Historias de Philosophies

His eyes told how dark his thoughts were, what devilish aura he shadowed if she accepted him and was ready to listen to him no one could imagine his doings. She only seeks solitude, but he seeks her, and he craves her as if his life depended on her. He is the cause of her pain. She only wishes to go away from all the emotions, but he can never let that happen. He can show his tears to her, but can she wipe them? Maybe God wanted to create an unforgettable story. His aura screams power that no one can deny except bowing. Her soul reflects others' sins for what others fear to acknowledge. Did she hate him for giving her pain? No, she never hated him. She changed herself.. but what change? She loves him! Maybe not... then what changed...? Love, why is it so difficult either to gain or to lose... "I don't like it when you think about things other than me," he said Is this the start of his madness, or is he already drowned in insanity? She is his heart.........She is the eternal echo God cast into existence for his life. ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●● He is taking every step near to her, his deep dark eyes looking at her serene, calm face... she is looking directly into his deep, dark ebony eyes... she can clearly see the insanity in his eyes... "Sweetheart, I told you not to think about other things.... but why would you like to provoke me... ha, " his voice is deadly low, sending an electrifying jolt. She is just standing in front of him looking into his sinister soul... He touched her cheek gently, rubbing the soft, gentle, dried tear marks.. He kissed her forehead... she closed her eyes, accepting her fate from which she tried to run away.... "Tell me, sweetheart, what punishment should I give him." A dark mysterious smirk playing on his handsome face... "He is your sister's soon to be husband," she said as he didn't know. He chuckled, a mocking, sinister, extremely insane smile

Book Descriptions are So Irritating. If you want to read a book, just read it. Why do you want to know the description? -That's Kai, and this is his story. Excuse me, whoever is writing a shit of my life, get your head checked. What's there to even write about my life? -A book unlike any other, focusing on Kai's monologues of life and his journey to find his purpose in life. Excuse me, what!!!, That makes me seem I am depressed, I am fucking not!!! -Join him on his journey of badminton and contemplate thoughts about life. It's not that deep, dude, stop!!! -Junior school last year arc is undergoing.

No one has ever truly known where the soul dwells before the heart begins to beat. Nor what it sees, nor what it remembers. And when the final pulse fades, in the last breath of life, where does it return? In the Aragas Legacy ... before humanity fled its dying star,souls were born in the halls of light, woven into destinies shaped by ancient politics and forgotten wars. There, Celestia lived. A young princess, veiled in mystery, her eyes hiding truths no one in the court dared to name. Three hundred sixty-five years before the collapse, she met Aldario... by chance, or perhaps by design. A boy whose presence unraveled the threads of fate. Their love was not new. It had burned before. It would burn again. And each time, it would vanish like starlight swallowed by dawn. In Aragas, nothing is truly born. Nothing truly dies. Everything returns.

Is Percy Jackson a troubled kid? You could say that. 4 schools, 4 years, 4 expulsions. It's hard not to come to that conclusion, and it's even harder to find a school that will take Percy without writing an essay to the headmaster. So when a mysterious letter from a mysterious, strange school named Hogwarts arrives, inviting Percy to attend with 0 consequences and 0 risk of judgment, only Percy's step-dad, Gabe, is against Percy attending... And Percy doesn't really care what his step-dad thinks anyway. So join Percy Jackson as he attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and learns the secrets that hide within the castle's stone walls.

- Mint a lélegzetvétel Felícia... Téged szeretni olyan magától értetődő és természetes volt, mint levegőt venni. . . . . . . A történetet semmiképpen sem ajánlom 16 (helyenként 18) éven aluliaknak a trágár nyelvezet, szexuális tartalom, tudatmódosító szerek fogyasztása, mentális zavarok/betegségek tárgykörének feldolgozása miatt. Minden itt olvasható dolog a képzelet szüleménye, merítkezik a valóságból, valós személyekből és szellemi alkotásokból, viszont nem röghözkötötten.

In a world obsessed with answers, there's a fool who only asks questions. THE FOOL KING is a philosophical poetry collection about a lost soul exploring the deepest paradoxes of existence: Who am I when I'm constantly changing? What is real when everything feels like illusion? How do I find truth in a life built on beautiful lies? Through fragmented verses and raw introspection, this collection doesn't pretend to have answers. Instead, it traces one consciousness's journey through confusion, where every realization births a new question, and wisdom lives in not knowing. This is for the overthinkers. For the lost. For those brave enough to admit they're both. For readers who've ever felt too much in a world that tells them to feel less. Author's Note: This collection is an honest exploration of confusion, identity, and the spaces between knowing and not knowing. It's philosophical, sometimes messy, and often questioning-much like the process of writing it. I don't claim to have answers. I only know that asking the questions matters. Thank you for joining the fool's journey.

