Humanity
The Writer's Dilemma
I am a writer. In all honesty, the signs were always there. Even now, I look back at my life and wonder why (or how) I didn’t see it sooner. When I was eight years old, I wrote a short story for my grade three assignment. While most children wrote about a page or two, I wrote thirty, with illustrations. Oh sure, it was obviously written by an amateur: spelling and grammatical errors, lack of proper story beats or theme, and I’m pretty sure I ripped off Dragon Heart (1996) and Return of the Jedi (1983). I remember the teacher once telling me I couldn’t read the whole thing to the class because it was too long and would take up too much time. Nevertheless, that short story filled me with pride, bringing a light to my otherwise dismal life.
By B.D. Reid4 years ago in Confessions
6 Things I want to Tell my Inner Child on Love, Life and Dreams
Dear Girl, It has been a long journey. I still remember standing in front of a hazy almirah mirror and declaring it to my friends that “I am my first best friend”. I was 15 years old. I smiled at the rather confused expression of my friends reflected in the mirror.
By Rashmi G4 years ago in Confessions
The Horrors of Men's Abuse of Power
Living life as a woman in this world is an extremely difficult thing to do. I wouldn't exactly call myself a femanist and I know that I am only just starting out on my life journey, however I have faced male enforced issues since youth.
By Kalla Lavender4 years ago in Confessions
What Many Refuse to Say
A man helped me in such a way that it will never be forgotten. I have cared for my family for over twenty years. At the age of eight, I obtained my first job. By the time I turned eleven, I purchased everything I needed for my first apartment. I wasn't thinking about a house. although, I was raised in a beautiful home in a country setting with both parents and siblings for playmates until, my dad and mother decided to separate, then divorce. My mother took the children, gave my dad the house and the property along side of it. Being so young, I could not understand why we were in a different city and my dad at home alone. I just wanted to go home to my dad, sit and watch television as I did from the age of four next my dad.
By Poetic Empress- Original4 years ago in Confessions
Open world
How did we go from and open world and feeling free, to a closed world and being told what to do when to do it and how to do it. I look at life as everyone in fear and just doing what there told. What kinda of life or future are putting forth for the next generations to come. There was a time when the people were proud and fearless. What happen to those generations oh wait they are either dead or old.
By Sara Kline4 years ago in Confessions
Stories Told From Balconies
I have the fondest feelings when it comes to balconies. Whether they be attached to an apartment complex or a three-story home, on the side or the front or the back of a building, it is an escape from reality for the storytellers, the daydreamers, and whomever is luckily enough to have one.
By Christina Stefanakou4 years ago in Confessions
When Your Muse Abandons You
Back in the fall of 2015, I was writing my National Novel Writing Month novel for the 6th year in a row, and as with the previous 5 years, I was confident I would be a winner (I normally end up writing about 80,000 words which is 30k over the 50k goal you need to reach to be declared a winner of NaNoWriMo).
By Caitlin McColl4 years ago in Confessions
Security
I love my job because I get to help people and get to keep people safe. As a security supervisor I always manage two security officers, and I secure three buildings of over seven hundred employees. I take care of employees with injuries and if there is an emergency. Sometimes my job is stressful but most of the time it is easy, and I get to watch cameras. I do not have too much interaction with the employees because by the time I come to work the employees are getting ready to go home. My hours are from 3 pm to 11pm, so most of my time is sitting watching cameras. I do have to patrol the buildings looking for leaks and emergencies and safety concerns.
By Sara Taylor4 years ago in Confessions
CASPER
Casper! What comes to mind? For me, the first thing that comes to mind is a cartoon character. You probably have heard of Casper the Friendly Ghost. It was a popular children's cartoon from 1945 to 1959. Unsurprisingly, childhood memories seem to stay with you through thick and thin.
By Babs Iverson4 years ago in Confessions
The Sweet Friend!
It was 2007 summer, as far as I recall and I came across magnifying glass. I remember crying for it and getting one. It was when I saw in a cartoon show and also in a story book, to find it intriguing to have one. Initially it was really tough to have to use it properly and under parental supervision but you know, the devil inside doesn’t stop, right?! Pardon, the child inside.
By Govardhan Pinni4 years ago in Confessions
A Story About Body Shame
Nathan got his looks from his father: his skinny body and his excessive body hair. In fact, he was one of the first boys in his year that had facial hair, the bold hairs sprouting in the eighth grade. It was the moment he first had to deal with being called a ‘lanky monkey’. His father felt like a road map for Nathan’s body, with the only current difference being the tops of their heads. Bald on the top with hair wrapped around the side like a desperate wreath, thin enough to let his big ears stick out. Nathan dreaded losing his hair.
By Janon4 years ago in Confessions
