Embarrassment
The Letters I Wrote But Never Sent
I never thought I would write letters. Not in an age of texts, tweets, and fleeting messages that vanish before they are even felt. But at seventeen, with restless hands and an aching heart, I found myself clutching a pen as if it could finally say what my lips never dared.
By Shehzad Anjum8 months ago in Confessions
Confessions of a Former Alcoholic Part 18
I said before that my ideas are the same sober or drunk. I now realize that it all comes down to spirituality and emotional management. I believe this is where the iron will comes from, although in the early stages of establishing willpower, it is best to avoid alcohol and cigarettes. This is not a priority for me since alcohol is permitted in my faith, but I have had no negative experiences with it; therefore, I cannot drink.
By TheNaeth8 months ago in Confessions
THE RACIAL BURDEN
Some people feel it every day, without knowing the name. Others learn about it through books or personal experience. The “racial burden” — or charge raciale, as French writer Douce Dibondo calls it — is the invisible weight carried by many people of color in societies where whiteness is the norm.
By Bubble Chill Media 8 months ago in Confessions
Your Biggest Teacher Will Always Be Pain
Introduction: The Shattering Sound of Silence Heartbreak doesn’t announce itself. It arrives quietly, like a thief, taking away the person you thought would stay forever. One moment, you’re making plans together; the next, you’re staring at your phone, reading a message that feels like a punch to the chest.
By Nadeem Shah 8 months ago in Confessions
The Lady in the Square
There was not a lot of joy in my hometown that day. I was a student, and I had to use the downtown core in order to earn some extra money for my studies. And it was a beautiful day in the city. The sun had hit us with more heat than we deserved, but I still had to dress fairly conservatively for my work (I was a runner at the library and would be brought to different floors to return and restack books, handle damaged material, and generally assure others that the library had no disturbances that did not require the security guards I never saw). That must have been the reason why there were so many conferences and meetings in our city. I knew vaguely of the gatherings at the convention centre and could see the people who huddled in the lobby of the hotel that was attached to the mall. But it had nothing to do with me or my work…or so I thought.
By Kendall Defoe 8 months ago in Confessions
I Slept With a Dead Man
I didn’t realize he was dead until morning. By then, the room had grown too quiet—too still in a way only absence can explain. The air had a weight to it, thick and unmoving. I lay beside him, still half-asleep, my arm draped across his chest, when I noticed the unnatural cold beneath my skin.
By Israr khan8 months ago in Confessions
Confessions of a Former Alcoholic Part 16
I just had the goal of becoming an academic and an innovator throughout my almost eight years at university. We were trained to be idealistic by our lecturers, among other things. Now that the romanticism is over, we must adopt a more practical perspective.
By TheNaeth8 months ago in Confessions
A Blue Memory
It started with a flying chair. August 1st, 2021 — the kind of humid New York summer night that sticks to your skin like sweat and nostalgia. The kind of night when possibility hangs in the air, draped in disco lights and drowned beneath the bass of a now-shuttered gay club whose name I can’t quite say without feeling a pinch in my chest.
By The Kind Quill8 months ago in Confessions
