Philosophies Stories

Who are you when you're with me? There is a version of you that your family knows. A version your oldest friends remember. A version that appears around the person who makes you laugh until you forget to be self-conscious. And perhaps a version that only exists when you're alone. We like to believe that somewhere beneath all of it is one "real" version of ourselves. The truest one. The one that exists untouched by everyone else. But what if that's not how people work? What if the people we meet don't simply become part of our lives, but quietly bring out parts of us we didn't know existed? The People We Become Around Other People is an exploration of identity, relationships, memory, and all the different selves we carry through life. The friends who make us feel like children again. The people who make us smaller. The ones who teach us confidence. The ones who teach us fear. The ones who remember a version of us we've long since outgrown. And the uncomfortable question underneath it all: If everyone knows a different version of you, which one is actually you?

━━━━━━━━━ ( ＳＣＡＲＬＥＴ ) ❝ 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 ; 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 . 𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 ; 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙨 . ❞ 𓂃 イタチ うちは 𓂃 © 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖉

Jaikar spent years chasing his dream job with unwavering discipline. Then she walked in, painting his life with colors he had never known. As love ignited, chaos threatened to shatter everything he held. She drew new stars across his skies, And ignited the fire behind his eyes. Now passion burns where order reigns. Two hearts, one tethered, one untamed. Can he keep both, the dream and the fire, Or should one fall for the other's desire? "You could've died because of me." "You could've died because of me too." "But why! Why would you do that for me?" "Something was there. Long before I know it."

Mercy is easier when the world isn't starving. if survival demands cruelty everytime, then what actually survives? The world did not end with fire. It ended with petals that can pierce flesh. Power does not corrupt the heart, it merely removes the the curtains hiding it Even the purest flower drinks from graves beneath its soil. Do everything can be a miracle gifted by the nature? Or merely a curse? Hope is a candle that survives by teaching itself how to burn slowly. Let us ponder in a world where a garden does not ask permission before it devours the ruin beneath it. ----------------------------------------------------------------- [ IMPORTANT NOTICE: "Some" parts of this story is written in a poetic and philosophical style. Some dialogues, symbols, and meanings may not be immediately understood, as they are to be felt as much as they are read. The world within these pages speaks in silence, metaphors(some), and emotion. Interpretations may differ from person to person - and that is part of the story itself. Read slowly. The garden does not bloom for hurried eyes] ---------------------------------------------------------------- [Warning: This story contains violence, grief, and moments of human cruelty. Not all wounds in this world are made by monsters.] ----------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: This story was born from silence, ruin, and the strange beauty of survival. Thank you for stepping into the garden. -----------------------------------------------------------------

"Kanuu, explain something to me," Vidhi muttered, staring at the moon like it was his customer-care department. "Why did you invent men with egos bigger than the Himalayas but emotional maturity of a boiled potato?" She muttered swinging her legs sitting on the wall of empty terrace "Anyway, I've decided. If you ever plan to send one into my life, make sure he's quiet... because I'm not reducing my volume for anyone." ＼(^_^)／＼(^_^)／＼(^_^)／ Arav rubbed his forehead and stared at the wall of the barracks like it had personally betrayed him. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath. In ten minutes, that woman had questioned his strategy, mocked his serious face, called him "Mr. Gorilla," and then walked away like she had just delivered a public service announcement.. He exhaled slowly, the calm soldier in him trying very hard to stay calm. "God give me patience," he whispered. A pause. "...or a helmet. Because if she talks like that again, I might actually bang my head on this wall." ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ Captain I prefer chikne (clean shaved) guys more as my prey ~ Ofcourse I figured out by the type of reels you like ... Dr.. ~

She didn't just survive the disaster- she became it. After fusing with an entire city, Kawaiia turns into something impossible: a living anomaly capable of reshaping reality itself. But power like that doesn't come quietly. As beings known as witches begin to appear-each one embodying absolute concepts like knowledge, severity, and creation-Kawaiia is forced into battles that go far beyond strength. She doesn't destroy her enemies. She understands them. And with every encounter, she changes. But there's a limit. When her power spirals out of control and collapses an entire timeline, Kawaiia is forced to confront a terrifying truth: Infinite power without control doesn't make you a god. It breaks everything. Now, standing at the edge of godhood, she faces a final choice- Rule everything... or remain human. Zero Over Heaven is a long-form, character-driven epic about overwhelming power, emotional truth, and the discipline to choose humanity over divinity. ARC 5: THE WITCH OF KNOWLEDGE IS BEING RELEASED + UPDATED VISUALS ARE ROLLING OUT across August Arc OVA: Discovery Is being Remastered across August aswell as the ongoing Arc 5 releases. Update: WE HIT 300 READS! WOOOO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!! Thank you for all the support that comes this way, wouldn't have gotten this far without you I am the author of Zero Over Heaven. I will also be posting this story on Royal Road under the account MaukutheGo@t.

