What's Your? - Confessions Day 1 *UPDATED*
Aaaaaaaaalrighty then! It's DAY ONE. I'll be choosing a topic over which you have to confess something, by whatever you decipher. If you're new to this, you can know the back-story here.
So the topic for today's confession issssssss HIDE N' SEEK.
Everyone has a story in every hide n' seek game they ever played. There's ALWAYS that one time when you come out from the bushes late, and imprint a question mark to everyone's faces. So waaaat eees eeeyyyaaarrrr issstooorryyy?
Confess it! [FACEBOOK PEOPLE. YOU CAN JOIN IN TOO.]
You can write your confessions on your respective blogs, mail the links for the same at akanksha1293@gmail.com.
OR, if you don't want to reveal your identity, and think your story might embarrass you, no problemó! You can mail your confessions to me, and I, and only I would be witnessing your confessions. They would only be posted on my blog - no identity revealed. I'd be your confession box.
So you have the entire day before the clock strikes 1 (Yeah, it was cruel of Fairy Godmother to not provide her with enough time to party.). Post it, mail me, post a picture that reveals your story, post a video, a song, a letter snap, call me, text me (Only Facebook friends, that is, the latter two.)- do whatever you want under the sundar neela aasmaan, before it goes to sleep. I shall update this after one, with all of your kickass people's post.
Eager, and waiting,
Ak.
And then? It all changed for him. Like any other boy - yes, boy - I was an active kid too, and happily participated in whatever sport took place each day among this small group of ours, which played in the park behind my old house. It was a Wednesday, hence, a Hide N' Seek day. Time came for the most dumbest guy's "den". Me being me, I chucked hiding in groups to avoid losing the game, and hid in the bushes in the darkest corner. I heard a puppy cry. When I tried peeking through, what I saw was the same guy who was supposed to be finding us, was instead harassing a litter of puppies that had just been born, during which a puppy was hurt, and couldn't get back up. Now me being me, again, I stumbled out of the bushes, throwing my jacket aside, like I'd been wearing a Wonder Woman costume inside. I ran towards him, and pushed him to the ground. I punched, and I punched, and I punched, and then I punched some more, until the poor kid's brow started bleeding. Imagine the terror of my fury in my friends, that NOBODY came out to stop the violence. The next is funny. When I let him up, he held the dogs, kissed them, apologised and ran back home. After that, he never even tried facing me, whatsoever. The punches left a couple of scars, on his face - which was too harsh of me. But then I've always been so proud of my righteousness that it made me overlook the apology that I owed him. So, yeah! I ruined someone's face, and I don't feel really good about it. And so, thereon, I tried reducing the frequency of my fights, lest someone die along the way.
A dear friend shared a story, who wanted to keep their identity anonymous. So here it is,
I used to sneak out money from my mom's purse when I was a twelve year old. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like she would not lend me a few bucks for whatever reason I wanted to, but weirdly the thrill of stealing was appealing to me. And it was downright stealing. Okay, so as this went on for quite a long time, the thrill kind of went down the chute and I was brimming with guilt. I kind of concluded that 'this was it, it couldn't get any worse'. Bad people steal and I did not want to become a part of the parade. So yeah I kind of swore to myself that I would not do it anymore, the whole thrill had to stop. Like I had to find out other things to do and stuff. I mean the money I stole 10, 20 bucks wasn't the factor. It was the idea of sneaking the notes out, doing something that you're not supposed to, it was all that and more. So the 12 year old me realized, (THANK LORD) If you don't do anything with the money, why bother to waste your precious time stealing it?
Wokaay, then! I'll see you tomorrow, with more.
Overloaded with work,
Ak :*
So the topic for today's confession issssssss HIDE N' SEEK.
Everyone has a story in every hide n' seek game they ever played. There's ALWAYS that one time when you come out from the bushes late, and imprint a question mark to everyone's faces. So waaaat eees eeeyyyaaarrrr issstooorryyy?
Confess it! [FACEBOOK PEOPLE. YOU CAN JOIN IN TOO.]
Eager, and waiting,
And then? It all changed for him. Like any other boy - yes, boy - I was an active kid too, and happily participated in whatever sport took place each day among this small group of ours, which played in the park behind my old house. It was a Wednesday, hence, a Hide N' Seek day. Time came for the most dumbest guy's "den". Me being me, I chucked hiding in groups to avoid losing the game, and hid in the bushes in the darkest corner. I heard a puppy cry. When I tried peeking through, what I saw was the same guy who was supposed to be finding us, was instead harassing a litter of puppies that had just been born, during which a puppy was hurt, and couldn't get back up. Now me being me, again, I stumbled out of the bushes, throwing my jacket aside, like I'd been wearing a Wonder Woman costume inside. I ran towards him, and pushed him to the ground. I punched, and I punched, and I punched, and then I punched some more, until the poor kid's brow started bleeding. Imagine the terror of my fury in my friends, that NOBODY came out to stop the violence. The next is funny. When I let him up, he held the dogs, kissed them, apologised and ran back home. After that, he never even tried facing me, whatsoever. The punches left a couple of scars, on his face - which was too harsh of me. But then I've always been so proud of my righteousness that it made me overlook the apology that I owed him. So, yeah! I ruined someone's face, and I don't feel really good about it. And so, thereon, I tried reducing the frequency of my fights, lest someone die along the way.
A dear friend shared a story, who wanted to keep their identity anonymous. So here it is,
I used to sneak out money from my mom's purse when I was a twelve year old. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like she would not lend me a few bucks for whatever reason I wanted to, but weirdly the thrill of stealing was appealing to me. And it was downright stealing. Okay, so as this went on for quite a long time, the thrill kind of went down the chute and I was brimming with guilt. I kind of concluded that 'this was it, it couldn't get any worse'. Bad people steal and I did not want to become a part of the parade. So yeah I kind of swore to myself that I would not do it anymore, the whole thrill had to stop. Like I had to find out other things to do and stuff. I mean the money I stole 10, 20 bucks wasn't the factor. It was the idea of sneaking the notes out, doing something that you're not supposed to, it was all that and more. So the 12 year old me realized, (THANK LORD) If you don't do anything with the money, why bother to waste your precious time stealing it?
Wokaay, then! I'll see you tomorrow, with more.
Overloaded with work,
Ak :*
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