Secrets
The Kitchen Porter and Lucy
Past lives and parallel dimensions are often a complicated affair of imaginings and twists of fate with no rose tinted spectacles or psychic phenomenon but just two hearts meeting after many years and then some directed to change history and stay with fate. I guess I met K.P in my dreams, he introduced himself as the Kitchen Porter who would help me to do all the jobs but mainly K.P taught me to survive, he was army trained tough and a street urchin, who was dragged up. He lurked in hotel kitchens had the most naughty sense of humour and knew me intimately, he was sort of the elf in my head for years. He started to taunt me in the street verbally in 2001 , but really our story starts in 1937 in Berlin, K.P was a civil servant working for the British government, for Neville Chamberlin trying to find out Hitler's next move, a dashing dark haired sexy man with eyes like onyx stones moody and shifting with his surroundings. He would come to our bakery for fresh bread every few days. And would return to send telegrams across Europe . He owned the smartest car in my block. He came to me in the most unexpected way, like a beautiful knight, but also a life saver . I descended from a long line of Jewish bakers and my parents and grandparents were literally the best cake makers in Germany, we were notorious in our community for creating mountainous wedding cakes and red velvet icing to swoon over. As Nazism swept through my street and destroyed my father's business, K.P, who prevented my beating by an SS officer was there to save me from execution and death. I have present memory flashbacks of this and my dreams are lucid, a week later we drove to the British embassy in a taxi and after my parents were sent to Switzerland, where my grandparents used to be the owners of the bakery they were getting too old to run it so my parents took over. My grandparents moved to Switzerland. I was adopted quite unceremoniously by K.P after my parents asked him to adopt me aged 5.
By Alison Slack4 years ago in Confessions
Journal Entry 6
11/11 Today, I felt so strange. Almost, as if, I can feel the change coming but I don't know what it is. It scares me a little bit and makes me kind of anxious. I am trying my best to stay motivated and keeping myself healthy but that does not always go well.
By for my mental health4 years ago in Confessions
My Friendship with The One...
He was that guy. That guy that was always available, but the one I could never have. It's been over 13 years since I last saw him. Even then he was available and yet I was not. The timing never struck right for us. There was always something - there was always someone. But we always kept in touch. Through the years, no matter how many miles between us, whenever he would call, I was there. Whenever I would call, he was there.
By Abbey Streett4 years ago in Confessions
SHE
I see her every day. Every day I give her a fake smile, and every day she fake smiles back. When I think she’s not looking, she is. Even when I look away. She imitates the way I walk, how I dress. She’s got my makeup routine down to a science. It’s crazy how she thinks she can be me. Mimicking the way I talk and all my mannerisms. It’s sad. She has no idea how to be her own person. How insecure.
By AngeOnymous4 years ago in Confessions
Vocal Hides My Secrets
I find it kind of funny. It seems a bit contradictory. I'm here, writing on Vocal, hiding behind a pen name. I don't know how many of my subscribers even know my real name. One thing my readers DO know is the real, authentic, raw, and emotional me.
By Analise Dionn4 years ago in Confessions
The Time I Was Sleeping with a DEA Agent's Wife
When I first moved back to Texas, I was living with my Uncle Bob, a mid-level drug dealer and very successful legitimate businessman, I met one of his customers, a very attractive woman by the name of Donna who happened to be married to a Drug Enforcement Agency agent. My initial reaction to hearing her husband's profession was to not trust her, but Bob said she was cool, and she was every bit as sexy as any Playboy playmate, ever, and we started fucking.
By J.D. Bradley4 years ago in Confessions
Writing
Writing There are many ways to be your authentic self. But for me, there are three. When I’m writing, sleeping, and speaking Spanish. The one thing I can talk about for hours is writing. I enjoy it a lot and it is a way I can express myself and it is a way for my true authentic self to come out. Writing is my happy place and has always been my happy place. Just imagine your own world. You can do whatever you’d like in that world. That’s what writing is.
By Burnt Baguettes4 years ago in Confessions
Secrets That Men Tell
One last secret, told to me by a man, is a really sweet one. This one is my favorite. In February 2020, at my uncle's 60th birthday party, I was sitting next to a close cousin's boyfriend. I had just met him the summer prior, and really liked him. He is such a caring, intelligent, funny and low-key man with a beautiful smile.
By X4 years ago in Confessions
Freedom at Last
From under the watchful moon of the evening, as the stars littered the night sky, there lay a twinkling glow of hope for better days. She laid upon her lips a whisper of a wish and as the wind started to pick up and take it away spreading the land with the magic of her song, a silent tear slipped down her face from knowing all she had to lose to be right here in this moment.
By Destiny Tozier4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Diary
Dear Diary, I often think about why things happen to me and how I even came to be. I think about how the world we live in is a depressing rock hurling through space till the end of time till we all become nothing again, that will be the only time when we all come together on the other side, if there is even one.
By Devin McGurk-Nixon4 years ago in Confessions
