The most insidious battle being waged against the soul of America today is not happening on the border or in the halls of Congress; it is happening in the classrooms, museums, and corporate boardrooms, through a relentless, culturally corrosive attack on our own history. They are engaged in a project of national self-hatred, attempting to burn the foundational texts and topple the statues of the very men who engineered the greatest experiment in human liberty the world has ever known.

The grand, multilateral stage upon which our global leaders currently dance is an embarrassing display of weakness disguised as statesmanship. For decades, we have been conditioned to believe that global harmony requires endless dialogue, constant meetings, and the signing of beautifully worded, utterly meaningless documents. This philosophy, championed by the establishment class that views American strength as an unfortunate necessity rather than a prerequisite for peace, is precisely why the world sees us as soft targets.

The moralizing screeching that accompanies every discussion about capital punishment in this country is deafening, yet it willfully ignores the foundational question of economics and societal utility. When the state has already condemned an individual—when they have forfeited every right to freedom through heinous, irreversible actions—we are left with a profound fiscal and moral dilemma. Why do we choose to execute them, thereby destroying all potential future value, when we could instead repurpose that human capital for the revitalization of our nation?

The Left loves to scream about "trickle-down economics," positioning themselves as the great saviors who must directly pour wealth from Washington into the hands of the people. They see government spending as a moral imperative for redistribution. But what they fail to grasp—and what true conservative thinkers like myself understand—is that targeted stimulus, when done correctly, is not charity; it is strategic economic warfare waged against the entrenched bureaucracy.

This is an essay that I wrote on my experience with sharing my traumatic experiences people and learning that not everyone who calls you a friend, isn't really a friend.

The whispers have grown into a roar, and frankly, they are correct. The notion that the 22nd Amendment is some kind of sacred text that must be observed, even when the survival of the nation is at stake, is a dangerous indulgence we can no longer afford. We are not talking about a standard election cycle; we are talking about a moment of existential threat to the very foundation of American liberty. Donald J. Trump must run for a third term, and we, the patriots who still believe in this nation’s greatness, must find the legal and political pathway to make it happen.

When we look south of our border, to the nation of Venezuela, we are not just witnessing a geopolitical footnote; we are observing a horror show in real-time—a clear, flashing neon sign that spells out the ultimate consequence of abandoning fundamental American principles. This isn't just about some distant country’s poor economic choices; it is the textbook tragedy of what happens when socialism, enabled by the weakness of global leadership, consumes a republic.

The modern obsession with what they call "safety"—be it physical, emotional, or intellectual—has morphed into a dangerous philosophy of coddling that fundamentally undermines the American spirit. We are witnessing the systematic dismantling of resilience in favor of manufactured comfort. And nowhere is this soft rot more evident than in the proliferation of the so-called "safe space."

The sheer fiscal insanity of the modern correctional system is a scandal that every tax-paying American should be furious about. We are told—begrudgingly—that we must maintain our moral high ground, that we must treat those who have violently rejected the social contract with the same comforts we struggle to afford our own working families. This is not morality; it is masochism dressed up as progressivism.

It’s the irony that always gets me. It’s the thick, choking irony of the modern American street corner, and frankly, it’s enough to make a decent man spit out his coffee. We talk about institutions, about systems, about who is *truly* the oppressor in this country, and yet, the loudest voices making these claims are often the ones most deeply steeped in a culture of glorifying precisely the kind of chaos they claim to despise.

As a proud supporter of Donald Trump and a veteran who has served in the United States military, I, Stuart Davis, have witnessed firsthand the values that make our country great. One of the most challenging conversations in today’s society revolves around the topic of race and racism. The media, academic institutions, and activist groups often push a narrative that anyone who questions their views is labeled a racist. This transcript aims to present my perspective on how to engage and counter arguments made by so-called “anti-racists” in discussions about race. Drawing from my experiences, I intend to provide a clear and respectful strategy for defending my beliefs while upholding the American values I fought to protect.

Audio producer herself, Elara is here to share a story about having inner strength as opposed to jealousy. Enjoy.

In this, we go over the topic of Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). It's not easy to live with and I hope this helps you or someone you know!

The first four months of a new baby are some of the hardest months I've ever done. Between losing your help to feeling alone you go through a lot

A young writer tries to find her voice in the midst of being haunted by her own self-criticisms as she thought she could change the world someday but doubts every word she writes but when somebody she once knew comes back in her life, even just for a few moments, her perspective starts to change and she finally starts to realize her true potential and what can offer to the world. Guided by love and courage, she learns to push past the anxiety and perfectionism and rediscover what inspired her to write in the first place.

The poetry of my mind that my mouth can't express. The reason of my well being. It is a story and autobiography.

Father Hurt Gone Passed away Feelings Life goes on Fuck this shit Abuse Pain Forgiveness Heartache

I needed to say this out loud, because silence kept protecting the wrong person. It takes someone deeply disconnected from themselves to lie without flinching, to manipulate love into a weapon, to spend years tearing someone down while watching them try harder. For three years, I gave everything I had—emotionally, mentally, spiritually, believing effort could fix what was never meant to be healthy. I kept showing up, even when I was shrinking. I kept forgiving, even when it cost me pieces of myself. I lost myself.

A poem on how looking in the mirror at myself has made me feel and slowly climbing out out that deep and dark viewpoint.

This first poem is called "Fractured Mirrors" in this poem I talk about what the mirror can not physically say, but we feel it what it says and it stings