Family
"The Day I Learned to Shut Up and Listen
I used to think I had to have an answer for everything. If someone complained, I gave them a solution. If someone told me their problems, I tried to fix them. I thought that’s what being a man meant — solve, repair, rescue. Like life was just one long busted engine.
By Rizwan 8 months ago in Confessions
Friendship Breakups Hurt More Than Romantic Ones
“We used to talk every day—now we scroll past each other like strangers.” That line hit me like a freight train one evening as I journaled through another spiral of emotions. I had just stumbled across a photo of us from five years ago—laughing, arms looped around each other, no care in the world. My chest tightened. This wasn’t an ex-lover. This wasn’t someone who ghosted me after two dates. This was my best friend. My person. The one who once knew every corner of my heart. And she was gone.
By Muhammad Sabeel8 months ago in Confessions
Spin That Rotary
The current technology that’s there around you can be a fascinating sight especially if you’re a kid. When I was a young kid growing up throughout the 90’s to early 2000’s, scrolling through social media and watching YouTube videos on our cell phones wasn’t heard of. There was no such thing. At least as far as the 90’s was concerned.
By Jasmine Aguilar8 months ago in Confessions
Title: The Violin Under the Willow Tree
The small town of Elderbrook had a secret that only the wind and the willow tree seemed to know. In the farthest corner of Windmere Park, nestled beneath the heavy branches of an old willow, sat a violin. Weathered by time, its strings had snapped, and its once-glossy surface had faded to a soft, grayish brown. Most people passed by without noticing it—just another forgotten relic of the past. But to the town’s oldest resident, Mrs. Eliza Harrow, the violin was a monument to love, loss, and memory.
By Umar Ali8 months ago in Confessions
When I Found God
When I Found God How God Met Me at the Kitchen Table By Joey Raines Description: This true story follows my search for God and the moment everything changed. What began as a simple decision to read the Bible turned into a life-altering encounter with the presence of God. If you’ve ever felt distant, uncertain, or hungry for something more, this testimony might speak to you right where you are.
By Joey Raines8 months ago in Confessions
The Truth Nobody Told Me Until It Was Too Late
I used to think I had time. Time to chase dreams. Time to make things right. Time to say the things that mattered. But here’s the truth nobody told me until it was too late: You never know when your last chance will come—or when it will vanish.
By Zeeshan Khan8 months ago in Confessions
My Life Looked Perfect Until Tuesday
Everyone said my life looked perfect. And honestly… they weren’t wrong. At least, not on the surface. I had the kind of life people double-tap on Instagram without thinking. A cute apartment with matching throw pillows. A fiancé who brought me coffee in bed. A marketing job that paid me more than I deserved, and a dog who followed me around like I was his whole world.
By Asmatullah Afridi8 months ago in Confessions
The Love That Stays: Platonic Soulmate
In a city full of reggaetón, roosters, and really bad drivers, it’s easy to feel like you’re losing your mind. But every now and then, someone walks into your life who reminds you that chaos can be beautiful… if you have someone to scream-laugh through it with.
By ✨Anahis✨8 months ago in Confessions
The Day Innocence Took the Controls: The Tragedy of Aeroflot Flight 593
The Day Innocence Took the Controls: The Tragedy of Aeroflot Flight 593 On March 23, 1994, Aeroflot Flight 593 took off from Sheremetyevo International Airport in Moscow, bound for Kai Tak Airport in Hong Kong. It was supposed to be a routine flight across Siberia, piloted by an experienced Russian crew aboard a modern Airbus A310. But what transpired in the skies that night was anything but routine—it would become one of the most haunting and preventable aviation disasters in modern history.
By Salar Khan8 months ago in Confessions
“The Last Cup of Tea”
Every day at 4:00 p.m., Mrs. Patel made tea for two. She lived in a small, ivy-covered house on Rosehill Street. Her neighbors called her “the tea lady,” mostly because the scent of cardamom and cinnamon floated from her window like clockwork. Rain or shine, winter or summer, the ritual never changed: two cups. One sugar. A slice of ginger. Poured carefully. Always served on a tray.
By Umar Ali8 months ago in Confessions
