Secrets
Logistics for Sluts
Last night I hit up seven different guys for a hook up. Most of them from my *BJ-only list. It's always tricky, timing wise, to send multiple homing pigeons to numerous recipients. Just how long should I wait after texting #1 (let's just refer to them by number, shall we) before texting #2, 3, 4.... I decided to let distance be my guide.
By Elle 4 years ago in Confessions
Your Safe
Trying to make sense of the things happening around me, as well as too me. I reach out to someone, who knows this place isn't safe. I mean he wont even come here, add in all the extra weird things that have developed, and there is no way the person I know, would believe I am safe. Plus who cares about anyone's opinion, me not feeling safe is enough, I don't need a co-signer for my feelings.
By I am me Amanda Nissen/Champion4 years ago in Confessions
You Got Out
Libby, I'm sure you've heard the story a million times, but once more can't hurt. My dad was gone when I was two months old, and I was five when Mom started dating your dad. I remember being six when she told me she was pregnant with you. I was a mixture of elated, nervous, and jealous. Here comes the new baby. The older sibling with no dad will no longer be the center of attention. But it was never like that with you.
By Brandy Enn4 years ago in Confessions
I Steal Glasses
I STEAL GLASSES. There, I said it and I am not ashamed. Let me explain. No, let me enlighten you! My husband and I have been together for 15 years. Dates are important to us; to all relationships, including friendships. A date, whether good or bad, is a chance to focus on one another and to create a memory. As long as you are with someone that you love, the date can’t ever be that bad. I love making memories, especially with my husband, and when we have a great time at dinner during one of our dates... I steal the glass!
By Tuesday Daily4 years ago in Confessions
My Imaginary Friend In My 30s
I can't believe I have a fucking imaginary friend!🤦🏽♀️ Shaking my head!, In disbelief at myself. I've always considered myself level headed, rational and all that shit the world considers normal, right., However!, In my late 30s whatever “it” is hovers over my every move. It doesn't talk to me or no shit like that, nor have I seen it,👀 not to my knowledge anyways🤷🏽♀️, neither do I talk to it., That cancels me out from being crazy right?!🤣., Doesn't it? I hope so! It's something like an angel so to speak because it watches over me? A spirit guide I don't remember asking for maybe?
By Jawana Davis4 years ago in Confessions
#1
Lately, I’ve been trying to come to terms with the idea of death. I feel a sense of dread whenever I think about it. Yesterday, I went to the wake of my ex-brother-in-law. He was only 49 years old. I was once again reminded of the thoughts I’ve been having. But as I reflect on many things in my life, I realized that death wouldn’t just come once. I realized that in my 40 years of existence I have actually already died many times.
By Roma RA4 years ago in Confessions
Smith’s Bar
Once upon a time, this place was my Cheers and my name is not Diane.. it’s Diana. I have plenty of stories on this joint. Hell’s Kitchen, NYC. I saw this bar go from rags to pretty dolled up rags I mean riches. That part of town has most certainly been dolled up in the recent years. I remember when Smith’s underwent renovations, it went from hole in the wall vibes to Broadway! Lots of big lights, we jokingly asked for bottle service when we really meant Heineken and Bud Light. Who introduced me to this joint? Just some guy who saved my life.. long story so I will take it nice and easy on you darling. Stay with me a while and I will share with you how I too found love in a hopeless place!
By The Vibe Podcast 4 years ago in Confessions
Having More Than One Resolution Per Year Is Useless
Like many, I grew up with a lot of expectations behind my back. Have you noticed that whenever you go through an emotionally difficult episode in your life, the people who gave you a hard time shape your personality? Pay attention to the voices in your mind the next time you’re ready to react, notice how they're someone else's voice—and not yours.
By Rabih4 years ago in Confessions
Rabid
Every day I wake up, and I breathe in the cold air. Just the way I like it. I never could stand the heat, maybe it’s because I put off so much of it myself. The heat disturbs me, and makes me feel uncomfortable. It dries me out and chaps my skin. I feel like a rabid dog. Desperate for water. Hot. Confused, and alone. Cold. Just the way I like it, or so I thought. Is it wrong to be upset? Or is it the way I express being upset? Where is the balance? Who am I, if not a rabid dog, tearing at my skin and reaching for the skies with my teeth. I want to bite the world, and make it leave me alone to my end. I thought I could change, I thought I could be better. I thought if I drank water, I would be able to choke out the words “I’m sorry”. All it does is choke the words down more. I want to bite the world, for leaving me alone. I don’t understand myself anymore, or if I ever really did. Do the people in my life? Do they know of the caged dog, foaming at the mouth, right in front of them? Do they know of my bloodied paws from the endless, fruitless scratching of the cage, of my skin? Do they know of the hoarseness of my throat from the endless, silent howling? How could they? I can only snap, snarl, and foam. I bite, because I cannot speak. I cannot speak, because I would only bite. Who am I, if not a pathetic victim on the leash I locked onto myself? I look down into the water that chokes me and I only see a stranger. Thin, twisted, nothing more than a snarling animal. I’ve always felt comfortable in the cold, as if the ice and snow were there to wrap me up in a blanket of sheer cold. Yet, now more than ever, I feel the wind. Where it used to soothe my skin, it now feels like a prison. It feels as though it has abandoned me, yet invited a stranger in to torture me. Why did I ever like it? I tear the hair from my head, release the blood from my veins. I gurgle and sputter on my own vomit. My body aches, groans, and collapses in on itself. Cold. I no longer like it. I am a traitor to myself. I am a traitor to those who believed in me. Where once they called me noble, loyal, with promise, there is only a dying creature lying before them. I wish they would put me out of my misery. I wish they would see a proud dog is still inside of my now corrupt, mangled form. He still howls, yet he is not heard. He still claws and bites, yet cannot escape. The blood begins to full my lungs as my head continues to ache. I cannot breathe. I cannot drink. I cannot sleep, and I cannot bear the cold any longer. It feels so cold, it burns now. I wander, and wander, yet the snow only gets deeper, and deeper. I can feel the frost in my bones. All that I will be lies in front of me. The nothingness of the dark, windy forest welcomes this once-noble beast. My skin feels tight, my mind feels heavy, and my bones ache to free themselves. I wish I could remember what I used to be, though my mind is nothing but mush now. I wish I could feel comfort in the cold again, though my body is crumbling. Who am I? A rabid dog? Or a man who cannot change? I howl, though the sound is lost to the darkness and the wind.
By Luis Perez4 years ago in Confessions
Happy New Year
I’m a high school teacher. Every year I get a week long break for Thanksgiving, 2 weeks for Christmas, 1 week for Spring break, and 2 months for summer. Most teachers would agree that the time off is never enough. I know that sounds crazy. All that time off and its not enough. But the emotional, mental and physical requirements of the job is insane. It’s not just about teaching, its about providing a safe and welcoming enviroment for over a 100 kids on a daily basis. We are therapists, parents, disciplinarians, comedians, actors, performers everyday, all day.
By Chaosstar4 years ago in Confessions
