Taboo
Marina Meets Taylor. Content Warning.
As much as I envy her lifestyle, I do fear that it will catch up with her one day! Marina lay comfortably stretched on her couch, with an excellent wine on the table beside her and the TV tuned to her favorite late-night show. She gently mused away and let her mind wander to all that could have been.
By Sacha Sutama4 months ago in Confessions
"DO NOT DO LAUNDRY AFTER 10 PM" [ II ]
Part Two — They Remember Their Owners I didn’t go near the basement for two days. I kept myself busy with work, cooking, anything that would keep me distracted. But every night, right at 10:03 PM, the apartment seemed to hum with something alive. At first, it was subtle — a faint vibration through the walls, like water running through old, tired pipes. Then, gradually, it grew louder. There was rhythm to it. A pulse. A steady, mechanical heartbeat that didn’t belong in any normal building.
By iam Raja4 months ago in Confessions
"DO NOT DO LAUNDRY AFTER 10PM" [ I ]
Part One — The Rule When I moved into Pinewood Apartments, I thought the creepiest thing about it was the smell — that strange cocktail of rust, detergent, and the faint sweetness of something old, like time had soaked into the walls and refused to leave. The building itself looked harmless enough: red brick, a few weeds sprouting between the cracks, a faded welcome mat that had seen better days. But then I saw the laundry room door.
By iam Raja4 months ago in Confessions
The Difference Between Hatred and Holy Intolerance
There is a dangerous confusion in today’s world. People are told that loving others means accepting everything they say, everything they do, and everything they believe. But love without truth is not love. It is surrender and cowardice disguised as compassion.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 months ago in Confessions
The Monsoon and the Memory. Content Warning.
July 12 A soft, percussive thud from down the street—the transformer giving up its ghost to the humidity—and suddenly, my world shrank to the four walls of my room, the only light a sickly grey bleed from the monsoon sky. The fan’s lazy whir stuttered and died, and in the silence it left behind, the rain took centre stage. It wasn't the gentle pitter-patter of romantic films; this was a full-throated roar on the terracotta tiles, a relentless, drenching downpour that turned the world outside my window into a watercolour painting left in the rain. Mumbai was drowning, and I was marooned in my third-floor apartment.
By Chahat Kaur4 months ago in Confessions
Word of the Day: 大混乱
I am sort of freaking out now because I my tutor canceled on me last minute. Not for tonight, I feel like I'll get my homework done on time. But I worry for my test on Wednesday. I have a very busy week ahead of me and I don't think I am going to have any time to study math properly.
By Kayla McIntosh4 months ago in Confessions
A Situationship. Content Warning.
October 15th It’s 2 AM. The city outside my window is a sleeping beast, all quiet hum and distant, lonely lights. I can’t sleep. My skin feels too tight, my thoughts too loud. It’s on nights like these that the memories don’t feel like memories at all. They feel like ghosts living just under my ribs, pressing to get out. And tonight, the ghost is him. Aarav.
By Chahat Kaur4 months ago in Confessions
The Yes Next Door. Content Warning.
We make it to the kitchen because water sounds wise and the bed was becoming a storm with no edges. The light over the sink is a warm coin; the counter is cool, slick under my palms. She hands me a glass and watches me drink like the act itself is foreplay. Maybe it is.
By Chahat Kaur4 months ago in Confessions
The Last Confession: I Burned the Box of Unsent Love Letters, And This is What Happened Next
For ten years, it sat in the back of my closet—a plain, battered cardboard box, stained at the corners from a forgotten spill. It wasn't full of letters I’d received, but letters I’d written, but never mailed. Love letters, apologies that choked in my throat, bursts of rage that evaporated into cold silence, and desperate pleas for attention. All directed at people who, thankfully or regrettably, never read them. It was, in essence, an archive of an alternate life I was always too terrified to step into.
By Hussein Gazo4 months ago in Confessions
Periods Aren’t Embarrassing — Men Are
I’m about to have a hysterectomy at 30. Not because I want to, but because my endometriosis has turned my uterus into a war zone. It’s the kind of condition that doesn’t just ruin days — it ruins years. My womb has been waging battle against me since I was thirteen, and I’ve finally decided it’s time to call a truce by surrendering it entirely.
By No One’s Daughter4 months ago in Confessions
The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli – Full Summary & Analysis. AI-Generated.
📘 Introduction: Why The Prince Still Matters Written in 1513 and published posthumously in 1532, The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli remains one of the most influential works in political theory. Often misunderstood as a manual for tyranny, the book is actually a pragmatic guide for rulers navigating the volatile politics of Renaissance Italy.
By TAPHA4 months ago in Confessions
