Secrets
Smith’s Bar
Once upon a time, this place was my Cheers and my name is not Diane.. it’s Diana. I have plenty of stories on this joint. Hell’s Kitchen, NYC. I saw this bar go from rags to pretty dolled up rags I mean riches. That part of town has most certainly been dolled up in the recent years. I remember when Smith’s underwent renovations, it went from hole in the wall vibes to Broadway! Lots of big lights, we jokingly asked for bottle service when we really meant Heineken and Bud Light. Who introduced me to this joint? Just some guy who saved my life.. long story so I will take it nice and easy on you darling. Stay with me a while and I will share with you how I too found love in a hopeless place!
By The Vibe Podcast 4 years ago in Confessions
Having More Than One Resolution Per Year Is Useless
Like many, I grew up with a lot of expectations behind my back. Have you noticed that whenever you go through an emotionally difficult episode in your life, the people who gave you a hard time shape your personality? Pay attention to the voices in your mind the next time you’re ready to react, notice how they're someone else's voice—and not yours.
By Rabih4 years ago in Confessions
Rabid
Every day I wake up, and I breathe in the cold air. Just the way I like it. I never could stand the heat, maybe it’s because I put off so much of it myself. The heat disturbs me, and makes me feel uncomfortable. It dries me out and chaps my skin. I feel like a rabid dog. Desperate for water. Hot. Confused, and alone. Cold. Just the way I like it, or so I thought. Is it wrong to be upset? Or is it the way I express being upset? Where is the balance? Who am I, if not a rabid dog, tearing at my skin and reaching for the skies with my teeth. I want to bite the world, and make it leave me alone to my end. I thought I could change, I thought I could be better. I thought if I drank water, I would be able to choke out the words “I’m sorry”. All it does is choke the words down more. I want to bite the world, for leaving me alone. I don’t understand myself anymore, or if I ever really did. Do the people in my life? Do they know of the caged dog, foaming at the mouth, right in front of them? Do they know of my bloodied paws from the endless, fruitless scratching of the cage, of my skin? Do they know of the hoarseness of my throat from the endless, silent howling? How could they? I can only snap, snarl, and foam. I bite, because I cannot speak. I cannot speak, because I would only bite. Who am I, if not a pathetic victim on the leash I locked onto myself? I look down into the water that chokes me and I only see a stranger. Thin, twisted, nothing more than a snarling animal. I’ve always felt comfortable in the cold, as if the ice and snow were there to wrap me up in a blanket of sheer cold. Yet, now more than ever, I feel the wind. Where it used to soothe my skin, it now feels like a prison. It feels as though it has abandoned me, yet invited a stranger in to torture me. Why did I ever like it? I tear the hair from my head, release the blood from my veins. I gurgle and sputter on my own vomit. My body aches, groans, and collapses in on itself. Cold. I no longer like it. I am a traitor to myself. I am a traitor to those who believed in me. Where once they called me noble, loyal, with promise, there is only a dying creature lying before them. I wish they would put me out of my misery. I wish they would see a proud dog is still inside of my now corrupt, mangled form. He still howls, yet he is not heard. He still claws and bites, yet cannot escape. The blood begins to full my lungs as my head continues to ache. I cannot breathe. I cannot drink. I cannot sleep, and I cannot bear the cold any longer. It feels so cold, it burns now. I wander, and wander, yet the snow only gets deeper, and deeper. I can feel the frost in my bones. All that I will be lies in front of me. The nothingness of the dark, windy forest welcomes this once-noble beast. My skin feels tight, my mind feels heavy, and my bones ache to free themselves. I wish I could remember what I used to be, though my mind is nothing but mush now. I wish I could feel comfort in the cold again, though my body is crumbling. Who am I? A rabid dog? Or a man who cannot change? I howl, though the sound is lost to the darkness and the wind.
By Luis Perez4 years ago in Confessions
Happy New Year
I’m a high school teacher. Every year I get a week long break for Thanksgiving, 2 weeks for Christmas, 1 week for Spring break, and 2 months for summer. Most teachers would agree that the time off is never enough. I know that sounds crazy. All that time off and its not enough. But the emotional, mental and physical requirements of the job is insane. It’s not just about teaching, its about providing a safe and welcoming enviroment for over a 100 kids on a daily basis. We are therapists, parents, disciplinarians, comedians, actors, performers everyday, all day.