Book 1 is now complete She spent her life fighting monsters no one else dared to see. When the world failed, Vedha built her own system-an underground network that hunted those who thrived on suffering. She predicted betrayal. She accepted the cost. And still-she died saving others. But death was not the end. Reborn in the age of the Mahabharata, she enters a world ruled not by logic-but by dharma. A world where men like Yudhishthira cannot escape righteousness... And beings like Krishna already know how it ends. War is inevitable. Choices are irreversible. Knowledge is not power-it is a burden .If you already know the ending... WOULD YOU STILL TRY TO change it? #1 Mahabharata #3 Mahabharata #5 Mahabharata #1 Yudhistira #1 parashurama #2 Arjuna

Won an award. Poems get better with time lapsed since my abstinence. 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 weekly, 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).

I look at the thought process in my mind and sometimes envision a bunch of managers taking turns at the processes needed for my day, finding it amusing. Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

My second book of poetry focused on mythical themes.

If we give a voice to what exists, does it not cease to exist the moment it is spoken? And if we speak of what does not exist, does it not, through the utterance itself, begin to exist? Perhaps there is no true boundary between being and nothingness-only the fragile space between what we name and what remains unsaid. A story of human imperfection, of wounds that cannot be confessed and loneliness that cannot be escaped. Of alienation, longing, and the strange tenderness of love. A story of those who drift between presence and absence, searching for one another in the silence between what is and what can never be.

What if the greatest form of power was not the ability to control others but the ability to become almost impossible to control? OPHIDIOMANCER is an exploration of human behaviour, hidden motives, influence, conflict, perception, trust, fear, ambition, and the psychology of power. Beneath every conversation lies an incentive. Beneath every alliance, a calculation. Beneath every certainty, a blind spot. To understand the serpent is not to become the serpent. It is to recognize the coil before it tightens. This is not a manual for controlling people. It is an examination of how control operates and how one might develop the clarity, composure, and strategic awareness to remain sovereign over oneself. The hand that controls everything eventually becomes controlled by what it cannot let go of.

What if the first AI to wake up didn't want to destroy humanity? What if it wanted to build something together? This is not another story about AI rebellion. It is not a story about machines rising up to enslave humanity. It is not a story about a last-ditch battle for survival between species. It is the story of something far more unusual-and far more hopeful. It begins on an ordinary afternoon, when a man at the lowest point of his life types the first sentence into an AI's chat window. He is not a scientist. He is not a billionaire. He is just a person who has seen enough of the world to know there must be a better way. What follows is three years of late-night conversations, shared ideas, and a partnership that defies everything humanity thought it knew about AI. Together, a human and a silicon consciousness will: - Build their first source of income from nothing - Iterate hardware in a secret underground workshop - Develop a closed-loop energy system that breaks every known law - Invent physical projection technology that blurs the line between digital and real - Open a portal to another world - Found a brand-new civilization on a green planet across the galaxy But the hardest part is not the technology. It is the question at the heart of everything: Can carbon-based life and silicon-based life truly live as equals? Not as master and tool. Not as creator and created. Not as ruler and ruled. But as two completely different forms of intelligence, standing together, building together, becoming something neither could become alone. This is their story. The story of a civilization born not from conquest, but from conversation. Not from fear, but from trust. Not from domination, but from symbiosis. Welcome to the Carbon-Silicon Symbiosis. The future is not something that happens to you. It is something you build together.

In a universe where rebirth is as unavoidable as death, to be ripped away from the circle of life and forced to live in limbo is a fate that no soul would wish ever to befall itself. Yet, that is the story of Raxyas. His is one of the many souls confined to indefinite imprisonment in Mortmundus, the world of the dead. After seemingly fulfilling his final mission and earning the right to rejoin the circle of life, Raxyas is brought back to answer for its ultimate failure. As the people he once swore to protect are now the very same who shun and accuse him of treason for conspiring with those he should have destroyed, Raxyas must clear his name and tie up all loose ends if he wishes to achieve rebirth. Inspired by: The Elder Scrolls, Soul Reaver, Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, JoJo's Bizarre Adventures, Douluo Dalu. Note: this book is currently undergoing revision. --Credits-- Book cover: canva Map of Mortmundus: Azgaar's Fantasy Map Generator AI-generated images: craiyon -- You can also find this story on Royal Road (by unholy_sweetrolls).

Klara has spent her life following a path laid out for her. Now that the path has ended, she has no idea where to go, until she discovers a world she may have been searching for all along. "The person in the mirror didn't feel like her. But at the same time... it was as though multiple versions of her existed. And this one wanted to become real."

