Secrets
The Web of Confessions
In a small, close-knit town named Maranville, life thrived on the surface like any other community. The children laughed in the parks, elders exchanged pleasantries by the local market, and the scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air. The people were united by their shared traditions and daily routines, creating a seemingly perfect image of unity. Yet, beneath this surface, each soul carried a secret, a hidden burden they dared not reveal.
By John Francisabout a year ago in Confessions
Ai Bullshit
Last night I was so pissed because I was commenting on a Youtube tarot card reader's reading and saying it was bullshit he was using Ai for everything and talking about it possibly having consciousness and going forward with it in a "spiritual sense".
By Kayla McIntoshabout a year ago in Confessions
Righteous in a corrupt world
The world is a corrupt place and it's only getting worse to the extent where corruption is steadily becoming the norm. We’ve gotten to the point where we even question what the truth is anymore. The very foundations of what makes us humans are no longer regarded as solid, you’ve got people wondering what a woman is, whether the realities we’ve always known even exist anymore.
By real Jemaabout a year ago in Confessions
Secret Confession. Content Warning.
This incident occurred in the last days of my engineering. I was a computer science student. I used to know one girl during my college days. For the sake of narration let's call her 'Snehal' (not her real name). Honestly, we were more than good friends. We had known each other for almost 4 years. We had kissed each other a couple of times but that was it. We never got to reach second base. But we were perfectly all right with that. Our friends knew about us. So did our professors but they did not bother us because our grades were top-notch. In short, we were the no-nonsense type of students.
By Chahat Kaurabout a year ago in Confessions
If I was born with you
If I was born with you what would have been the difference? If I knew, where could we have been? You used your cloudy fingers to trail your way to deep to my soul , you're handsome not just handsome, like a being beyond sculpture, if I knew a way to get close to you I'll be ready to do what it takes just to be close to you. You know we humans has classified, have portrayed a perfect partner, everyone wants "the perfect one, and who will be with the trash, the waste".
By Betel Vineabout a year ago in Confessions
Ammanda Part 2. Content Warning.
After that summer, my bond with Ammanda grew in ways I never could have imagined. It started as something casual—long conversations by the pool, moments of quiet laughter, and stolen glances when no one was looking. Despite her serious nature, Ammanda had a warm side she rarely showed, and I felt lucky to witness it. Months went by, and while she remained guarded about her private life, I began to sense there was something deeper beneath the surface. One evening, as we sat under the stars after a long day, she opened up to me about her past—about a marriage she was in that had lost its spark, but one she couldn’t easily walk away from. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her husband, but their relationship had become more about duty than passion.
By Niskiabout a year ago in Confessions
Their Last Night on Maple Street
They say memory is a funny thing, but I don't find it funny at all. I find it frustrating—because no matter how hard I try, I can't remember exactly what happened that night. Not clearly, anyway. But I know I didn’t do anything wrong. I need you to believe me.
By Donna L. Roberts, PhD (Psych Pstuff)about a year ago in Confessions
Friday Mr. Pencil
She is a professional, but her outfits always push the limits. She loves attention and is very generous with sharing photos of herself with men. I hate it; I often wonder who else received these pictures and if they were actually intended for me. But it’s the videos she sends of herself—just being her, laughing, singing, or chatting with me—while I can see her lace bra peeking out from under her silky tank top beneath her blazer. Sometimes, she positions the camera so I catch a glimpse of her thigh tattoos, and even more often, I notice her lack of panties. Occasionally, there are videos of her walking along the sidewalk, already late for a meeting; she’s always late. Her heels click on the pavement, her sunglasses are stuck in her hair, and her eyes sparkle as she makes a final joke before heading into her council meeting. I know these are made just for me, and I see her—who she really is—and she’s stunning. I can’t help but wonder what the people in the meeting she’s headed to must think as that immense presence enters the room.
By A Lady with a Penabout a year ago in Confessions
