[14]
It was afternoon when I stepped into the little café near my workplace for a quick coffee break. The place was nearly empty, save for an elderly gentleman sitting by the window. He had a stack of newspapers in front of him and a cup of tea he seemed to have forgotten about. As I waited for my order, I noticed him struggling to unfold a page—it kept slipping out of his hands. Instinctively, I walked over and asked if he needed help. He looked up, startled, and then smiled. “These hands aren’t what they used to be,” he said with a chuckle. I sat down across from him, unfolded the paper, and handed it back. Instead of going back to my seat, we started chatting. He told me his name was Arthur, and he used to be a history teacher. He spoke about how much he missed telling stories about the past and how few people took the time to sit and listen these days. Our conversation lasted maybe 15 minutes, but in that short time, he lit up. His voice grew animated as he shared tales of students who made him laugh and lessons he wished he could teach again. Before I left, he said, “Thank you for listening. You made an old man feel a little less invisible today.” As I walked back to work, I couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t anything grand, just a small moment of connection, but it made me feel like I’d been part of something meaningful. It’s funny how little gestures—like unfolding a page—can make someone’s day, including your own.
[7]
The world as we know it, the lives we lead, where it all ends. Without pause, without a moments thought; endlessness.
[3]
If I feel like getting drunk by myself I will go to a gay bar rather than a straight one because I like the attention I get, it's more relaxed because I don't have to worry about drunk insecure dude brahs with something to prove, plus I can drink fruity drinks without being seen as less of a man.
[3]
I don't believe in an intelligent creator or anything like God. But this is an opportunity to get rid of this burden I know no one will hear or care, but I don't care anymore. I've become a pathological liar and I hate it. Every relationship starts off normal, but over time I tell a lot of lies about who I'm not and expect people's respect. I know that over time the person I really am will disappear and vanish. I'm scared. This distances me from reality and makes me lonely. I feel bad. Sometimes I dream of going to a place where no one knows me and living as a nobody. I think maybe the problem is in my childhood. But I know that this will be nothing more than an excuse. Now, I want to get rid of this fantasy world I created and be free. I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Oh.
[2]
I like to wear women's clothes, shoes, and accessories sometimes. I have even learned how to do makeup to look like a woman.
[2]
Around 7 pm today, I heard some knocking on my door. I opened it and it was my next door pregnant neighbour (she was, I think, in her 7th or 8th month). She was holding a small plate in her hand. In a very shy voice, she asked me if I can give her some of what ever I was cooking because she liked the smell. I think pregnant women sometimes have strong cravings and they can not resist it. Anyway, She was shy and apologised a lot for her request since we don’t know each other. I laughed and told her it is ok. I was cooking a traditional meal from my country and the recipe has olive oil, garlic, jalapeños and some spices. I think the smell was nice. I gave her some of my dinner then she left. I watched her walking home like a cute little penguin who’s happy with her successful little hunting. I felt really happy too for some reason.
[2]
Since the first time I met you, I knew there was something incredibly special about you. I didn’t know exactly what it was back then, but over time, it’s become clear to me. Being around you makes me feel happier, more grounded, and inspired to be the best version of myself. I find myself looking forward to every moment we spend together and replaying them afterward, just wanting to relive the laughter, the talks, and the quiet moments.
[1]
I spat on a fat, ugly, white baby this morning. I then proceeded to sip my coffee as if nothing happened.
[1]
I was at the park when a little girl toddled over, holding a bright yellow dandelion. She looked up at me, smiled, and said, “For you!” Her mom, trailing behind, apologized, but I waved it off, thanking the girl for her sweet gesture. She clapped her hands and ran back, giggling. That little dandelion stayed with me all day, a simple reminder of how pure, unexpected kindness can light up your heart.
[1]
I hate eating broccoli. it is green, smushy, tasteless, boring, ugly. I hate eating broccoli. it is green, smushy, tasteless, boring, ugly.
[1]
A few months ago, I called in sick to work because I just really didn’t feel like going. Harmless, right? Well, my boss texted me, "Feel better! What’s wrong?" and instead of just saying I had a cold or something, I panicked and said, "Stomach virus. Super bad." Big mistake. Next thing I know, my coworkers are sending me "get well soon" messages. One of them even offered to bring me soup. I felt kinda guilty, but it got worse. A week later, I was at a restaurant when I ran into my boss. He looked at me all concerned and asked, "Are you okay? You lost a lot of weight" Instead of admitting I was fine, I doubled down. "Yeah… it was rough. Barely ate for days." Now I’m stuck in this fake recovery story. My boss still asks how I’m feeling, and I have to act like I survived some life-threatening illness… all because I didn’t feel like working that day.