Bad habits
What Empathy Taught Me About Judgement, Synergy, and Human Differences.
With time; life teaches us lessons that no classroom ever could. One of the most powerful lessons I have ever learned is the value of empathy - how deeply it can transform the way we see others, ourselves, and the world around us.
By CIM5 days ago in Confessions
I Never Expected a Stranger to Teach Me This Lesson
I Never Expected a Stranger to Teach Me This Lesson BY: Khan Sometimes the people who know nothing about us leave the deepest impact. I used to believe that the most important lessons in life came from people we knew well â family, close friends, teachers, maybe even heartbreaks. I never imagined that a complete stranger would be the one to shift my perspective in a way no one else ever had. It happened on an ordinary evening that I almost didnât remember. I was sitting at a small roadside cafĂ©, exhausted after a long day that felt heavier than usual. Life wasnât falling apart, but it wasnât exactly coming together either. I had been working tirelessly toward goals that seemed to move further away every time I thought I was getting closer. Rejections had become routine. Motivation had turned into obligation. And somewhere in between, I had started doubting myself. The cafĂ© was half empty. The sound of traffic hummed in the background. I stared into my untouched cup of tea as if it held answers. âLong day?â The voice startled me. I looked up to see an older man standing beside my table. He wasnât dressed in anything remarkable â simple shirt, worn shoes, calm eyes. I nodded politely. âYou could say that,â I replied. He smiled gently and asked if he could sit. Normally, I would have refused. Iâm not the kind of person who easily opens up to strangers. But something about his presence felt unthreatening â almost comforting. So I agreed. We sat in silence for a moment. Then he said something unexpected. âYou look like someone whoâs carrying a question you donât know how to ask.â That caught me off guard. I laughed awkwardly. âI guess Iâm just tired.â âTired,â he repeated. âOr disappointed?â I didnât know why, but his words unlocked something. Maybe it was because he didnât know me. Maybe it was because he had no expectations of who I was supposed to be. Whatever the reason, I found myself speaking honestly. âIâve been trying really hard,â I admitted. âBut nothing seems to work. It feels like Iâm stuck. Like maybe Iâm not meant for what I want.â He listened carefully. Not the kind of listening where someone waits for their turn to speak â but the kind where someone truly hears you. After I finished, he nodded thoughtfully. âTell me,â he asked, âwhen you first started chasing this goal, why did you want it?â The question felt simple, yet I struggled to answer immediately. âBecause I believed I could do something meaningful,â I finally said. âBecause it felt right.â âAnd now?â âNow it feels exhausting.â He smiled softly. âSometimes,â he said, âwe donât get tired of the dream. We get tired of doubting ourselves.â His words stayed in the air. He went on to tell me a brief story about his own life â how he once left a stable job to start something risky. How he failed. How people laughed. How he almost gave up. And how the lesson he learned wasnât about success or failure â it was about identity. âI realized,â he said, âthat I was measuring my worth by outcomes. But outcomes are temporary. Effort is character. Persistence is character. Even failure is character. If you only feel valuable when you win, youâll feel worthless most of the time.â I felt that sentence deeply. For months, I had been tying my confidence to results. Every rejection felt personal. Every delay felt like proof that I wasnât good enough. I had forgotten that growth rarely looks glamorous. âYou know,â he added, finishing his tea, âthe world doesnât decide who you are. It only reacts to what you keep showing up for.â That line shifted something inside me. We talked for another fifteen minutes. Nothing dramatic. Nothing life-changing on the surface. Just calm conversation. When he stood up to leave, he gave me one last piece of advice. âDonât quit on yourself during a slow chapter. Stories need those parts too.â And then he walked away. I never saw him again. But I carried that conversation home with me. That night, instead of replaying my failures, I replayed his words. I realized that I had been expecting progress to look loud and obvious. I had been expecting reassurance from the outside world. What I truly needed was internal steadiness. The stranger didnât solve my problems. My goals didnât suddenly become easier. But something important changed â my mindset. I stopped asking, âWhy isnât this working for me?â And started asking, âWhat is this teaching me?â The difference was powerful. Weeks later, opportunities began appearing â not because life suddenly felt sorry for me, but because I showed up differently. I stopped carrying desperation. I carried quiet confidence instead. Sometimes I wonder who that man was. Maybe he was just someone passing through. Maybe he had no idea how much his words mattered. But thatâs the beauty of it. We donât always get lessons from people who stay in our lives. Sometimes they come from those who cross our path briefly, say exactly what we need to hear, and disappear. I went to that cafĂ© feeling stuck and unseen. I left realizing that my value was never on trial â only my patience was. And all it took was a stranger to remind me.
By Khan 8 days ago in Confessions
What in Me Refuses Silence
On Earth, what seems earthly â a place and a being â appears logical. Yet what could it have sworn to remain, if even words eventually change? What seems like solid land may slide away; the earth itself may become none â not absent, but nonexistent in the way only believed things can become nonexistent.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH9 days ago in Confessions
The Town That Had to Be Erased
The Town That Had to Be Erased Times Beach, Missouri â and the Cost of a Cheap Solution If you drive along Interstate 44 southwest of St. Louis and take the exit toward Eureka, youâll find yourself near a quiet stretch of land hugging the Meramec River. There are trails now. Trees. Picnic tables. Cyclists moving along paved paths. Families unloading kayaks.
By Dakota Denise 10 days ago in Confessions
The Gaddafi Model Revisited: Is Iran the Next Target in a Global Power Strategy?
The Gaddafi Model Revisited: Is Iran the Next Target in a Global Power Strategy? In recent geopolitical debates, a controversial phrase has resurfaced: the âGaddafi Model.â Originally linked to Libyaâs decision in the early 2000s to dismantle its weapons of mass destruction programs, the model is now increasingly referenced in discussions about Iran. The implication is clearâintense pressure, isolation, and forced dismantling of strategic capabilities may once again be used as tools of regime control. As tensions rise in the Middle East, the question is no longer theoretical: could Iran be facing a similar fate, and what role do regional powers like Pakistan play in this unfolding strategy?
By Wings of Time 13 days ago in Confessions
Survived a Life That Tried to Break Me. Content Warning.
Content Warning: This story discusses forced marriage, abuse, and psychological trauma. I want to confess so that I can finally find peace. I feel invisible. This feeling has haunted me since childhood. I have always felt like nothing, even though I grew up in a conservative family where they believed they were teaching me values and principles. In reality, being a girl meant oppression and control. What they called âdisciplineâ was slowly destroying me from the inside. This was the worst feeling I have ever experienced. I wanted to escape my motherâs cruel hell by any means necessary. Yes, she was cruel and heartless. Her cruelty came from her fear of my father, but I understood this far too late. I never understood why she was so afraid or so excessively strict. I suffered in silence, blaming her because I never felt her affection. The worst thing she did was marrying me off at a very young age. It was an injustice, an injustice to a teenage girl who knew nothing about marriage. I couldnât refuse. I couldnât even speak. My mother slapped me and threatened me until I accepted without saying a word. Yes, I married a man much older than me , a man the same age as my father. I could never love him. I could never be his wife. I was innocent, naĂŻve, and unprepared, and he mocked me and treated me cruelly. I hate him deeply.
By Midnight Lines14 days ago in Confessions






