Humanity
Beginning of my Rapture
In the end; it all happened. Every scenario played out as if following a script written by all of my deepest, darkest, soul-sucking fears. The goblins that haunted the dark when I was young; the insecurities I developed from being continuously transplanted and having my roots ripped up with no soil or container to even move my battered nerves in...
By Alisa Miller5 years ago in Confessions
My Reward
Only those who live in the shadows of a real life can utterly understand how one simple little thing can make the difference between choosing to live and choosing to die. It does not have to be anything that would be considered important to someone else either. It only need be something that can be fixated upon throughout the day or the week, just getting through the hours until, voila, you have succeeded. One more day in the book of life.
By Melodee Olson5 years ago in Confessions
I Literally Don't Know What the Hell I'm Doing
I've caught myself saying this a lot lately. I think it even more than I say it. It’s new territory for me, for sure. I'm most comfortable with my head down and my feet on the ground. I like to know what I'm doing. Or rather, I like to have deceived myself into believing I know what I'm doing. The phrase "fake it till you make it" makes my skin crawl. I find it quite honestly to be a ridiculous request to be made of me.
By Ariel Joseph5 years ago in Confessions
Namaste paradox
A minute too late in the most literal sense. This was a story I tried to submit for the “create your happiness” challenge. My life has been turned every which way just in the last 3 months. Recently, I lost my grandmother: other half of my souls genetic make up. Her loss is the most impactful lesson I've endured to date; and to be quite frank, I've endured hell in the most literal sense. I have allowed myself to be in abusive relationships in every aspect, to be put in positions where i have to make myself feel smaller just so others could feel bigger. This entry could stem from the norm, as it's going to be in letter format addressed to her. All she wanted was to understand.
By Rebecca Carmen5 years ago in Confessions
Why Writing Is Hard
God, writing is difficult. For me, it's not the content. I have so many ideas and stories that want to be written. Anonymously, I could write for days. I have a multitude of novel-length documents hidden away in my computer files, short stories lurking in my Google drive, and essay's about controversial topics begging to be seen. All in all, I flourished in my English composition and fictional writing classes.
By A.R. Zeller5 years ago in Confessions
The Mind Hack of Being ok
When the rainstorms down and you are left in silence. Nothing but the boom of the storm and the honking of the cars. You lay at your little desk. An office of some sort. Ponding the boredom of life. Here is where it’s easiest to fall. So quick to cater to negative, intrusive thoughts. Being ok feels like you’re doing nothing. Doing the minimum or staying stable. The urge or lust for more also creeps up. Sometimes it does it at an enormous rate. Looking back at past experiences for no reason, remembering old fights that once made you mad. Opening up wounds that were already healed. All these possibilities and then some and for what, because you can’t handle the act of being ok.
By The Kind Quill5 years ago in Confessions
My Search for Inner Peace
I look at the newness of the pencil in my hand and smile. Graphite and clay combine to form long, elegant threads of pencil lead, capable of smirching the crisp, white paper I pull from the shelf. It will be worn soon enough, I think, as I piece together my thoughts and ideas and turn them into written words.
By Sandra Hudson5 years ago in Confessions
Survival Sometimes Means Having To Face The Most Impossible Circumstances And Having To Run Directly In The Opposite Direction Of What You Might Think Of Doing Before You're Faced With Making A Decision.
I've thought about this for a while, and I think it is a story worth telling. This is a story of survival, mental health battles, trauma, and loss. I say survival first because that is the most important part of this story or any story in this crazy world, survival.
By Jason Ray Morton 5 years ago in Confessions
Real life short story
How to really start? My life has always been filled with an odd amount of first person tragedy but, I know I'm not the only one. At the young age of seven I was hit by a car, tossed in the air like a ragdoll, broken left femur bone, ten skull fractures and two months of coma. Luckily I didn't suffer to much brain trauma but, I don't remember much of my childhood, even after the accident and still to this day I have some short-term memory loss. A few years later while playing on a swing, I decided to jump out of the swing, which I'm sure we all did, and my foot caught the swing, sling shots me to the ground and breaks my left forearm.Clean break. As I think back on it I surprisingly don't remember it actually hurting, I heard the snap and couldn't feel my arm but the panic overcame the pain I guess. Didn't learn anything. Still did dumb stuff thru my teens but no severe injuries, amazingly. I turned eighteen and met this beautiful woman who is now my wife, but in two thousand and five, around Halloween, leaving a party in the middle of the night after, unfortunately, drunkenly, slapped my girlfriend and karma slapped me back. BAM! Hit by another car. Tore the left calf muscle completely from the two broken shin bones, ten more skull fractures and a punctured lung. Doctors not able to find the puncture, my family and girlfriend were struck with the fact I may not make it. Miraculously the hole healed itself but, with all the damage there was still a chance I wouldn't make it. By God's grace I did. While healing and my girlfriend losing her apartment,we moved in with my parents for a while then her mom's.
By Tyler Dezern5 years ago in Confessions
I REACH MY HIGH WHEN I AM ALONE
I am a woman of many gifts and talents. I don’t mean to brag, but I write, draw, dance, cook, do hair nails and makeup, poetry, act, design clothes, facilitate programs, give inspirational speeches, counsel, de-esculate, teach, rap and sing. Lastly, I took piano lessons, but I “play by ear,” better than “by the book.” So, it’s safe to say I can play an instrument too.
By Beautiful Intelligence5 years ago in Confessions
The Way
Every day we JUST ... LIVE... LIFE. We sleep, work, eat, clean, sleep, work, eat, clean and just keep repeating that over and over, day after damn day. We get used to it, as we are raised/conditioned to study hard in school to get into college, go to college to get a good paying job, or get into the trades, regardless of the type of employment we are working 5 days a week 8 hours a day (and that is not even the norm any more, some people are working 6 to 7 days a week and endless amount of hours). We are beating our brains, bodies and sanity into the ground. All for that pay check to pay the bills, to have the big fancy house, the luxury vehicle. Some are working to just to barely survive, barely coming up with the rent/mortgage, food, clothing, putting gas in their vehicle.
By Melanie Sorockti5 years ago in Confessions
