Childhood
My Native Village
When it comes the matter of my native village, I can't refrain from speaking high of it because it is so in all respects. From the lush green agricultural lands to orchards, from irrigation canals to the Government Farms, from a Govt. Primary School to a College and Primary Health Centers, it has everything in its vicinity. O My God! I got swayed away with emotions and forgot to tell you the name of my village. Yes, it's Chhoti Tengraila under Naubatpur Police Station in Patna District.
By Nira Kumari5 years ago in Confessions
Forgot your PE kit again?
Those days of Physical Exercise. A light hearted look at PE in schools of the sixties. Two years ago I broke my big toe by dropping a cupboard door on it, it snapped in two and I was off work for a while, (about 8 weeks), now that toe has come back with a vengeance, I seem to have a touch of Arthritis in it which when throbbing is almost the same as gout.
By Eric Harvey5 years ago in Confessions
Shades of Blue
“Hey mom, could I dye my hair blue? You know like Sherri’s” I asked her one day on my way home from school. I was in the fourth grade and had been sick and the doctors didn’t know what was wrong with me. She said we’ll see and that she would talk to my dad that night about it. From what she has told me about the conversation with my dad, her pitch was that I had so much going on at the time and had so many tests coming up it’s not really a big request. They both were in agreement that if it made me happy I could do it.
By Michelle Taylor5 years ago in Confessions
My love for movies
Hi, my name is Emmanuel. Ever since I was 8 years old, I have always cherished and loved going to the movies. In my lifetime, I even had the pleasure of working at three different movie theaters 🎭. Everytime was a different experience, but easily the best jobs ever. Today I want to talk about the joy and pleasure of a great movie going experience.
By Emmanuel Bryant 5 years ago in Confessions
It started as shoe polish scribblings
Have you ever had that one thing that makes life feel like the first day of spring? It's that one thing you might not do for a living, or have time for as often as you’d like; as life at times gets in way. It's that thing you'll always want to bring up around people that interest you (those you may want to impress). Even if you’re a humble person it’s something you have at least the urge to express and share; even if you never do. As that thing makes you feel like you have the power to create, and to be a master of something no matter how profound or how simple it is. You love it because even if it's just for you, it’s worth getting excited about.
By Perrity Fowler5 years ago in Confessions
The Plastic Inevitable
“I love sharks. I adore sharks.” – Matt Hooper It is impossible for me to talk about the natural sea predators we all know and love without referencing that movie. I was a young child when I viewed it in our very dark basement, Quint, Brody and the above Hooper hunting down a Great White Shark that had very serious boundary issues and carried a terrible grudge. If I think about it now, it was also the first movie that I can recall that made me consider the importance of a soundtrack, or at least a theme. John Williams’ score haunts me to this day. As a teacher of media studies, I try to point out to my students the importance of music in the movies they love (Ben Kingsley, at an Academy Awards ceremony, once described music as “the perfume you take with you once you leave the theatre,” and I cannot improve on that). My regret as a child is that I had no idea that I could buy a copy of the film’s soundtrack and use it to terrify my family by playing it at inappropriate times on my cheap turntable (oh, the regrets of youth). But there is something else worth mentioning.
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Confessions
First Ice
Serenity one minute. Heart-pounding ecstasy the next. For an outdoorsy guy, there’s nothing like fishing on first ice. On Devils Pond, first ice is glass-smooth and sky blue. I drill my hole and sit down on my ice bucket stock-still—the fish below can hear everything. Whenever a walleye swims by a couple-few times, first ice is so clear, I can count his scales.
By Gale Martin5 years ago in Confessions
Fish Heads
That summer in Tobermory, I fished and crabbed behind the harbor wall or from the pier, and sometimes I took a rowboat out into the harbor. But mostly, I headed to the lighthouse. That summer was a typical affair if I don’t count the arrival of Lim-Tom, moving to the island from Sterling. Lim-Tom was Korean. It was my introduction to people who didn’t act, think, and look like me, white, dumb, and Scottish. There were, that I can recall, no intellectuals living on the island. Well, there was a young Jack Rafferty who always did well in exams. He grew up to become a police officer. Farming and fishing were the main work making up our community, and later, hoteliers. But at the time, there were no hoteliers.
By harry hogg5 years ago in Confessions
I write for people who are like me
I write characters and stories that are hard to write (for me). It’s exhausting to write happy people. It’s exhausting to write people fighting their way out of depression. It’s hard to move out of bed sometimes and open my eyes—-but I do it because that’s what thriving through pain is—-moving step by step each day to get by. To do each task and care for your family. I find it difficult to do anything sometimes, but I take deep breaths, and I do it. I try to do it well—-or least finish it to completion. This worldwide pandemic and the way everything feels slow and terrifying and unending—-it is hard to feel safe. But, with my friends and family, I can. Writing is my safeguard to keep me grounded as well.
By Melissa Ingoldsby5 years ago in Confessions
The Once Unknowns of My Life (Adolescence)
I will be writing a part 2 to this story, my adult life since graduation. I hope you will read this with an open mind. Every person in this world has lived with some form of struggle. Even those born into riches have their own struggles though many may not believe so. We struggle for food, money, understanding, even basal love. Many argue that they have it worse or their problems are more important but we all forget that what is a puddle to a Great Dane is a bottomless abyss to an Ant. I have always strived to see the world in that sense, understanding that everyone's needs and struggles though often similar are on completely different levels for each individual. That is why I want to write this now, to explain my own struggles even when they had never been acknowledge for so long. My entire life I was always told to 'shut up' or 'stop complaining' when I tried to talk about the things that bothered me or seemed off. I was told 'well it could always be worse' or 'you have it better than a lot of people' and after so long that broke me. I believed the problems I had were insignificant and that acknowledging them was me being a 'waste of life' as some had called me.
By Diahanne Raven5 years ago in Confessions
