Humanity
Matter to Me
Can you see and hear clearly? I did not for 18 years of my life and the truth of it came to me slowly but surely crushed my sense of self. Although, I was lucky to be alive and even far from living. I am grateful for the struggles of my past because they left me empty and open to change. At this point, I knew I wasn’t the only one suffering, but I desperately wanted to be okay. I started to lose control of my two-faced secrets and image management. My college experience was disastrous and that meant a lot to someone like me. I realized that I really needed to transfigure my ugly insides that were seeping out into the world. A little bit of willingness and a whole lot of brokenness motivated me to spend more energy to become self-aware and do things differently. I fought 15 years through the symptoms and stigma of mental illness before I gave up my way of life. I was a worker, a student, a daughter, and a friend that desperately needed help. My environment didn’t show me support, but that’s okay because I became stronger and more confident from practicing bravery. I handled it with my best shot at love and light, and I feel more than okay now. I never want anyone to feel as alone and misunderstood as I did. Everyone could use a helping hand, so I’m working to create a site that is exactly that and then some.
By Juliette Garcia5 years ago in Confessions
Lover’s Lips
Lovers Lips The sounds from a lover’s lips wept with tragedy run dry. They are longing to be loved again. Can anyone feel their pain? Sleepless nights a lover’s quarrel carried upon them a near ending of one's attempts living in a Petri dish size world, trying to break free of this ever so filled make believe mimes box.
By Corinne Del Cid5 years ago in Confessions
The lost locket of Eden
Lost Locket of Eden Unwillingly I said goodbye to him as he rushed out the door again, my intuition reminding me yet again that I was only being used as a stepping stone, a means to an end. I know he will never love me the way I love him, but during this nightmare amongst us those who are remaining cling to any bit of love, friendship or vice that keeps us just that little bit sane while feeding us hope at the same time. Even the strongest are hanging on by a thread. There are not many of us left here in my home town, having connection is difficult as it feels like we are all in a race against time with each other. I've stopped keeping track of what level I am on now. It was a couple months ago when i unlocked my first set of abilities, I keep that information to myself till I completely understand how I am supposed to be using them and why. Another factor is if your doing well and having successful missions and wins it makes you an easy target around here.
By Alyssa Sullivan5 years ago in Confessions
Vocal I Tip My Hat to You Even as I Burn in Rage at You
I have to give credit where credit is due. After three of my first six submissions were rejected for content related reasons, two for "religious content" and one for "graphic material content" at least the crew at Vocal media have the stones to publish my reworked pieces in which I was more than a bit critical of these ridiculous, arbitrary, and totally not possible to enforce fairly policies. I guess these "rules" are supposed to be in place to prevent the publication of "controversial" content which might offend the fair and tender youth who frequent this very popular (lol!) new media website. They are well known to wither and faint at the very thought of a graphic description of oral sex or the dropping of a non redacted F-bomb. And heaven forbid (oops, religious content) any discussion of religion might be forced upon their agnostic and atheistic impressionable minds. What would their friends and family think if they knew their own pals and sons and daughters were accidentally exposing themselves to religious content. The horror! The fact that I, possibly one of the least religious people on the planet, had not one but two stories rejected for religious content, is irony of the highest order. So ironic in fact that the very definition of irony itself might have to be adjusted and expanded to account for it. Perhaps even a new word is in order. How about ultrirony (short for ultra-irony). I like it, I like it a lot. It certainly was an ultrirony in addition to being ultrididuclous, ulttridumb and ultratarded. I cannot believe that in this day an age a corporation with any sense, and any sort of competent legal team, would believe they could actually get away with something like this. We are talking about old school, old fashioned, classical censorship right out of George Orwell. If it wasn't so sinister I would laugh at how unbelievably insane it is. Crazy indeed. And don't even get me started on the 600+ word count minimum. What the frack is that all about? Gheesh. Right now I am really wishing Medium would not have suspended my account. For the second time. Buttfaces. lol!
By Everyday Junglist5 years ago in Confessions
Becoming an American
I am celebrating my birthday today and I have now lived in the US more than I lived in my native country, Egypt. I am proud of being a naturalized American citizen but my journey of becoming integrated in the American society was not an easy one.
By Asiya5 years ago in Confessions
Madness of Rage
"How's your beer?" "I'm good." It had become the phrase that we spoke to each other, mostly manners but really just a habit. Mike and I were playing cribbage and drinking beer in my kitchen. When lockdown came it would break up the monotony of him sitting at home. We would play a couple of games and talk about different things. I would tell him stories from my past. He mostly talked about his kids or his family. He had been a bit distracted the last couple of times he had been over. His Mom had recently lost a foot to diabetes. She was slowly getting back to normal after getting out of the hospital. She was going to get a prosthesis fitted and Mike and his step-dad had made some modifications to the apartment to ease her day.
By Bill Kelly5 years ago in Confessions
Things I regret now that I'm 29
This week I turn 29 years old. Typically, celebrating my birthday has always been a positive experience for me. I would make a countdown starting at the beginning of the month and announce to my family everyday how many days were left until my special day. This year however my birthday is joined with a bitter sadness as we held a funeral for my step dad who attempted suicide this year after a hard and tragic struggle with alcoholism and prescription meds. On Father’s Day weekend, we held a tree planting ceremony for my step dad in 115ºF weather in the Las Vegas desert, coming together for the first time in over a decade. Seeing all of my extended family again had all the opportunities to catch people up on my life. The last they saw me I was a young teen, graduating high school, fresh eyed and ready for anything. Now I am 29, two kids, married, and burying the ashes of my step father under a tree at a park he was responsible for landscaping. The conversations that insued about myself and my step dad led me to thinking about where I was now that I am 29 and where I want to go next.
By Rhea Sunshine5 years ago in Confessions
Odd One out
In my world, I have always had trouble fitting in. Whether it’s because I’m vastly different from the person I’m surrounded with or unwilling to conform to their version of normal, I’ve just never fit. This has been never more clear than the first initial months of my former job.
By InkGalaxies~5 years ago in Confessions
A Woman and Her Fears
Here fear doesn’t define only the fear of being tortured physically. It is about violating the liberties of a woman, Restriction to openly speak. If this fear of the women of the country is not eradicated, then the dream of women empowerment will remain dreams.
By Unbounded Soul5 years ago in Confessions
Bless your heart.
I'll never forget meeting my ex boyfriend's family in Cington Georgia. It was 1978 and I was twenty three years old. I had never been to Georgia and my only association was peaches. I was excited to taste one fresh from a farm. The land was rolling hills, often thick with kudsu. It felt wet and dense. We were deep in the country and the history and energy of it was quite old. Very Southern Baptist.
By Susan Kulkowitz5 years ago in Confessions
