Humanity
The Ups And Downs Of The Unconscious. Top Story - December 2023.
My life could be perfect material for a crime story. I was born and severely abused by people who were supposed to protect me from the dangers of this world. And although they protected me physically (as outwardly perfect parents) by providing me with food and shelter, there was also physical and mental abuse ruining it all. See where I'm coming from?
By Moon Desert2 years ago in Confessions
As Told By: I’m A Mean Girl and I Hate Myself For it.
I have the self-awareness to admit that I’m a mean girl just like the great Regina George said, “At least I know I’m mean.” I guess I have the morality to admit to myself that it doesn’t make me feel good, but I keep doing it. I guess there is a part of me that wants to stop but I can’t.
By Michelle2 years ago in Confessions
Story Time
I drive furniture for a living. At the motor depot, our delivery firm hires a parking spot for its vehicles. An ancient, still-Soviet vehicle depot, but without the overgrown weeds and piles of abandoned machinery that would normally be there, everything is in perfect order: the area is kept up, the repair area is spotless, and the cars are all driven precisely in a single line. Vans have their own space; there are only truck cranes and dump trucks. And Uncle Oleg, an elderly mechanic who has led this base's column since the 1970s, oversees the whole family. And everything is done with deference to him, which makes sense; there's a rationale behind it. One day during my first week of work, I was so eager to go home that I parked my vehicle a little bit further out rather than in a row. When the skilled driver saw this, he came over. You would level up, friend. You have your tail jutting into the driveway, notice? Indeed, it's rather typical. There is sufficient space for everyone.
By Chiheb Chipo2 years ago in Confessions
Move Over Holly, Hanukkah is Here. Top Story - December 2023.
Oh look, it's December! That means it's Chris-HANUKKAH season! That's right, it's time for the Festival of Lights and lots of jelly doughnuts. We'll light some candles, sing some songs, and fill our bellies with fried food. Do you know why?
By Oneg In The Arctic2 years ago in Confessions
Favourites & Scapegoats
I always thought I was hollow. Like the chair in the photo. Too broken at the beginning of the journey and too battered to put in the effort commensurate with the goals. That's why I always read everything I could get my hands on. To fill this sad void that I have carried through my life since birth. And then something happened. I left my country of origin.
By Moon Desert2 years ago in Confessions
Third Grade
I have felt like a bit of an outsider most of my life. That is something I haven't openly admitted before, because as a general rule, I never felt that being an outsider was a bad thing. My beliefs, interests, background, genetics, even my flaws set me apart from my peers, but they aren't things to be ashamed of. (Well, maybe some of my flaws.) They are part of my identity, who I am as a person.
By Alexandria Stanwyck2 years ago in Confessions
Scars of Resilience. Content Warning.
The first assault was a whisper. Not a literal one, but the insidious kind. It came from the corner of the playground, from the mouth of a boy with eyes like chips of ice. "You're not like the other girls," he hissed, his words dripping with malice. "You're different."
By Rupankar Nandi2 years ago in Confessions
Shattered. Content Warning.
I love watching movies and reading books as a way to grasp the world and how I belong in it. In the movie-Batman Begins-Young Bruce Wayne is asked why he falls as to which his dad replies-to get back up. I feel this concept has reigned with me the most. The lessons and trauma of my childhood remain embedded in my mind and often I sit for hours reflecting on them. To date I am almost 40 and yet still recall hearing certain phrases that would be repeated over and over throughout my life that I first heard at age 4.
By Sid Aaron Hirji2 years ago in Confessions
Winged Victory. Top Story - December 2023.
I'll confess, I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to participate in this Challenge. I'm not much of a sharer of the deep, personal parts of myself. At least, not on the internet, where your digital footprint will follow you even after death. (Morbid, sorry, hang in there)
By B2 years ago in Confessions
The Death of Burlesque
Burlesque’s Tragic Demise In January of 1974, I left my college dorm for the last time and headed for the big city of Rochester, New York to begin my new career. All it took for me to toss my graduation cap into the air and don a sequined G-String was the opportunity to dance my heart out every night and get paid for it. After having danced on Broadway in my mind since I turned five, that was a dream come true.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Confessions
