Liv Stecker
Stories (6/0)
Tomorrow Never Comes
It’s weird how life takes you on these loops. You start out thinking you know what you want to do, or need to do, or expecting a certain outcome, or being certain you will never have an outcome you’d like, and then you forget about all of that while you Just Survive and suddenly you look back and there you are, where you never thought you’d be, or exactly where you didn’t dare to hope you’d end up, but somehow it all ties back to a moment in your past when you decided. You decided something. You took one step and it landed you a million miles away on an entirely different planet.
By Liv Stecker2 years ago in Longevity
Be a Dog
I was having this conversation with somebody about what “unconditional” means, trying to remove it from the lineup of enigmatic words that we throw around without taking the time to really grasp the concept; words like love, commitment, trust , breakfast, etc.
By Liv Stecker2 years ago in Petlife
Blue Violets
The only thing more art-inspiring and enduring than love is it’s opposite, hate. Millions of songs are composed lauding the romance and devotion of lovers over the ages, but close on the heels of dedicated bliss are poems and songs of hate, betrayal and despair.
By Liv Stecker3 years ago in Humans
The Irony of Fate
Satoshi Nakamoto The irony was thick. In Japanese, the words mean “central intelligence,” but the goal of the project would decentralize and confound some of the most “intelligent” minds in the world. It was a fast agreement when somebody suggested the name. We were working in tech, and racial profiling was alive and well. Nobody will question the validity of tech developed by an Asian. To be fair, we had an asian in the group, although he wasn’t Japanese. Malaysian, more precisely, but again, for those of you who think we’ve got this race thing figured out these days, you’d be wrong. The rest of the team was as random as they come. White guy from back east, and Indian from Great Britain, a valley girl from up the road and some dude that crawled out his mom’s basement in Indiana to write world-changing code. Our names aren’t important. We know what we’ve done.
By Liv Stecker3 years ago in The Chain
The Switch up
The snackscape has changed. There was a time that the gameday spread at my house would rival a deep south buffet, complete with all of the dips, wings, meatballs, every variety of chip known to man, and a robust sourdough bowl overflowing with cheese-laden chili. Not this year. We didn't even rock the football shaped snack plates or green-turf garland with little dangling pigskins.
By Liv Stecker3 years ago in Unbalanced
Hippie Chick
Maybe it was the Jameson. Maybe it was the mischievous spark in her eye. Maybe the combination of the two was just enough to impair my decision-making faculties that night. Either way I couldn’t stop wondering what she was scratching in that little black notebook with the stub of a pencil that had been chewed beyond recognition on one end. It was definitely the Jameson that gave me the courage to ask her about it. Hippie chicks weren’t normally my thing, but she was something else. I sauntered over with my wing man in tow, true military style. I hadn’t been back from my last deployment for long and it was good to be back stateside, where I was fairly confident she’d at least speak english.
By Liv Stecker3 years ago in Humans