humanity

Humanity begins at home.

  • Talon Smith
    Published 19 days ago
    Simon

    Simon

    Spending a week in Chicago wasn’t exactly on my summer list of to-dos’. When my mother called me and asked me to come home, without reason, I initially said I couldn’t make it. But when she called every day after that, for four days in a row, asking the same question, I finally agreed. Partially to make her stop calling but mostly because I was curious as to what she wanted. We didn’t have the best relationship when I was younger. She was so hell bent on vodka and feeling sorry for herself that she missed dance recitals, spelling bees and even graduations. I got used to her not showing up. I got used to her choosing herself over me and eventually, I grew up to be just like her. Selfish.
  • Amanda Wilson
    Published 19 days ago
    The Bottle & The Nutcracker

    The Bottle & The Nutcracker

    Every year when the cold starts to crawl across the nation, and the warmth runs away out of its grasp, the same memory always pops up. I'm tempted to do the same thing each time but I always do the same thing every year and hold off until December 1st. I have always felt that if I strayed outside of that particular date that it would be a betrayal to some degree. I know its irrational but sometimes it really feels that severe.
  • AimsNation Conquerors
    Published 19 days ago
    JULY 4 1994

    JULY 4 1994

    on July 4th 1994 was claimed as the bloodiest day in Rwanda, a small country in the heart of Africa, millions of innocent lives were lost when this beautiful country was turned against its self by outside force’s, how do I know this? Cause I was there my self, I saw and heard everything with my own eyes and ears. I was just a baby only 1 year and a half old, my mom carried me on her back as thousands of civilians ran and fled there homes and towns as a group known as the Hutus or interahamwe made a move moment against my own kind after outside countries intervened and wispered words of death into there ears that made them become killing machines, as my mom made an attempt to flee with the group she was separated from my dad, back than he was young and really strong. That happened several times when they would get parted and days later, weeks later and even many many months later they would reunite, in that country nowhere was safe cause the war began in the democratic And republican of Congo and anywhere people decided to go, where met by nothing but guns, machetes, clubs with nails, torches, anything that could be used to kill you. There was no mercy there was blood everywhere, if you were a woman you were captured and sometimes raped before you were killed, sometimes you were lucky to come across someone who would rape you than let you go but than still, you were in danger of coming across a possible road block which they were set all over the country, most of the time this innocent woman ended up committing Suicide, even though they set them free it was useless to Cary a burden, a baby from the people who wanted to wipe them from the face of the earth, not even knowing that they would’ve to see tomorrow. If they weren’t caught hiding in fields of corn or green bananas and killed? They were eventually gonna die from starvation or deases from hiding in swamps for many many months, today I’m grateful to be living today, cause this senseless war began even before I was born, in the prior year in 1993 both the president of Rwanda and Burundi were returning home from a conference they had in the United States and Canada. At exactly 3am as the plan flew over the border in between the country, an RPG intercepted the plane blowing it into smitherines. Into a huge fire ball that shook the ground to its core. All radio and TV communications were shutdown and that’s when both countries fell into a ditch they were bullied into by other nations. As both countries fell into depression and despair? Pointing fingers at one another, that’s when they over powered us taking over the capital city of Rwanda Kigali, causing absolute chaos in there path, many peywere forced to flee into naboring countries to lay low, and as they were gone? People, brother and forgets and sons who knew what it meant to watch there country burn and dead bodies swimming in there own blood, although knowing they were out numbered and had zero advantage weapon wise? Knowing that defending there country meant committing Suicide? They formed small infentry teams, groups to go fight back taking our country back city by city. Already excepting there destiny rather they live to see the country at peace again? Or if they All die fighting? It was worth it, they weren’t going to die without fighting for the truth and the light, on that day they were called inkotanyi, hero’s, saviors and defenders, guardian angels of Rwanda, in 1994 the ultimatum was set, they we’re going to charge in rather they die or live it was up to god, as the enemy had the same mindset the inkotanyis attacked voraciously day by day, city by city, even on top of mountain Kilimanjaro, a living volcano that this hero’s turned into there military base, the enemy acting like a predator that hadn’t fed for months ran wild crushing everyone and everything in there path, those who never fled the country paid the price with there lives, with the inkotanyis being lead by the current today president of Rwanda kagame? On July 4th they made charge for the capital over whelming the enemy’s forcing some to flee in retreat? And many to lay on the ground lifeless, the man and woman who sacrificed them selves, those who left there wives, husbands, baby’s, families, were all rewarded on that day as they arose victorious, they sang and danced all night, on the next day for the many following month’s. The same groups were broken up into small teams to search for those who are in hiding, many say that as they were down deep into the hills and swampy muds, they could hear voices calling out to them, telling them that it’s okay, you could come out, the war is over we won, many not believing those words stayed hiding thinking that it’s a trick to get them to get out and than get killed. In 1998 my mom and dad moved back to Rwanda where they kinda settled, and they started to raise a family, my dad secretly left my mom to go into the capital to look for a job just so he could provide for her, he loved us so much that he searched for what ever he could so he could give us as normal of a life as he can, but unfortunately every good things has to come to and end at some time, every year on July 4th we celebrate by building the biggest bin fire you ever seen, to commemorate those who payed down there live for us so we could be here today, till this day I here that I had 2 older sisters I never knew about who unfortunately got caught by the devils hand during that nightmare, but I believe I one day we’ll get to see them again, if you enjoy this story? Let me know, this is just the genecis of it, stay tuned
  • OneMooreCrystal
    Published 19 days ago
    Get it out

