Taboo
Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Witchcraft
When I think of religion, I automatically start asking questions. I’ve been asking these questions for the last forty-eight years. Have I found answers? I would say definitely yes, and I have discovered many answers. Have I uncovered this elusive “truth” of which everyone speaks? First, I must define Truth. When you are studying psychology, the definition of Truth is this: “Truth is a property not so much of thoughts and ideas but more properly of beliefs and assertions. But to believe or assert something is not enough to make it true, or else the claim that ‘to believe something makes it true’ would be just as true as the claim that ‘to believe something does not make it true.’ Therefore when I speak of Truth, it will be my Truth that I have experienced and seen with my own eyes. I will write using a year’s timeline to keep things consistent and linear and avoid confusion.
By VNessa Erlene4 years ago in Confessions
Moving forward, or standing still.
Maybe she had always wanted it, yet had been unable to detect the yearning she felt for it. As she looked back on all those years that seemed lost, she wondered where she had chosen the wrong side of the road. Had her decision to close herself off, to the world, been a direct result of her failed marriage, or was there more to it than that? The same memory would rise, over and over again.
By Marie-Claude Bernier4 years ago in Confessions
Mind and Body Self-Advocacy: A Story of Intergenerational Medical Neglect. Second Place in Sleep Resolution Challenge.
During my first week of college, my stomach began to hurt. It was more than a stomachache. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I couldn't focus in class or sit through welcome week experiences with other first-year students. All I could do was curl up with a heating pad.
By Regan Riehl4 years ago in Confessions
Night Train
Silent night’s such as these remind citizens of the reciprocity this city has to offer. Sometimes you're fed and sometimes you're fed on. Tonight I walk alone and typically it suits me. I admire my breath as it cuts through the dark air, warming the surrounding particles of soot that freely float around. The rain is late this year. It hasn’t performed it’s necessary task of washing clean urine and shit, both remnants of Indian summer. The days are becoming shorter now. It’s the season when fear rides my back. I know this autumnal specter well. It hovers, feeling slightly magnetic at the space where my shoulders meet my neck. This small dip gathers my skin creating a basin for the current to sit, awaiting a quick glance back at it. I am young enough. Pretty and brown. My hands and limbs know how to run and fight when called upon, but I am scared. Not without good reason.
By Seble Bissrat4 years ago in Confessions
The Truth
Ok, it’s time someone finally clears up the myths and stereotypes of drug addicts. When I read books and/or articles about drug addicts, I literally cringe and feel like screaming. So much is said about those suffering from addiction that just isn’t true. So let’s hear it from the heart of someone who has been there… ME.
By Samantha Cordle4 years ago in Confessions
Camping? Ew.
Why would I voluntarily live like a dog? Okay, so I don’t like hiking or camping. I have a debilitating fear of snakes, I had a very terrifying experience as a child on my great grandparents farm and I have anxiety attacks if there’s one in my immediate vicinity. Have you ever been surprised by a rattlesnake snap at you while you're behind a sliding glass door? The snake snaps as you fall backwards onto your grandmas hideous linoleum floor, while the snake waivers its head at you, watching you while the venom from its strike to the glass drips down like yellow syrup.
By Mae McCreery4 years ago in Confessions