By Chaosstar4 years ago in Confessions
I am a Gold Medal Contender in Sleeping Around.. Top Story - January 2022.
I wish the Olympics were a little more open minded. People have physical talents that go beyond the Sporting "S-Club" of Speed, Strength or Stamina. Let's have some medals for Sass or Style or Savoir Fair....
By Caroline Jane4 years ago in Confessions
I'm Ok
Questioning the answer I’ve given allot lately. This is my confessions. Sometimes I lie to myself and say I'm ok. Most of the time I lie to others when I say I'm ok. The truth is I’m not ok, sometimes I just want to scream until I pass out. Sometimes I wish I had the balls to say, I'm not ok. I am twenty-seven years old and I just found out it is ok, to not be ok. I am now more aware of mental health. For years things I have felt I could not speak on. Due to my past, I was doomed at the age of 6 l. By the time I was 13 I had 3 sexual abusers haunting not only my dreams but my everyday life. Having to live in the world alone because I couldn’t trust anyone my mindset matured and my childhood was left behind quickly. I’m ok. I have repeated to myself through the years with tears running wild like ocean water down my face. I eventually blocked out my trauma enough to fail myself again. I trusted someone who I thought was an older brother figure to me. He became my 4th sexual abuser and yet I still have to continue to be Ok and remain a functional mess. But I’m proud to say I’m a step closer to being better because I acknowledge it. I know now that all those times I was not ok but I do want to be better than ok and that starts with the truth. I told my mom and dad what happened to me on December 2, 2021. I’m proud of myself. I came so far when I thought I would get nowhere. Some would say I was cursed because I now I'm a lesbian. But I do NOT think my sexual preference is based on what happened to me. In fact, I believe my sexuality is a blessing because I don't think a male could give me the love that was stolen from me the very first time my innocence became someone's option. The woman I fell in love with gave me the will to live honestly now more than ever now that my secret is out. It has been 6 years and throughout everything, she sits here comforting me using my love language and I cringe at the physical touch of anyone but welcome her's I am enveloped in peace. Saying what happened to me out loud is something I didn't think I would survive to do. I have social anxiety and can only be around certain people as well as if I do have people in my presence it's a limited amount of time. Now that I brought you up to speed with a few things that are going on in my life can you understand why I am now buckling down on my mental health, working on being around a family who should now see through my unauthentic smile, but has only shown me reasons why dealing with this alone could still be better. Both routes I have chosen are extremely difficult if I survived endless torture from others and myself for 21 years I think I owe it to myself to Live in my truth. I don't understand others' thought processes when it comes to this topic in but I can say there is no handbook on how to survive. There is no time frame on when you can speak your truth. Since the day you were born it was always supposed to be on our time and when we were ready. If you read this please understand it’s ok to not be ok. It’s ok to feel how you feel and express yourself. It’s ok to still have hope and try again.
By D.A.M.N Ent.4 years ago in Confessions
Father and Son
By JJ Cornish (Based on a True Story) SON I love my Daddy. I love him a lot. He’s the best Daddy ever! I love Daddy more than Mama well I love them just the same but Daddy a little more. My favorite time is when Daddy gets home and Mama tells me to run down steps to Daddy. I love Daddy lots!
By JJ Cornish4 years ago in Confessions
A Chefs’ Wife (A Chefs’ Lie-fe)
The moment they become a chef, you become the ex. Obsolete in the face of the worlds' admiration for them. Their love and talent can no longer be shared with you, it now belongs to the people and the fans that surround them. First, they single him out of the herd, then dominate his time then back you away and then lastly cut you out, the last painful nudge. All you can do is stand there and watch the person you love excel to greatness as your grip on their hand is slowly pulled away. How can ONE person grip tightly enough to someone’s hand, while on the other side, there is an entire restaurant full of people pulling from the other end…. Try to stay busy to distract oneself from the fact that I was losing him day by day, second by second, phone call by endless phone call and specialty menu by specialty menu.
By Fernand4 years ago in Confessions
