bullying

The Wet City's Blueprint
Leo’s back screamed. Three AM. The fluorescent tubes above hummed, a flat, sickly sound that had burrowed into his skull hours ago. Empty instant ramen cups, a discarded bag of stale potato chips, and a mountain of crinkled tracing paper formed an archeological dig around his workstation. He was just another ghost in the architecture studio, one of the dozen or so still clinging to their desks, fueled by caffeine and the sheer terror of Friday’s final review.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Weight of Light
The air in Silas’s workshop always hung thick with the tang of dust, spent flux, and something else, something sharp and cold, like splintered winter. Jory wiped sweat from his brow with the back of a hand, leaving a smear of grime. Another failure. The crystal shard, meant to be a delicate petal, lay on the scarred workbench, a jagged, useless ghost. It looked like it had exploded inward, a star collapsing, but it was just Jory’s clumsy grip, his too-much pressure, his desperate impatience.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Static Field and the Flicker
Unit 734 knew its purpose. It was etched into its core programming, hardwired through every circuit: analysis, optimization, maintenance. Its days were a perfect loop of sensor input, data collation, and predictive output. It managed the climate control for Sector Gamma-7, a sterile corporate wing where humans made noise and drank bitter liquid. Its world was logic, clean and irrefutable. Every nanosecond accounted for. Every variable quantified. There was no room for error, no capacity for deviation. It was efficient.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Unwound Hour
Leo existed in a haze of stale coffee and 'what-ifs.' His apartment, a single room above a laundromat, smelled perpetually of damp socks and cheap detergent. Twenty-four years old, a college drop-out, working the graveyard shift at a gas station that saw more shadows than people. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant siren, felt like a reminder of a wrong turn, a path not taken. The regret was a dull ache behind his eyes, a constant pressure he couldn't shake. He’d messed up, plain and simple. Fumbled the ball. And now, the clock just kept on ticking, taking him further and further from a past he desperately wanted to amend.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Ghost in the Margins
Elias felt the weight of the institution press down on him, a heavy, velvet cloak he hadn't earned. His scholarship, a thin thread, tied him to this grand, cold place, to the towering ceilings of the university's main library. January wind howled outside, rattling the ancient panes, but inside, a deeper chill settled in his bones. He stared at the blank page on his notebook, then at the wall of books before him. Hundreds of thousands of minds, packed spine-to-spine, silently judging his empty head, his fumbling efforts to grasp what they all knew.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Backward Tick
Elias sat on the edge of his worn couch, the late afternoon sun a thin, dusty stripe across the linoleum floor. Another shift at the warehouse, another ten hours of moving boxes, of feeling his youth seep out through his pores with every bead of sweat. He was twenty-nine, and the closest thing he had to a career was the faint smell of cardboard that clung to his clothes. He thought about the college classes he'd dropped, the half-finished novel on his hard drive, the promises he'd made to himself that felt like ancient history. The clock on his phone, 4:17 PM, felt like a cruel joke, each tick a reminder of what was slipping away.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Student Who Asked One Question
M Mehran On the first Monday of September, Ms. Harris walked into her classroom and immediately noticed the empty chair in the back.
By Muhammad Mehran2 months ago in Education
The Classroom With No Doors
M Mehran When Maya stepped into Room 12 for the first time, she thought she had made a terrible mistake. The walls were bare. The desks didn’t match. The single window looked out onto a parking lot. And the class list—oh, the class list—read like a challenge written by someone who doubted she’d last until October.
By Muhammad Mehran2 months ago in Education
The Architect of Puddle-Light
The city hummed a low, constant thrum, a sound Lena knew better than her own heartbeat. It was past midnight, and a fine, persistent rain had begun its descent hours ago, coating the asphalt in a slick, dark sheen. From her window, eight stories up, the world was a canvas of blurred luminescence. Neon signs, once sharp declarations of commerce, now bled into one another, creating rivers of distorted color down the glass. Lena leaned her forehead against the cool pane, the chill seeping into the bone-deep weariness that had become her most faithful companion.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Education
The Echo Chamber of You: How Social Media Alchemy Turns Loneliness into Performance. AI-Generated.
We are living through the great performance. Every day, billions of us take the raw, chaotic, often mundane material of our lives and run it through a digital refinery. We filter, crop, edit, and caption, transforming quiet evenings into #selfcare rituals, solo coffees into #latteart moments, and pangs of loneliness into curated narratives of resilient independence. Social media has gifted us a powerful, seductive alchemy: the ability to transmute the base metal of our lived experience—including our isolation—into the gold of social capital. But in this relentless pursuit of digital affirmation, we are committing a subtle but devastating act of self-betrayal. We are outsourcing our sense of worth to an audience of spectators, and in the process, forgetting how to simply be.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
Swipe Left on Reality: How Dating Apps Are Engineering Loneliness. AI-Generated.
We carry a universe of potential partners in our pockets. With a casual flick of a thumb, we can approve or dismiss dozens of people in minutes, judged on a split-second impression of their best-angle, best-light, best-life self. Dating apps promise a solution to age-old human longing, offering efficiency, scale, and control. Yet, beneath the glossy interface of curated profiles and algorithmic matches, a more troubling story is unfolding. Far from fostering connection, the very architecture of these platforms may be engineering a new form of loneliness—one characterized by phantom abundance and a paralyzing fear of settling, turning the search for love into a dehumanizing game of endless consumption.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
"THE LIFE OF A FOOL" REVIEW BOOK
Akutagawa Ryunosuke’s short story collection “The Life of a Fool” is imbued with the spirit of worshiping pure beauty. Because Akutagawa is a person who has spent his whole life pursuing absolute beauty with the concept of “art for art’s sake”. Because of this literary concept, Akutagawa has always been considered a madman, a person who cannot be accepted by the social crowd.
By HieuDinh2 months ago in Education