    Get it out

    I'm sitting on my daughter's porch steps...again. But now it’s cold and dark. I miss J. I hate that I couldn't hold my own shit together enough to help him with his shit. He always had arms around me telling me it was gonna be okay. But I see how I have put others’ needs before his, just to secure a place to live. My anxiety and distractedness growing harder and harder to deal with. His attempts at employment triggering paranoid episodes more and more intense. And when he reached his limit and I was already shutting down, we broke. We hurt each other. Badly. We said things that never should have been said.
  • OneMooreCrystal
    Published 19 days ago
    Get it out (continued)

    Get it out (continued)

    Maybe “he” needs me or something. I don't want to be at a shelter. If he needs me I don't want to go through another night of hell in the truck with him. When he is "okay" a night of talking and snuggling in the truck is the best thing ever. When he's not "okay" it is hell. I should just ask his friend what’s up.
  • Angelica Vaux
    Published 19 days ago
    Why I'm "CraZy"

    Why I'm "CraZy"

    AGE 5 A quiet little shy girl amongst a very hostile environment, the place I called home. Mother did her best to be emotionally strong, but my father was angry all the time and he also loved alcohol.
  • Raquelita Wong
    Published 20 days ago
    Choosing to Be Mute

    Choosing to Be Mute

    Most people don’t believe that I spent a great portion of my life mute. Some think I’m a little too articulate and experienced to have previously been mute. Others think I don’t look like I’ve ever been through any type of family abuse and argue against me, declaring that I grew up from a healthy and nurturing family. Such people are the reason why mentally abused people question their own feelings and experiences, feel like they are a fraud, and thus never get help. I’m so glad I’ve learned to stop being submissive despite my roots and upbringing of being raised to be one.
  • Britney Saxon
    Published 20 days ago
    Brokenness

