Humanity
Impact of ChatGPT on Indian IT sector Can be serious
Appears chatGPT is at the forefront of everybody's thoughts for its uncanny capacity to play out a different arrangement of undertakings. Be that as it may, JP Morgan has something to add to it. On Friday, JP Morgan experts delivered a report recommending that far and wide variation of generative artificial intelligence models like chatGPT will influence the Indian IT area adversely regarding piece of the pie and estimating for Indian IT organizations, to some degree in present moment.
By ARTIST4 years ago in Confessions
Saint Valentine's Day symbol of love
Saint Valentine's Day is a holiday celebrated on February 14th, in honor of Saint Valentine, a Christian martyr. The history of Saint Valentine and the origins of the holiday are somewhat shrouded in mystery, but there are several legends that have been passed down through the centuries.
By Emmanuel Andrew4 years ago in Confessions
George.
If walls could talk. I wish. I saw a murder today. I’ve seen people getting mugged, stabbed and even throw up. I’m a New York City subway wall after all. People spray paint, spit and pee on me. But that’s neither here nor there. The murder was absolutely brutal, the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed in all my days since this subway was built. And that was in the 1890s can you believe it. The worst sight. And I can’t run away, call for help, scream! Oh, how I wish I could scream. Or at least help the poor man that laid there dead for over 5 hours. I had to stay here and just watch a lifeless man for over 5 hours. And don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t because no one walked by. Every so often someone would walk by, and just glance at him! They probably thought that he was a homeless man sleeping. His name was George. I know that because he actually is homeless, and I think he believed that I was his home. He slept on me every single day and night. He would tell me all about his life. About how his childhood was. About how he used to get beaten by his mother. And about his first hit of a pipe. George seemed so sad. And now he’s dead. Too bad I can’t talk, because I actually recognized the person who killed him. He comes by from time to time to catch the train. It’s usually very late at night, when there is barely no one down here. Around 6 hours before it starts getting busy, I think people call it midnight, I’m not too sure. But today he came, and was acting like George when he hits his pipe sometimes. Scratching himself and yelling at nothing. He was walking and almost fell of the tracks. He caught himself and seemed very scared. He looked behind him, I’m assuming thinking someone tried to push him on the tracks. I say this due to the way he abruptly turned around and spotted George. He started running up to him, yelling words I’ve never heard before. He then started hitting George, who was just as confused as I was, since George was just peacefully watching him with me. George is a small man. He’s old and doesn’t have any friends but me. He didn’t put up too much of a fight. Looking back at it, he actually didn’t seem to fight back at all. I think this angered the high man, because the next thing that he did was pull out a pocket knife and started stabbing George. It was so sad to see. To have to bare witness to my friends life leave his body, and turn to stone. There were some days where I wish that me and George could trade places. So I then could walk and talk and interact with other humans, but on this day I took that wish back. I knew that the subway was a scary place at times. But to know what it like to be human and then be turned to stone without your consent… is absolutely terrifying. I don’t wish to be about of their society anymore. Today, I lost faith… and I lost a friend. The only person who spoke to me as if I was somebody, as if he could hear me. The guy ended up running away when he realized what he had done. When enough blood poured out of George, for someone to step in its puddle… that’s when he finally was found. Police arrived and then the ambulance. I over heard the coo talk about how there wasn’t much evidence to go off of. And how he was homless so there wasn’t much they could do. If only I could talk… there would be.
By BirdScripts4 years ago in Confessions
George.
