I am hoping I'll calm down after I eat food.
By Kayla McIntosh2 months ago in Confessions
