Secrets
"Invisible"
"What was, was" My life as it were. I was newly separated and in emotional pain all the time, way back in the late 1980s and early 1990s. My daughter Melissa had been born prematurely, and thereafter our security and lives changed forever. Life would never be safe again. It would not be sane. I would not have any skills or talents ever again.
By WriterS.InK Inc. (Sandy Groyer)5 years ago in Confessions
How to eat with just a little Stone
I love the way this story is told. The Stone’s Broth is a Portuguese traditional dish with a traditional tale. I like this story because it shows one of the best characteristics of the Portuguese people: we can always come up with some solution, whatever the fate gifts us. It’s an inspiration to go though depression and other kinds of problems.
By Sofia Duarte5 years ago in Confessions
Hey Cheerleader
My sophomore year started off great, I was the starting guard on an up-and-coming Tiger team. The previous year we were ACC regular season champs, one of Clemson’s greatest teams. I’m over visiting my teammates Mike & Mike, 2 of the craziest players to wear a Tiger uniform. We are laughing at them making fun of me, when a sexy long-legged blonde interrupts us. Taylor had been my friend since the beginning of freshman year. Our relationship was purely platonic, however she had gone through a few of my teammates and one of the Mikes was her latest victim. She sees me and gives this look that at first frightens me. Taylor was a man-eater of epic proportions, and I was sure she would gobble me up. However, she had other ideas for yours truly.
By Timothy Kincaid5 years ago in Confessions
I Write
I write. I have this Monkey that sits on my shoulder. From time to time it gets down into my ear and does a cannonball like flip into my stomach, where it then pulls itself up into a knot in my chest and eventually rests on the lump in my throat. Sometimes I go days choking on the words that have been brought up from my heart, it is unfortunate that this is the only way I can connect what I say with how I feel. As if the veil were never torn see my heart is caged by this grey matter that enacted some sort of autopilot in me. I am on a merry go round and the world is spinning around me I keep my eyes fixed above me and the few times the chaos begins to slow enough, that is when all the emotion Comes rushing up and I spew it out gasping for air in between. I hear a voice inside that tells me this is not real; I must have not survived some incident and this place I am in/that is in me, is my purgatory where anxious and blindfolded I wait. Everyone is the same yet different Like the book “The Langeliers” by Stephen King, I must have blinked and became engulfed in some black hole, I look down at my hands completely covered in black matter. I close my eyes and try to sense my kids, my family, anything familiar, but the taste even though slightly familiar is flat. I am paralyzed and trying to make contact. I mouth out the words “Wake me up.” The only voice that comes out is that of the monkey, I look at the people around me and without words I ask, “Did you hear that?” but they do not hear a thing. I close my eyes attempting to escape it. Motionless I listen to the stone-cold screams of the silence and a constant howling that only gets closer, so then I open my eyes to escape it. It tries to follow, and I quickly pick up my composition book as my armer, my pen becomes my sword I go into battle. Sometimes the only way out is the way I came in and sometimes I am far in before I realize it. I begin to search for crumbs left behind from my falling apart. I feel as if I am in a time capsule and the navigation has begun to malfunction. I open the pages of my journal and the words illuminate like a map. I can retrace my steps. There are days I am so exhausted I fall asleep inside of the pages and they wrap me up in their embrace and carry me to safety. I am here. I am alone but I am here. I consider I am much like an alien and then I wonder what an alien is, how do you describe one without using words made up by man. My subconscious stands on my shoulders as these thoughts begin to flood me and just as the water begins to reach my nose a being dressed in a white suit with blue pinstripes reaches out a hand to wipe my eyes and embraces me with warmth and belonging, I am consumed by a light feeling that says, “Wont you tell me all about it?” It begins, Words are spilling out and filling in the lines trapping the monkey, with all its doubt, inside. Six O’clock becomes clear again and that grey matter that once made up the sarcophagus that encased my heart comes alive as if a spell has been lifted, in all resilience it finds its way back to where it belongs on this vessel. I learn a little more about myself and become a little more familiar, a little more aware of the passenger on board that seeks to sink my ship. My name is Gabrielle Jourden Garland, I search my soul, I search the universe, and I write to escape it.