If walls could talk. I wish. I saw a murder today. I’ve seen people getting mugged, stabbed and even throw up. I’m a New York City subway wall after all. People spray paint, spit and pee on me. But that’s neither here nor there. The murder was absolutely brutal, the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed in all my days since this subway was built. And that was in the 1890s can you believe it. The worst sight. And I can’t run away, call for help, scream! Oh how I wish I could scream. Or at least help the poor man that laid there dead for over 5 hours. I had to stay here and just watch a lifeless man for over 5 hours. And don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t because no one walked by. Every so often someone would walk by, and just glance at him! They probably thought that he was a homeless man sleeping. His name was George. I know that because he actually is homeless, and I think he believed that I was his home. He slept on me every single day and night. He would tell me all about his life. About how his childhood was. About how he used to get beaten by his mother. And about his first hit of a pipe. George seemed so sad. And now he’s dead. Too bad I can’t talk, because I actually recognized the person who killed him. He comes by from time to time to catch the train. It’s usually very late at night, when there is barely no one down here. Around 6 hours before it starts getting busy, I think people call it midnight, I’m not too sure. But today he came, and was acting like George when he hits his pipe sometimes. Scratching himself and yelling at nothing. He was walking and almost fell of the tracks. He caught himself and seemed very scared. He looked behind him, I’m assuming thinking someone tried to push him on the tracks. I say this due to the way he abruptly turned around and spotted George. He started running up to him, yelling words I’ve never heard before. He then started hitting George, who was just as confused as I was, since George was just peacefully watching him with me. George is a small man. He’s old and doesn’t have any friends but me. He didn’t put up too much of a fight. Looking back at it, he actually didn’t seem to fight back at all. I think this angered the high man, because the next thing that he did was pull out a pocket knife and started stabbing George. It was so sad to see. To have to bare witness to my friends life leave his body, and turn to stone. There were some days where I wish that me and George could trade places. So I then could walk and talk and interact with other humans, but on this day I took that wish back. I knew that the subway was a scary place at times. But to know what it like to be human and then be turned to stone without your consent… is absolutely terrifying. I don’t wish to be about of their society anymore. Today I lost faith and I lost a friend. The only person who spoke to me as if I was somebody. The guy ended up running away when he realized what he had done. When enough blood poured out of George, for someone to step in its puddle… that’s when he finally was found. Police arrived and then the ambulance. I over heard the coo talk about how there wasn’t much evidence to go off of. And how he was homless so there wasn’t much they could do. If only I could talk… there would be.
By BirdScripts4 years ago in Confessions
"Riding the Rollercoaster: Navigating the Ups and Downs of Emotion"
"Riding the Rollercoaster: Navigating the Ups and Downs of Emotion" Ups and Downs of Emotions: Humans experience a wide range of emotions, and the most common emotion changeovers that people experience can vary based on different factors such as personality, culture, and life experiences. However, here are some of the most common emotion changeovers that humans may have:
By Vinoth Rajendran4 years ago in Confessions
If Walls Could Talk
“If walls could talk” Is a phrase I have heard time and again. - I stand still. Stoic and proud. A witness to a race of beautifully depraved creatures. I am pockmarked from years of forgotten furniture. To the centre left there is a sizeable dent. An armoire from the seventeenth century, brought over from France to create a sense of undeserved familiarity for the Baron’s new wife.
By Amie 4 years ago in Confessions
Humanity
Arjun was a successful businessman who had everything he could ever want in life: a luxurious house, a fast car, a thriving business, and a beautiful wife. He had worked hard to get to where he was, and he was proud of his achievements. However, along the way, he had forgotten the value of humanity.
By Pratheep Kumar.K4 years ago in Confessions
what is the freedom
Opportunity is a significant idea in the sonnet Opportunity Opportunity is an all inclusive idea that has been commended and treasured by individuals from varying backgrounds, from all societies and all times. It is the foundation of a vote based system, common freedoms, and civil rights. In the sonnet "Opportunity," the artist thinks about the significance of this significant thought and its job in shaping our lives, our social orders, and our reality. Through strong symbolism, distinctive language, and close to home profundity, the artist investigates the excellence, the power, and the intricacy of opportunity. The sonnet is a demonstration of the human soul and its ceaseless journey for more prominent grasping, opportunity, and satisfaction.
By xis-kaab124 years ago in Confessions
MYSTERY
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled deep in the mountains, there was a mysterious house that had been abandoned for many years. The house had been the talk of the village for as long as anyone could remember, with many rumors and stories swirling around it.
By Mohan Ramu4 years ago in Confessions
India’s Calling
So, today I received my first cellular telephone in the mail. I wanted to make sure this cell phone thing wasn’t just another fad before I jumped in. It was well packaged. In other words, it took a hammer, chisel, scissors, and two kitchen knives to open the damned shipping box. When I finally tore the box open, parts scattered like cockroaches across the dining room floor and beyond. I’m not certain all the parts were collected and inserted properly, which may have been the problem.
By Tina D'Angelo4 years ago in Confessions
