Contemplative Stories

'The Stillness of Soul' is a collection of poems that explore the intricacies of life, death, and the human experience. These poems are born from my own journey, woven from threads of personal reflection, emotion, and introspection. I share them with you in the hope that they may resonate, comfort, or challenge your own perceptions of existence. Passe du bon temps (have a good time) 💋✨

I'm running out of explanations here. I'm winging it. I'm always winging it. The title just felt right and damn, here we are. It's poetry so if it's not your thing, you might like it. Occasionally, it may be a little prose, depending on the feeling but we'll try to keep it consistent. Does anyone ever even read these things? Ok it's about a boy, a lonely boy. Sometimes he feels like he's a thousand leagues under the sea. Other times, it's like he's been severed from reality. Whatever that means. This boy, just wants the world to understand him. But it has no obligation to. So he's stuck on the outskirts of everything and everything else hoping for some sense of clarity. It never comes. It never will. This is a documentation, of his never ending pursuit. That was decent, right? I do love letters, letter letters, confessions, police statements on the side, in case you need them. Basically, I'll handle the ever living heaven out of your writing needs. The sick part, is that it's free so feel free.. to blast the message board and I'll take the time I usually use to do something constructive and meaningful to tend to your requests. Read well, friends.

In a world that rarely slows down long enough to listen, truth does not disappear-it grows quiet. The Quiet Flame is an ongoing collection of reflections inspired by the ancient path of Zoroastrianism-where every thought, every word, and every action carries weight. What began as a series of daily meditations continues to grow, drawing from lived experience as well as the enduring voice of the Gathas-ancient words that speak of truth, choice, and the responsibility carried by every human soul. These are not loud declarations or easy answers. They are small, steady reminders: A choice made in silence. A word spoken with care. A moment where light is kept alive instead of surrendered. This is not a book of instruction or belief, but a collection of reflections shaped by ancient ideas and lived experience. These pages offer no system to follow-only a fire to sit beside. This is not a finished work. It is a living one-meant to be returned to, added to, and carried forward. The flame does not end. It is kept.

"You know this forest holds dangers, yet you come here unarmed? Or is there a guard behind you?" In the heart of the Desurian Archipelago, there is a place where time seems to have stagnated in reverence to power. An abandoned forest, inhabited by an entity whose pale skin and noble posture hide a strength capable of witnessing the fall of gods and the rise of eras. To everyone, she is the beast to be feared; to the world, that is a territory abdicated by fear. Until a small Kitsune, moved only by the pursuit of beauty, decides to defy the shadows. The encounter between solitary immortality and the audacity of innocence triggers an unexpected proposal. What happens when a millennial creature decides to teach the secrets of existence to someone who possesses no weapons, but carries the weight of an immense bravery? A contemplative journey about the cycle of life, the hidden nature of the world, and the blooming of a friendship that defies a thousand years of solitude.

A selection of my own poetry, just for fun :) Some are serious, some are light.

What if truth was never singular? What if reality was not a line, but a fracture splitting endlessly into dimensions where the same idea becomes many, and many ideas become one? This isn't a book of answers, It's a trace of thought that refused to stay still after the question ended. Something that began as an exercise on paper, but didn't agree to remain contained inside it. Here, logic isn't a tool, it's a mirror that breaks when it reflects too much. The mind isn't one space, but a collision of invisible layers, where contradiction's not error, but structure. Truth doesn't stand, It shifts, reality doesn't hold, It multiplies. And the human being isn't a center, but a passage between dimensions of perception, memory, and thought that never fully align. These are fragments of something that couldn't remain a fragment. Paradoxical truths, written from the edge of a system that never finishes itself. And perhaps... from a place where finishing was never the point.

Archive of thoughts.

Thoughts are ever changing, but every so often they find a way to form something a little deeper. And when the words find their way to paper, life becomes a little bit clearer. Featured Chapter: Wonderland ***May contain disturbing or triggering content for some readers***

I write random thoughts that come to me around 3am and hope that you will relate. spelling/grammar/punctuation isn't perfect

This is not a typical story. It doesn't have characters or scenarios, just myself and my own thoughts. It was a series of dreams filled with self-reflection and realizations about my waking life. As we slumber, we all dream, and those dreams often symbolize our waking state or the emotions invading us and influencing our decisions. Sometimes they reveal things we have failed to notice, with our subconscious bringing them back to our attention. A dream is our inner self's way of communicating with us.

These poems are my attempt to explore uncharted territories that I shall navigate through the eyes of the soul--- of which I want to stay connected. Whilst some are random poems, it is of high hopes that I commit to the underlying purpose I will publish this book.

A story, a poem, a question, an answer, an opinion, it could be anything. But the deal is that I write 1 page of any of it; for 100 days.. This is a 100 day writing challenge I took upon myself so that I could develop some consistency and discipline in my crazy, unregulated, havoc-wrecking lifestyle. Go ahead, read and lemme know how you feel. Constructive criticism will always be appreciated. Happy reading!! Love and peace✌ ..... Getting there, yeah..

Log*o*phile noun noun: logophile plural noun: logophiles Meaning: A lover of words

A story about a werewolf girl murdered by her adoptive sister. This story shows the steps of her mindas she ties to figure out the motives and find out the darkest secrets.

Random thoughts on life and love

A short story on life, and death. Is death worth it?