Solitude Stories

Ten years ago, Jay Walker was banished by his own team for a crime he never committed. Betrayed and broken, he lost all hope and vanished into The Desert of Doom. Now, after a decade in solitude, fate grants him a second chance: a new world, new path, new people, new villains, and new trials that will test him in ways he never imagined. But scars don't always fade... what will happen when the past catches up... and Jay is forced to face Ninjago again?

Cassandra Clover has always existed in the quiet spaces between introversion and extroversion-soft-spoken, thoughtful, her rare beauty inherited from dark-skinned parents who raised her to lead with kindness. She's the friend everyone wants but few truly know, someone who overthinks every word yet still gives herself away too freely. She's learned to protect her vulnerabilities, building walls just high enough to feel safe. Then she meets Cardan Wilson. There's something about him that stops her cold. His eyes that he covers with a hood, which she never should have seen-deep and swirling, as if crafted with deliberate care-seem to hold secrets she desperately wants to uncover. He hides beneath hoods and silence, his voice a low, peculiar cadence that makes her want to confess things she's never told anyone. He's magnetic in his mystery, unsettling in his distance, and she can't look away. Cassie has never felt this pull before-this need to understand someone who seems determined to remain unknown. Cardan is a puzzle she didn't ask for but can't ignore, and the more she reaches for him, the more she realizes he might be reaching back. In a story about two people who see something in each other the world has overlooked, Cassie will learn that sometimes the most dangerous thing you can do is let someone in-and sometimes, it's the only way to truly live.

The title says it all

Return What happens to a letter when its recipient is dead? It circles the world like a ghost, searching for eyes that can read it. Sometimes it finds them. Sometimes it waits for years. She wrote to him for three years. Every morning. Every evening. And then an answer came - not from him, but from someone who had found the letters and did not know where to send them. He returned after twenty years. Roses in his hands. A suitcase full of guilt across his shoulders. The door was opened by a woman who had waited. And a son who had never seen him. An android, thirty-seven days before deactivation, had a dream. He dreamed of a woman who smelled of grass. He had never seen grass. But he woke with the feeling that he loved. A man sold his shadow for a fistful of darkness. He thought he would not notice. It turned out that without it, no one recognized him. Not his wife. Not his children. Not even himself. To these stories are added the voices of the classics: a mother - after Shevchenko - who curses and forgives; Cassandra - after Lesya Ukrainka - prophesying in the Ukrainian night; stonecutters who doubt but keep walking; and a solar symphony where a person finds God not in the heavens, but within. Psychological drama, magical realism, and stylization merge here into a single silence - the very silence that rings louder than words. This is a book about the return home. Not by body - by soul. The letter is still waiting. The door is still open. Are you ready to enter?

I don't know when this started. I only know that writing things down makes them feel a little more real. Reality has a habit of changing when no one is looking.

Eux dirigent le monde. Moi, je tente simplement d'y vivre. Et voici tout ce que cela fait naître en moi.

A journal entry I wrote on WritersCafe

Depuis sa naissance, Luna grandit dans un monde où l'amour existe, mais où il fait parfois mal. Petite fille calme et discrète, elle apprend très tôt à observer plus qu'à parler. À seulement trois ans, ses parents se séparent et son enfance se coupe en deux. Entre un père avec qui elle vit, une mère qu'elle aime malgré les blessures du passé, et une famille compliquée à comprendre quand on est encore enfant, Luna grandit avec cette sensation étrange de devoir devenir forte trop vite. Les années passent et elle garde beaucoup de choses pour elle. Les tristesses qu'elle cache derrière un sourire. Les colères qu'elle enferme dans le silence. Les questions auxquelles personne ne répond vraiment. Heureusement, il y a une lumière dans sa vie : sa mamie. Cette femme qui devient bien plus qu'une grand-mère. Une deuxième mère, un refuge, la seule personne capable de trouver les mots quand Luna se sent perdue. Au milieu de tout ça, il y a aussi le foot. Le terrain devient l'endroit où elle peut enfin respirer. Gardienne de but, surclassée malgré son jeune âge, Luna apprend à arrêter les ballons comme elle essaye d'arrêter les douleurs qu'elle garde à l'intérieur. Elle aime les loups parce qu'elle se reconnaît en eux : sauvages, solitaires, silencieux... mais toujours présents pour protéger ceux qu'ils aiment. En grandissant, Luna découvre aussi qui elle est vraiment, dans un monde où il est parfois difficile d'être différente. Entre les blessures familiales, les relations compliquées, les regards des autres, les doutes, les nuits trop longues et cette envie immense d'être aimée sincèrement, elle essaye de ne pas se perdre.

