Humanity
A love letter to bath bombs
It's February the month when we celebrate love! Loving yourself is one of the most important kinds of love that there is. It is easy to forget to take care of yourself in this crazy world. Self-care is more than a trend it's an essential part of preserving your mental health. There are many different forms of self-care. Some forms of self-care include exercising, keeping a journal and spending a day at the spa. I decided to write a love letter to one of the self-care items that I love the most! I used to just take showers until I discovered the relaxing powers of baths. Baths are great on their own, but they are pure luxury when you add other things to them like bubbles and bath bombs! Bath bombs come in many different colors, shapes, sizes, and scents. There is so much to choose from. It usually is not hard to find a bath bomb that is perfect for you. I hope my cute and fun love letter to bath bombs inspires you to add some beautiful bath bombs to your next bath or to at least put them on your shopping list.
By Christina Epperly4 years ago in Confessions
Being Homeless
What is it like to be without? What is it like to have to worry about a place to lay your head? Try it when you are on probation with a seven pm curfew and five to seven inches of snow falling. What are you to do? I over drafted my bank account and and checked into a hotel. This is the fourth time I have done this to keep from being homeless. What are you supposed to do?
By Lawrence Edward Hinchee4 years ago in Confessions
Were You Actually My Friend?
I thought for a while, that I was finally safe. Most of you only saw the aftermath of the wreckage. My heart, body, confidence and soul shattered and splintered. You saw the girl desperately trying to keep herself together with scotch tape when she needed something that'd bond it all back together with something stronger than gorilla glue. You tried, but - this was something I needed to fix on my own.
By Fira 4 years ago in Confessions
A peek into an antisocial arsehole
I'm not a fan of people. I don't like listening to endless stories of self worth or self pity, I don't like lies and all humans can't help but tell an abundance of them, and I hate falseness. No, I despise it. Not to say I don't enjoy the company of others at times, of course I do, but I like to choose who that company is and when I am going to be a part of it, (or allow them to be a part of mine).
By Kayleigh Taylor4 years ago in Confessions
I Wrote Two Poetry Books. 13 Years Later, They Are Sealed Away.
Poetry. The language of the universe. Almost 13 years ago, I began putting together my very first book. Fueled by all of the perceived “injustice” of the world around me, I felt as if I was a walking cliche for the longest time. Just another troubled, lovesick young man; looking for anything to grip to, and begin my own misadventures in… Poetry. Of ALL genres, right? I know.
By The Rogue Scribe4 years ago in Confessions
Imagine Being Laughed At
Around ten months before I started highschool, I auditioned to play in my future school’s strings ensemble and to be a cellist in their orchestral strings regional arts program. What a mouthful, right? The audition went like this: greet the teacher, play two scales, play a piece, talk about myself, get my loyalty to the crown (otherwise known as the expensive instrument i carried around) questioned, leave with a headache.
By Ako Smith4 years ago in Confessions
The "Pet Peeve" Edition. Top Story - February 2022.
Two years into this and everyone is annoyed, right? What were once minor grievances have now escalated to anger inducing tantrums. I don't go out much, but I did on Thursday. It had snowed, the roads were slippery and drivers had to be extra vigilant. I saw a small car (I mean small enough that even a child could reach the roof) coming towards me and the only snow that had been removed was what the windshield wipers had pushed off. A while ago, I would have just rolled my eyes. Three days ago, I saw fit to yell obscenities (pointless, I know - no one could hear me) and flip him the bird.
By Karena Graca4 years ago in Confessions
I Want to Be Over Racism
I could've grabbed the strap to my bag at any time The leather tote that held my small purse, laptop, iPad, and journal hung by one of its straps from my shoulder as I tugged my carry-on out of the airplane's overhead compartment. “I should fix that,” I thought. But the people behind me were waiting to join the slow queue shuffling down the aisle toward the jetway. I left the outer strap hanging as I steered my suitcase ahead of me like a sleepwalking toddler.
By Jan M Flynn4 years ago in Confessions
Steadfast & True
I feel like I have a giant, gaping hole in my chest. I thought would fix itself over time. But it feels like it's been ripped out of my chest, squeezed until every drop of blood left its cavities and then dropped on the floor. My chest feels hollow and dark.
By Fira 4 years ago in Confessions
A Dream About Cats and My Film Professor
Somehow extra cats were getting inside our house. I counted them… 1…2…3…9? How did 9 cats get in our house? And a raccoon? They were sleeping under the couch, reclining in chairs, and staring out windows. They slept on the floor, wandered around for food, and played with toys.
By Andrea Lawrence4 years ago in Confessions
Reading with Martín, the Boy Who's Best at Playing
Martín tells me he doesn’t want to learn to read, and he won’t need it in his life. “No?” I say, perplexed. It throws me. How do I prove to a TV-obsessed 8-year-old that reading will benefit him? I don’t want to tell him, “You’ll need it to get into college” or “If you don’t learn to read, you’ll struggle to even apply for jobs.” Those reasons feel too external, too capitalistic, not focused enough on the singular pleasure of reading good books.
By Lissa Bay4 years ago in Confessions
