Bad habits
Joker
Every evening, when the lights of the old circus turned on, he stepped onto the stage with painted lips and a forced smile. Children laughed, adults clapped, and the world believed he was the happiest man alive. His jokes were loud, his actions silly, and his laughter contagious. But behind that colorful mask lived a heart full of silence.
By shaoor afridiabout a month ago in Confessions
USA, Israel, and Iran-What’s Really Happening
Tensions in the Middle East: USA, Israel, and Iran — What’s Really Happening In the past few days, international attention has focused on a high-profile meeting between Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former U.S. President Donald Trump at Trump’s private estate in Florida. The talks were not about routine diplomacy — they centered on growing concerns over Iran’s ballistic missile and nuclear programs and how the United States and Israel might respond.
By Wings of Time about a month ago in Confessions
Who a person is to begin with
I recently entered into an argument with a long time friend, we argued about politics and on our point of view when it came to global politics happening right now in the world, I’ll spare you the details, the main point was I disagreed with how it was being done meanwhile he agreed.
By real Jemaabout a month ago in Confessions
The Quiet Power of Presence: Trust, Desire, and the Weight of Being
I can still feel the chill of that evening, the way it made my skin keenly aware of itself. I leaned against the balcony railing of a small apartment, watching the streetlights flicker below, glowing softly through the dimming dusk. He was there, a few steps away, his gaze on the streets as if he could read the rhythm of life beneath him. There was nothing performative in his posture, no dramatic gesture to draw attention. Yet the way he existed in that space—calm, grounded, and unassuming—pulled me in. I became painfully aware of how his presence shaped the air around him, shaping me in subtle, unnameable ways.
By SATPOWERabout a month ago in Confessions
The Unspooling Hour
The dust motes in the weak afternoon light danced, suspended, just like everything else in this goddamn house. Especially me. The air itself felt thick, like old velvet. My eyes, they just slid back to it, always back to the grandfather clock in the corner. Heavy oak, dark with age and neglect, its face a cracked porcelain moon. Most clocks, they tick forward, right? Mark the passage, the relentless march. Not this one. This one, the second hand, it dragged itself counter-clockwise. Minutes, hours, days, peeling back like old wallpaper. It wasn’t a trick of the light, wasn’t my tired eyes. It was real. A quiet defiance of everything. A promise, maybe. Or a cruel joke, I still haven't figured that out, even now, with the taste of ash in my mouth. My fingers trembled on the armrest, the worn fabric shedding little threads. Little pieces of everything.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
The Shard Keeper
It's just glass, really. But I call them flowers. Crystal flowers. Thousands of them, tucked away in this shed out back, where no one ever looks, where no one ever *will* look. They shimmer, you know, when the weak afternoon sun hits that crack in the corrugated steel, throwing slivers of light across them. They sparkle, each one cut, ground, polished, a sharp, perfect bloom. And each one, a goddamn lie.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Confessions
World War 3: Why the Fear Is Growing, Why the Future Is Not Decided
World War 3: Why the Fear Is Growing—and Why the Future Is Not Decided In recent years, the phrase “World War 3” has moved from history books into daily conversation. It appears in news headlines, political speeches, social media debates, and comment sections across the internet. For many people, it represents a growing fear that the world is drifting toward another global catastrophe. But fear alone does not explain why this idea has become so powerful—or why it demands careful discussion rather than panic.
By Wings of Time 2 months ago in Confessions
Mirror, Mirror: The Long Road to Reconciling with the Body I Tried to Hide for Years. AI-Generated.
Encrypted Invisibility: Years of Living Behind a Firewall Amid the cold clamor of the city, the silence of the system became my only sanctuary. My clothes were never merely fabric; they were layers of code I programmed to shield myself from the intrusive scans of strangers. Every oversized sweater and pulled-up hood served as a physical firewall, encrypting my existence and filtering the world’s harsh gaze. To the public, I was a ghost in the machine—a stray packet of data lost in transmission. I stopped viewing my body as a living, evolving entity, seeing it instead as legacy hardware: a system riddled with vulnerabilities no patch could ever fix. I wasn't seeking maintenance; I was waiting for a total migration, a final shutdown. Existing in power-saving mode, I remained completely withdrawn, guarding my core from the corrosive eyes that sought to dismantle me.
By Mohammad Hammash2 months ago in Confessions
