Stream of Consciousness
The Last Time We See Her
The static hummed, a low, persistent whisper against the quiet of the empty house. It was the only sound I had heard for three days. A week ago, Clara, my wife, had bought an old-fashioned analogue television from a flea market, claiming its nostalgic fuzz was just what our living room needed. Now, it was a silent vigil, its screen a swirling vortex of gray and black that mimicked the storm clouds outside. I sat on the couch, watching it, waiting.
By khalilhoti5 months ago in Confessions
When Love Wasn’t Enough — But Still Everything
I never believed in “right person, wrong time” — not until I lived it. We met during a season of chaos. My life was a blur of unfinished healing and unspoken pain. He was focused, driven, but quietly tired — tired of expectations, tired of always doing what was right instead of what he truly wanted. Neither of us was looking for love. But love, as I’ve come to learn, doesn’t wait for your permission. It simply arrives.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Confessions
The Day I Learned That Healing Is Not a Straight Line
The Hook — Start With a Moment That Feels Real It was a Tuesday afternoon when I realized I had been holding my breath for months. Not literally — though my chest did feel tight — but in the way you hold your breath when you’re waiting for something to finally be “over.” The pain. The uncertainty. The mental noise that tells you, “Once this is done, you’ll be fine.”
By Mahmood Afridi6 months ago in Confessions
Why I Wait All Year for Autumn to Arrive
Every year, I find myself waiting. Not in an impatient, tapping-my-foot sort of way, but in the quiet anticipation you feel before your favourite song reaches its chorus. It’s a kind of longing that builds slowly through the blistering brightness of summer. I’m counting down—not to birthdays or holidays—but to that moment when the first leaf turns orange and drifts to the ground.
By No One’s Daughter6 months ago in Confessions
What I Learned From My Loneliest Night
It was winter, and the cold had a way of making everything feel sharper—every sound, every thought, every ache. I came home that evening to an empty apartment. No laughter drifting in from the living room, no phone ringing with a familiar voice on the other end. Just silence, deep and unbroken.
By Habib king6 months ago in Confessions
The Last Letter That Changed My Life
I found the letter on a rainy Thursday afternoon. It wasn’t supposed to be there. I was cleaning out the attic, surrounded by the smell of old wood and dust, when my hand brushed against an old tin box. Its lock was broken, and the lid creaked when I opened it. Inside were faded photographs, yellowed receipts, and, buried underneath them, an envelope with my name written in a handwriting I hadn’t seen in over a decade.
By Aminullah6 months ago in Confessions
Remembering Summer of 1967. Content Warning.
MAGA are building unwed mother's home again as they killed Roe vs. Wade. This is terrifying. I this from my heart and from my experience in the summer of 1967. My parents were conservative one day and liberal the next day. Watch the video. I worked 9 hours on this project.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 6 months ago in Confessions
Lipstick, low-rise jeans, and layoffs?
On wall Street, economists watch the charts and fret over the latest market signals. On TikTok, people watch lipstick sales, low-rise jeans, and viral “budget brunch” videos — and somehow, these amateur indicators are unsettlingly predicting the same thing: the economy isn’t doing too well.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Confessions