By Gabrielle Garland 5 years ago in Confessions
Watch your Fucking language. Or not.
Throughout our lives, we’re raised to be mindful of profanities. Don’t cuss in public. No swearing in front of grandma. “Yes Bobby Joe, I know our last name is Sailor-Mouth, but you can not swear like a sailor!” Yeah, those people. Fuck’em.
By The Storyteller5 years ago in Confessions
Writing Through the Pain
Writing. I used to hate it as a kid. My mother loves telling people now how I told my fourth-grade teacher that no matter what happens, the last job I would ever want is to be a writer. I did not just say this because I did not want to do the assignment. It was just true. As a child, I would rather have been reading a book than writing one.
By Timothy Radke5 years ago in Confessions
Are you a Fish out of the Water? Become the Sushi of your life!
Since little that, my education was all about living by our morals from a philosophic point of view. With that in mind, I always seem to be from another world. Even my first and last name’s letters are ET: as an alien to all social gatherings. Misfit is my middle name, I cannot tell enough times that I was ‘out of place’, but let’s try to find some funny moments about my life that I was out-of-place.
By Sofia Duarte5 years ago in Confessions
Notoriety
A man once sought notoriety, But all he… But all… Okay, if I’m being honest, I completely forgot where I was going with this but I’m totally sure it was clever. I mean, I’m almost always clever, at least when no one else is around. I’m the funniest, most outgoing yet laid back guy in the room, when no one else is in the room.
By Jackson Howl5 years ago in Confessions
My Story
This is my story. I will start by telling you that my story is not that pretty and it is harsh. It starts with me deciding that I wanted to be friends with my ex, with the hopes of winning him back. He called me one day over the summer just before freshman year, he asked if I was down to hang out and maybe do more. I said yes, which I later regretted. So we met at an abandoned house and talked for a while, then we started to kiss and remove clothing. He had me pinned to the floor and asked if I was ready I wanted to say no, I wanted to shake my head push him off me but I froze and he took that as a yes. Even when I put my hands on his chest trying to stop him he kept going, he finished and left me there. I got dressed and was too ashamed and scared to tell anyone so I kept my mouth shut. For years I kept that secret, I started having nightmares and was constantly afraid. I hated being touched and felt scared every time someone was interested in dating me. I felt like it was going to happen again. I finally let someone else in my life and I wanted to please him so I gave him whatever he wanted even if I didn’t want it. This includes sexual stuff, I started letting stuff happen to me without saying a word. Still having nightmares of my ex I just pushed it down and allowed this guy to continue using me. I finally had enough after 3 years of his bull, we broke up but I still allowed all of my ex’s use me. The guy after him was a single father. We dated for a little bit before he got me drunk down by the river and took advantage of me. I finally called it off when he tried to put me in the middle of his baby momma drama. After him I again let guys use me for whatever they wanted, I allowed myself to be used for sex again. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of yet again. I have spent so much time and energy allowing this to consume me. I am now living my life no longer allowing guys to take what they want. I lost so much just cause I let myself think I had no self-worth, I let myself think I was worthless, I let myself think that no one would ever love me. I know now that you have to love yourself before you can allow anyone to love you. I do not take anyone bull anymore, I do not allow anyone to take advantage of me anymore. I have spent many years letting that happen and I no longer will deal with that bull. I am a woman, we are powerful. I have learned to love myself, I know my worth. I know what I want in life and I know I am done playing games with these boys and allowing them to take what they want. This story may make many people think less of me but I honestly stopped caring what people think and what they want. I tell this story because I want to get it off my chest and want to let others who have gone through or are going through a similar situation. I want to let them know that it is ok and that they are not alone.
By Maria Johnson5 years ago in Confessions