    Brokenness

    As I’m sitting here writing .. I’m in such a torn state. My mother disown me and made my father do the same. My siblings are fighting, even though we just lost my brother back in June. I have to decide against being broke and not working because my mother doesn’t want to keep my child or have anything to do with me anymore. Life isn’t good right now. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. My life is in shambles and there’s nobody to call on or be in my corner. I’m on the way to being homeless with my 2 year old son y’all. My heart is hurting my mind is running wild and I’m so afraid something is going to happen with my son if I don’t work. It all started because my 2 sisters got into an altercation and my mother asked me to diffuse the situation with one of them. The other called to talk to my brother while I was on the phone with the oldest. I let her know politely they were on the phone taking about her and that she needed to hear so they could I see why each other felt the way they did. My mother cursed me out and I did the same back to her (I get defensive, I didn’t mean it). Every since then my mother has been saying harsh things about me. I don’t have a car or house but I’m trying so hard to make a way. I’m broken-hearted, how could a mother turn her back on her child over words. How could u try to play the victim and you cursed me first? I’m living in torture. Everyday and night I hear the same crap, the name calling putting down etc. but how so and you’re my mother!?!?? It’s 10 of us. Well one has passed , oh how I miss my sweet angel! I feel like the black sheep. I feel like dying is my only way out sometimes but then I think about my son. My Messiah. Everything I do is for him. I try to work as much as possible so I can get him what he wants and needs. It’s always somebody with their hand out. It makes it hard to save and that’s why I don’t have a car or house. I’m in this alone. My son is the only good thing and God that I have in my life. My baby said to me the other day “Mommy calm down” as I was getting him dressed. Two years old y’all!!! I can’t lose him I’d never be the same. My life is in shambles but I’ll pick myself up somehow. I just need prayers prayers and more prayers. I just can’t imagine my life without messiah. My heart is hurting and it’s fragile but that’s ok I’ll heal. Losing my son is something I’ll never be able to live with so please please please hear my cries and send prayers. I don’t know what could’ve happened. Now it feels like I’m being watched talked about, every time I come in the house. I’m depressed but this is like a whole mother depressed. I don’t even want to come home... technically it’s not mine. I just want a place for me and my son because I don’t want the negativity and toxic to spread of on him. I want my son to be taught love and not hate. My heart is aching for my boy every single day. My son cries every time I leave for work. I just want him to be happy with me. I want him to have fun and not me stay away from him for hours on hours everyday. I explain to him mommy is coming back .. mommy just trying to make ways for us. My life is so hard right now. God will restore, I do believe.
  • Cristina Sacchi
    Published 20 days ago
    Memories of Flavors From Long Ago

    Memories of Flavors From Long Ago

    I was born and raised in Rome, Italy. My dad is from Rome, my mom from a tiny bitty village from the very tip of the boot! While we lived in Rome, our family core has deeply been centered on the heritage of my mom's side of the family.
  • OneMooreCrystal
    Published 20 days ago
    Get It Out

    Get It Out

    So I am sitting on my daughter's front porch steps. And after praying for guidance and for the Holy Spirit to fill me and help me, I thought I would just write and get it out.
  • Rebecca Smith
    Published 20 days ago
    Open Letters to My Mama - Letter Two

    Open Letters to My Mama - Letter Two

    Dear Mama, So, here we are. My second letter, not that you’ve probably even read the first one. I know you’re busy and have a lot on, so reading this is probably very low on your to-do list. But anyway, here we are with the second one regardless. Clearly the first one didn’t work, because you’re still insulting yourself about the way you look (which is pissing me off, but I know that’s not going to change over-night). So, what to tackle this time? There is always so much that I want to say to you, but when I write, my mind goes blank. That’s probably a huge reflection of my anxiety and not liking the whole ‘share feelings’ thing. But I shall push through my own shit, and rant about how incredibly inspirational you are.
  • Megan Moore
    Published 21 days ago
    Welcome to the crazy life of Momboss

    Welcome to the crazy life of Momboss

    Hey ya’ll! Thanks for taking the time to visit my story! I am a mother to two little boys who are 9 and 11 so we’re hitting those attitude ages! I have a bf I’m madly in love with. We are currently looking for a new place to call home. It’s been exhausting searching for a new home. We’ve been together for a year and 3 months almost. We have been through he** with each other. If you come back and read my daily stories about my crazy life and how I should have died twice but the Lord saved me. I’m here to tell my story. Let’s say we’ve been to three funerals within a year. That seems like bad luck. Then we’ve both had serious surgeries this year. Those are crazy stories I will soon tell! Sneak bit.... firey car crash and a broken penis. Yeah! Crazy life like I said!