In a world where memories burn brighter than fire, and destinies echo through wooden toys and whispered legends... one boy survives the night that should have ended everything. Drazon never asked to be the last child of a fallen village. He never asked to carry a wooden toy carved by a father he barely remembers. He never asked for the fire - the one that swallowed his home, his family, and the life he knew. But fate is not concerned with what he wants. Fate only knows what he must become. Now, with shadows stalking the edges of the forest, whispers crawling through the dark, and a strange golden light that seems to call his name, Drazon steps into a world woven with secrets older than kingdoms, older than gods - older than time itself. He will meet wanderers whose smiles hide histories, warriors whose scars speak louder than their voices, and beings who should not exist at all. Every step forward pulls him deeper into the truth behind his village's destruction... and the truth behind AION - a force that bends destiny, memory, and the fragile boundary between creation and ruin. But the deeper Drazon walks into the unknown, the more he realizes: What was taken from him was only the beginning. What waits for him may change the world. And the wooden toy he carries... is no toy at all. A story of grief and growth. Of slow-burning revelations and quiet courage. Of a boy chasing the pieces of himself through a world that is breaking - or being reborn. AION - where every moment matters, and every heartbeat echoes forever.

No one is safe. The torch of man and every single intelligent being on the planet is at stake. A hyper-intelligent race known as the Endall sees themselves as the superior race and they will die trying to defend that title. There are trillions upon trillions of these things that were created by the uncaring hands of evolution as a deadline that humanity failed to reach. And then there's Mosh. Mosh is a seemingly normal giant that is nothing but a pawn in the human military's eyes but to the Writer, he's everything. A select few know who the Writer is and even fewer know the prophecy the Writer has planned for Mosh. But Mosh doesn't know. Mosh is just living his life and sees himself as an unfortunate bystander in a global crisis. But he's being watched by more than just the Writer. Viewer Discretion is advised for violence, gore, language, alcohol use, and sexual themes.

To everyone else, he is the perfect student: polite, intelligent, and on the fast track to a future he's supposed to want. But this is just a role he plays. A mask to hide the truth. At 21, he moves to the historic university city of Pécs to start his life, but he's already a ghost. He is a detached spectator in his own story, watching himself perform the part of 'The Son' and 'The Student' with a cold, clinical precision. Haunted by the shadows of a father who left and a mother he can't help but hurt, his new life is not one of freedom. It's a life of financial spreadsheets, missed parties, and the crushing weight of a poverty that isolates him from a world he can't afford to join. The city's ancient streets and bustling lecture halls are just a backdrop. His real world is the four walls of his sterile dorm room, the bitter static of phone calls home, and the pages of a black notebook-the only place he is honest. He watches, he records, and he asks himself one question: How long can you perform a life before you are completely disqualified from living one?

Byem was never just a student; he was an architect of his own destiny. Armed with a 327-mind and the anthems of Juice WRLD, he spent his nights at 2:00 AM negotiating with Quiet Spirits for a seat at the table of greatness ​He conquered the exams, but he almost lost his soul. ​From the shadows of Abuja to the red dust of Kaduna, this is the raw story of a medical student who thought logic was his only weapon until he met the girl from Lagos who broke his fortress. ​This isn't just a memoir of "Hell Days" and anatomy. It is a confession of ego, ambition, and the painful realization that the greatest exploration is the depth of the human heart. ​The Titan has arrived. But he isn't who you think he is.

Sometimes the most broken people find the most beautiful grace. Iris spends her nights studying the stars and her days analysing radio signals from distant galaxies. She believes in patterns, mathematics, and that some things are worth waiting for. When she meets Titus behind a café, cigarette smoke curling between them as they talk about constellations and faith, she thinks she's found someone who might understand both the science and the sacred. Titus fixes broken things for a living: radios, wiring, anything with circuits he can untangle. But he can't seem to fix himself. Three years after his wife left him for another man, he's still drowning in whiskey and one-night stands, convinced he's too damaged for real love. He no longer believes in anything, and definitely doesn't believe in forever. ---- Story Playlist: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7mZem9wJ33FhavZVp_qL2rOBXb1H9jO8&feature=shared

Your mind is a burning room, a drowning storm, and a torturing fairy-tale all at once. Now, descend through its layers and discover what waits in the one place even the flames can't reach. Sad Sundays is my weekly space to share melancholic poetry, words that help me navigate the stillness, the weight, and the quiet storms of recovery. Each Sunday, I post a new piece that I've written, using poetry to process my journey through detox and rehab, to face the difficult parts of healing, and to find meaning in the silence. Every poem is written by hand with help from the Rhymezone platform. This series is as much for me as it is for anyone who finds comfort in knowing they're not alone on their gray days. I will eventually try to tie most of my work together into a larger piece, but first and foremost, this will function as a collection of my writings while I am going through detox. There may be an underlying story, but perhaps not. Find out next week, and join me for a Sad Sunday moment. New Upload every Sunday at 18:00 (6 PM) German time - CET/CEST (UTC+1/UTC+2).