🌆 In a city marked by surveillance and decay, Kayser and Moon move through ruins that no longer matter. Their journeys seek not a destination, but continuity. 🌿 Caring for what little persists, accompanying what deteriorates, and maintaining small gestures-this is their silent form of resistance. 🐾 Among injured animals, gardens losing their balance, and spaces maintained more by insistence than by hope, care takes on an intimate and enduring strength. ✨ Traces of Hope offers an intimate journey exploring persistence, belonging, and the dignity of accompanying what is lost, even as the world continues moving forward without looking back.

Nikos was never meant to be a hero. Small, quiet, and overlooked in the Spartan training camp, he carried his solitude like a shadow. But in secret he forged himself into something more-running under the midnight sky, lifting stones until his body broke, and drawing strength from the silent watch of Venus above. Until one day.....

Scent of the dawn, and tales of getting lost.

A girl with nowhere to go. A hidden world beneath the mountain. A life built from nothing... and a connection she never expected. After being forced from the only place she's ever known, Sarah ventures into the wilderness with nothing but determination and a will to survive. When she stumbles upon a vast, hidden cavern-alive with its own ecosystem-she makes a choice that will change everything. She will build a life there. Alone, she learns to survive-crafting a home, growing food, and carving peace out of the unknown. But when she discovers a wounded stranger in the forest and brings him back to the cavern, her quiet world begins to shift. Xelas is strong, guarded, and from a life far different than her own. They don't share a language... but slowly, through trust, survival, and silence, something begins to grow between them. And just as quickly... he's gone. Now Sarah must face the cavern alone again-while holding onto the quiet truth she can't ignore: Some connections don't end... they wait. Cavern's Heart is a slow-burn story of survival, healing, trust, and finding belonging in the most unexpected place.

𝔄𝔧𝔢𝔢𝔟 𝔇𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔦 𝔶𝔢𝔥, 𝔨𝔞𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔲 𝔨𝔞𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔨𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔪 𝔥𝔬𝔦 𝔜𝔢𝔥 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔷𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔦 𝔨𝔬𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔦, 𝔫𝔞 𝔴𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔞𝔧𝔥 𝔰𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔫𝔞 𝔥𝔞𝔪 ---------------------- 🥀 Sirat. Her name has no last name now. Because her family had disowned her the night she ran away on her wedding day. Everyone thought of her as a selfish, arrogant girl who didn't care about anyone else but herself. But there is much more to her than anyone can ever imagine. Its been 4 years since that night, yet she is still numb and scared. |────୨ৎ──── 𔒝 Ahar Parihar. A famous, well established cricketer. Some people say he used to be a sweet, nice guy, 4 years ago. its hard to believe because all that is visible now is an arrogant, rich man. His eyes are nothing but vessels to his empty soul. That night had changed him , more than anyone could have ever imagined. 🥀 She thought she could somehow continue surviving, maybe actually live without fear of getting caught someday. But what if they cross paths again? What if he hates her more than anything and would go to any length to destroy her?

I simply think , and then write ~ feelings

just some crappy poetry to get the feels of wattpad so please be kind its not meant to be great this is about a ceilings outlook on the world

In the lingering chill of spring, Kanata-a boy who chose solitude-accidentally collides with pieces of a world he never intended to belong to. From a fateful encounter with a girl with hair as white as snow, can these small ripples break through the walls he built to protect his quiet existence?

Just a collection of random, late-night thoughts scratched down when I couldn't sleep. Expect a lot of silence, rain, cold coffee, and moody dark academia vibes.🖤 Nothing too fancy or overthought, just my silly little poems written in the quiet hours of the night. Grab a cup of coffee and get comfortable.

"Embark on a soul-stirring journey through the melodic realms of poetic expression with 'Soul Songs: A Harmonious Collection of Verses.' Within these pages lie a symphony of emotions, each verse a poignant melody that resonates with the depths of the human experience. From the haunting echoes of lost love to the triumphant crescendos of resilience and hope, these soulful compositions traverse the spectrum of human emotion with grace and authenticity. Whether you find solace in the gentle whispers of introspection or are moved by the bold declarations of passion, 'Soul Songs' offers a sanctuary where hearts can sing and spirits can soar. Let these verses serenade you, uplift you, and remind you of the beauty that resides within the rhythm of life." I hope you all love it.....

I was bored, so just give me some requests on what to write and stuff b:

This will be my compilations of works for poems. Sana magustuhan nyo.. :) Leave some words in the comments and I'll try to turn it into a poem. Thanks!