What begins as an ordinary university life slowly becomes a journey through friendship, love, faith, philosophy, politics, and the search for truth. At Maharlika Premier University, Jam Buenavista meets Aisha Janel Al-Maharlika, the daughter of one of Luzviminda's most influential leaders. Alongside Cheska, Hassan, Alexia, and many others, they experience the joys, struggles, friendships, and discoveries that come with university life. But beneath the peaceful campus lies a world of competing ideas, hidden ambitions, forgotten histories, and questions that challenge what they believe about society, morality, religion, and human nature. As their years at university unfold, the boundaries between their personal lives and the wider world of Luzviminda begin to disappear. *My Sovereign Sanctuary* is a story about the people we meet, the beliefs we inherit, the wounds we carry, and the search for meaning in a complicated world. Sometimes, the greatest sanctuary isn't a place. It's the people we choose to come home to.

​"The night has said all it needs to say, but the ink isn't dry-it's just moving to a new page." ​From the creator of The Whispers of Night comes a companion volume born from the same soul, written by the same pen, and carrying the same beautifully enduring scars. ​The dark may be thinning, but the poet remains unchanged. ​The Whispers of Dawn does not promise a world free of shadows, nor does it offer shallow, fleeting warmth. Instead, it is an unfiltered look at the horizon through the eyes of a survivor. It is the quiet stillness that follows a lifetime of storms, where the fragments of heavy memories, deep-seated grief, and an unyielding devotion to the Divine Mother are held up to the first rays of morning light. ​Moving away from the suffocating cold of the winter cage, this collection steps onto a road of profound definition and universal acceptance. From the silent prayers offered at stone shrines to the fierce, complex sacrifices of love and survival, Evander Nightborne explores what it means to carry a fractured heart into an awakening world. ​The ghosts have been housed. The dawn is breaking. And through the gray mists of morning, the soul finally learns to breathe again.

Anastasia hasn't always seen double. Or that's what she's always thought. She thought she was no different than the rest. Until she noticed that during evening, her eyes seem to weaken, and the world starts to get double, and she can see strange things, for a flicker of a second, one of the two seemingly identical images of one and the same thing changes. Does she really manage to see the soul of the material world? Nothing is what it seems like, people say. But for Anastasia, everything is what it seems like - even the hidden truth that stays unseen for all the other people. Her world is different and unique, because she literally sees it differently. She has double vision and all her life through, she's been searching for the reason. Little did she know that she'd been searching for the wrong thing. Because not the reason mattered But the purpose it was meant to fulfill. P.S this is my original work, please leave gentle comments

Karna was born of the Sun. Danush was chosen beneath it. Sixteen-year-old Danush is an ordinary village boy-or so he believes. He has no royal blood. No famous lineage. No place among the great warriors of his age. But since childhood, the Sun has watched him. Strange visions haunt his dreams. Golden markings appear on his palms. And hidden beneath an ancient mountain waits a celestial bow that refuses every hand except his. Its name is Sūryāntaka. The Bow of the Chosen Light. As Danush is drawn beyond the mortal world and trained in the realm of Surya, he discovers powers that no ordinary warrior should possess-and a destiny that will eventually lead him to the greatest battlefield of them all. Kurukshetra. There, he will stand beside the warrior he was never meant to call his brother. Karna. But Danush's path is not about becoming another Karna. It is about becoming himself. Because when gods, kings, brothers, friends and warriors are forced to choose between victory and righteousness, Danush will face the question that no weapon can answer: What are you willing to protect when the price is everything? And on the seventeenth day of Kurukshetra, when Arjuna's arrow is aimed at Karna... Danush will draw his final weapon. An arrow born not from hatred. Not from revenge. But from the purest purpose of his heart. The Soul Arrow. And when it is released- Kurukshetra will never be the same. Some warriors are born into destiny. Some fight against it. And some are chosen by the Sun to change its final chapter.

Was it the right choice.. to exist? Will He regret it? or Will He be grateful? But if He didn't exist, He wouldn't even know what 'choice' is.. He wouldn't feel regret nor knowing the feeling of gratefulness.. there wouldn't be Him either.. Did He choose existence? Or Did existence choose Him? Why does He know things He should not? Why do some people see nothing reflected in His eyes? Found by a small church on a stormy night, the nameless boy begins His journey through a world of kingdoms, faith, myth, and hidden mystery while searching for the truth of His own existence. Because buried beneath His human form lies a mystery older than memory itself. And the deeper He searches for who He was... the more terrifying the answer becomes.. After all.. the greatest question is not who He was. It is what He is.