Elouise seemed like someone who wore her heart on her sleeve. The truth, however? She was very careful not to. Her life moved in gentle routines: shelving books at the shop, volunteering at the nursing home, filling her days with small, dependable connections. Predictable. Safe. Enough to keep the loneliness at a manageable distance. Then he appeared. A stranger with a lemon-print umbrella, whose visits to the bookshop followed a peculiar, almost ritualistic pattern. He never lingered too long. Never explained himself. Yet each encounter left Elouise curious in a way she hadn't felt in years; drawn toward something she didn't fully understand, but couldn't stop noticing. And behind her, the past waited. Not her mistakes, but the wreckage of someone else's. A history she's spent years avoiding. A voice she never wanted to hear again. Memories that refuse to stay buried, no matter how carefully she's built her life around them. As grief resurfaces and lines between strangers begin to blur, Elouise is forced to reckon with the question she's spent a lifetime dodging: Can needing someone ever be safe? Or does love always come with a cost she can't afford?

In this prequel to The Secrets Of The Gordian Knot, Hogwarts has never had an American student before in its 1000-year history. That changes when Emaline Goode, a 16-year-old Irish-American Thunderbird genius, philosopher, astronomer, and Mozart superfan from Oregon, discovers that she has been transferred from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts for the 1991-1992 school year, the same year Harry Potter began his schooling at Hogwarts, and is sorted into Ravenclaw. Known for her quick wit and insatiable curiosity, Emaline has a penchant for finding the extraordinary in the mundane. Her classmates often find her stargazing, pondering the mysteries of the universe, or passionately discussing the cadence of a Mozart symphony. Along the way, she makes a decision that will change her life. Forever. But will her loyalty to Ravenclaw get in the way of her friendship with Harry? As secrets unfold and loyalties are tested, the stakes grow higher: Emaline faces the possibility of losing not only a cherished friend but also an opportunity to reshape her destiny at Hogwarts. Meanwhile, Harry and Emaline must navigate these challenges, aware that their combined strengths hold potential for a future neither of them could have predicted. As the narrative unfolds, we journey back in time to explore Emaline's past, unveiling the path that led her to become the esteemed Astronomy professor at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious. And however difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. It matters that you don't just give up." ― Stephen Hawking Book cover by RysikArt. This book also contains selected lines and excerpts from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling. Lastly, this is not regular fanfiction.

Tomaso Ascheri was born in fifteenth-century Italy and cannot die. For centuries, he has searched for the reason why. Why does he survive everything? Tomaso gradually pieced together the logic and reasoning behind his immortality, and learned that it brings with it a few surprising tricks. In modern-day Ireland, hiding under the name Tom Ash, he lives quietly among his books. But he feels it is time to talk.

Unlike my other collection of poems, these were written with anything but a lot of thoughts :) Written by @i_yeeted_cheese

A family vacation leads misanthropic and asocial outcast Elliott Hier to delve into his polytheistic faith in a way that will irreversibly change his views and future.

A new adventure unfolds for the level 0 imagine breaker as he faces against six tragic girls, using wits and words alone. But even without imagine breaker, can his words reach the heart of these tragic maidens? And perhaps, this new world...?

Thot of thoughts: A nonviolence manifesto from one Georgia trans girls life long struggle with recovery to transition. I have been thinking a lot lately. More in an ai chat. Literally dealing with the world itself as I try to get to where I can write. Dealing with mental illness. Literally transitioning in this political climate. Might make a good autobiography One day. The following is a journal of my last years. Literally plan to thrive. Editing passes to come. This is meant to be an historical document from an critical voice. Yes me. A trans girl in the middle of societal scapegoating and possibly societal collapse. It is important to learn from the past. So learning from by while making something to be learned from. This is why I am posting it. Its apart of an omnibus. Planed by me.

11x featured wattpad story. Before everything, it's assumed there was nothing, but what if there was no real difference between the two? Just two extreme philosophies from the first conflict. The planet Huom has been under observation for longer than should technically be possible. The primary watcher, a bitter black hole, is excited to see that there is finally a proverbial Darkness at the end of the tunnel. Meanwhile, on the planet, in the freezing mountains of Empris, Lyeasrakardsul, the oldest living sorcerer, suffers from devastating nightmares. At the same time, far away in the sandstone desert of Zenon, Herschel, a man filled to the brim with weird ideas is escaping a prison filled with strange old men. What does all this have to do with arsehole Gods, hairy Dwarfs, frustrated Afreets, curious Knomes, lizard-women, and nude Áettar? Perhaps Nothing, perhaps Everything... but why can't it be both?