Secrets
Invisible writer
In a quiet corner of the city, hidden between a crumbling bookstore and an old tailor’s shop, was a narrow alleyway that led to an apartment no one remembered renting. Its only occupant was a man whose name never appeared on any list, whose face no one recalled, and whose voice no one had heard in years. He was known, only by rumor, as the Invisible Writer.
By Dr.zee9 months ago in Confessions
The Dream That Sank in a Gold Mine
Once upon a time, nestled between the rugged cliffs and whispering pines of the Northern Mountains, there lay a small village named Elmsworth. It was a quiet place, full of simple people and simpler dreams. Among them lived a young man named Thomas Hale, whose eyes sparkled not with contentment, but with hunger—for wealth, for fame, for something more.
By Tahir Mehmood9 months ago in Confessions
The Last Letter He Never Got to Read
I never thought silence could echo so loudly—until he was gone. The day after my grandfather’s funeral, the house felt different. It was still filled with the same furniture, the same photographs, the same faint scent of coffee and old books. But it wasn’t home anymore. It was a museum of memories. A space where everything stood still.
By Muhammad Hakimi9 months ago in Confessions
The Day I Helped a Lost Child—and What It Taught Me About Humanity
It’s funny how life sometimes throws moments at you that make you pause, reconsider your beliefs, and even change the way you view the world. It was one of those ordinary days that, in hindsight, I realize wasn’t so ordinary after all. Little did I know, a single encounter would leave an impression so profound on me that it would redefine my perspective on human connection.
By Muhammad Jawad9 months ago in Confessions
How a Stranger’s Compliment Pulled Me Out of a Dark Place
It’s easy to feel lost when the world around you seems to be caving in. Sometimes, the weight of life’s struggles can feel suffocating, and the simplest of things – like getting out of bed or facing the day – becomes a challenge. I had found myself in that dark place, a place where joy seemed like a distant memory and every step forward felt like trudging through thick mud.
By Muhammad Jawad9 months ago in Confessions
Discovering My Passion for Painting at 40
It’s funny how life often throws unexpected gifts when you least expect them. For me, the gift came at the age of 40, a milestone that is supposed to be a marker of adulthood, responsibility, and perhaps the beginning of a midlife crisis. But for me, it was something more profound—a journey of self-discovery and rediscovery.
By Muhammad Jawad9 months ago in Confessions
When Love Faded: How I Reclaimed My Identity After a Breakup
When people talk about heartbreak, they often describe it as an explosion—loud, sudden, and devastating. But for me, it was more like a slow unraveling. A quiet pulling apart that started long before the actual goodbye. I didn’t notice it at first. Or maybe I didn’t want to. But eventually, I looked in the mirror and saw someone I barely recognized—a woman who had slowly disappeared inside a relationship that no longer reflected her.
By Muhammad Jawad9 months ago in Confessions
The Illness That Changed My Perspective on Health and Happiness
Before I got sick, I thought I understood what it meant to live a healthy life. I exercised a few times a week, watched what I ate (more or less), and took pride in not missing a single workday in years. I measured health by physical energy and productivity. But that illusion shattered the day I was diagnosed with a chronic illness I never saw coming.
By Muhammad Jawad9 months ago in Confessions
How Losing My Job Helped Me Rebuild a Better Life
It’s strange how the worst moments in our lives can become the foundation for something better. At the time, it didn’t feel like a blessing in disguise—it felt like the world had collapsed beneath my feet. But looking back now, losing my job was the wake-up call I never knew I needed.
By Muhammad Jawad9 months ago in Confessions
A Name I Borrowed To Be Myself
I am Aarvi. As you already read in the title, it's a fake name—a fake name I created to be myself. Because society and the people around me won't accept a girl who questions everything, who loves to raise her voice and say her thoughts out loud. If I try to be myself, all I get is criticism, disrespect, and becoming a joke. Why?
By Aarvi nilli9 months ago in Confessions
The Secret My Grandmother Took to Her Grave—And Why I Dug It Up
My grandmother, Eleanor, was the kind of woman who spoke in riddles. Stern, devout, always impeccably dressed in wool skirts and pearls, even in the summer heat. She ran our family like a quiet monarchy—respected, feared, and never questioned.
By MALIK Saad9 months ago in Confessions
