advice
Dating, married, single, divorced, and more. Advice on the relationships you have in life. Dear, Humans..
Top 10 Hookup Tips for Guys
Hookups are a fantasy for most people. At some point in your life, you certainly must have thought about just having a passionate fling with someone. For many, it remains an unfulfilled fantasy whereas others try and fail. However, it’s not something to fear or be apprehensive about.
By Alice Naraaabout a year ago in Humans
The Morning After the Goodbye
The Morning After the Goodbye By: Abdullah The alarm went off at 7:00 a.m., just like it always did. The same sharp sound, the same vibration across the nightstand. But when I opened my eyes, the room felt different heavier somehow. The space beside me was empty. Not just empty in the way a bed usually is when someone wakes up early, but hollow, echoing. The blanket still carried his scent, faint but undeniable, like a shadow that refused to leave. I lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling. I thought maybe if I didn’t move, if I didn’t let the day begin, then the goodbye from last night would somehow undo itself. Maybe I would hear his voice in the kitchen, maybe he would come back with coffee and tell me it was all a mistake. But the silence was unbroken. When I finally stood, the floor was cold beneath my feet. I walked to the kitchen out of habit, and that’s when the ordinariness hit me hardest. The coffee mug he always used was still in the cupboard. His shoes were still by the door. There wasn’t a dramatic erasure of him no empty shelves or bare walls just the same ordinary objects, suddenly transformed into reminders. I made coffee, but it tasted different. Bitterer, even though I hadn’t changed the amount of sugar. Maybe it wasn’t the coffee. Maybe it was me. I sat at the table, staring at the chair across from me. The chair that had held arguments and laughter, late-night conversations and quiet silences. Now it was just wood and fabric. It’s strange how objects lose their meaning when the person who gave them meaning is gone. The morning after a goodbye is not loud. It doesn’t scream. It doesn’t break down doors. It whispers in small ways. The toothbrush still next to yours. The way you instinctively set out two plates before remembering there’s only one now. The sudden, unbearable quiet when you realize no one will be texting to ask if you got to work safely. I tried to keep busy. That’s what people always say to do. Wash the dishes. Fold the laundry. But each task only echoed back the absence. Every sock folded reminded me of the ones missing. Every plate stacked reminded me of dinners for two. At some point, I sat on the couch and let the ordinary sounds of the outside world reach me a dog barking, a car horn, children running past on their way to school. Life was moving on as if nothing had changed. And maybe for the world, nothing had. But for me, everything had. I thought about the goodbye itself. The words exchanged, the tears, the final look. I replayed it like a movie scene, pausing and rewinding, searching for the moment I could have changed. Could I have said something different? Could I have asked him to stay? But then another voice, quieter but firmer, whispered: “No. It was always going to end this way.” And that’s the cruel truth about endings. They don’t always explode. Sometimes they arrive quietly, like the sun setting, leaving you in a darkness you didn’t notice until it was complete. By noon, I realized I hadn’t eaten. The thought of food made my stomach twist, but I made a sandwich anyway. I took one bite and set it down. Hunger wasn’t stronger than grief. I spent the afternoon wandering through the apartment, touching things I didn’t need to touch. The book he left half-read. The sweater draped over the chair. My own reflection in the mirror eyes swollen, face tired. I didn’t recognize myself, but then again, why would I? I wasn’t the same person I was yesterday. As evening approached, I went to the window. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, just like any other day. And for the first time, I realized that the world wasn’t cruel in its indifference. It was steady. Reliable. The sun would rise again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. That thought didn’t heal me, but it gave me something else: the faintest thread of comfort. The morning after the goodbye was unbearable, yes, but it was also proof that I was still here. That even with the silence, the emptiness, the ache I was still breathing. And maybe that’s all healing is at first. Not moving on. Not forgetting. Just surviving the mornings after. One at a time.
By Abdullah Khan about a year ago in Humans
The love I never thought I’d find
I grew up in believing the Disney-style of love, where the good guys will meet their one true love and they live happily ever after. I thought that if I was kind and patient enough, someone will come into my life and I’ll live the Disney dream. I aspired to be as Disney-like as I could, except for the“talking to animals” part. I did try - but I just looked crazy and I got annoyed that I was basically talking to myself. I kept a pet rock, though, so that’s a bonus.
By Ethel Audreyabout a year ago in Humans
How Rental Property Management Software Can Save You Time & Money
Managing rental properties can be challenging for property owners. From tracking rent payments and leases to handling maintenance requests, managing properties manually can consume countless hours every week. Mistakes in record-keeping or delayed responses to tenants can lead to lost revenue and dissatisfied tenants. Rental property management software provides an effective solution to these problems by automating daily operations, improving organization, and enhancing efficiency. Whether you manage a single property or multiple units, such software helps save time, minimize errors, and reduce costs.
By Ava Bennettabout a year ago in Humans
How to Transition College Outfits from Day Classes to Night Games . AI-Generated.
College life can feel like a marathon. Some days start with early morning classes, flow into study sessions, and finish with late-night games, concerts, or campus events. Constantly changing outfits isn’t always practical—especially if you’re juggling a packed schedule and a small dorm closet. The good news? With the right approach, you can create versatile looks that easily shift from day to night without missing a beat
By Addison Hulseabout a year ago in Humans
The Light Within
Start writing.In a quiet village nestled between emerald hills and winding rivers, lived a man named Arman. He wasn’t famous, wealthy, or powerful, but everyone who met him remembered him. There was something about his presence—calm, warm, and unshakably kind—that made people feel better just by being around him. Arman lived a simple life. He ran a small repair shop where he fixed everything from broken radios to old bicycles. But it wasn't just his hands that worked wonders; it was his heart. Every person who walked into his shop left not only with a fixed item but also with renewed hope. People often wondered how he remained so positive. Life hadn’t always been easy for Arman. He had lost his parents young, struggled through years of poverty, and faced betrayal from close friends. Yet, he chose to see each trial as a teacher. One day, a young boy named Sami came into the shop holding a shattered clock. His eyes were filled with frustration. “My father gave me this before he left. It’s broken. Everything breaks,” he muttered. Arman took the clock gently. “Sometimes,” he said, examining the pieces, “things need to fall apart to show us how they truly work. And sometimes, we can rebuild them even stronger.” The boy watched as Arman worked patiently. He didn’t rush. He didn’t complain. He smiled, focused, and fixed each gear with care. Within an hour, the clock was ticking again. “But how do you stay so... happy?” Sami asked, eyes wide. Arman looked up and smiled. “I’m not always happy. But I always choose to see the light—even when it’s hidden.” That phrase stayed with Sami. Years passed, and Arman continued to touch lives quietly. He volunteered at the local school, helped neighbors without being asked, and stood up for the right thing—even when it cost him. When the village council tried to shut down a local shelter claiming it was “too much trouble,” Arman was the first to speak out. “These people are not trouble—they are tired. They need support, not shame,” he said firmly. His words sparked a conversation that led to the shelter staying open. Arman didn’t speak loudly, but when he did, people listened. His actions were his voice—clear, compassionate, and correct. Then, one winter, Arman fell ill. The village held its breath. For once, the man who gave so much needed help himself. To everyone’s surprise, people from all corners of the village came forward—fixing his shop, bringing meals, sitting by his bedside. Children drew cards. The elderly offered prayers. Even strangers, hearing his story, came to offer support. When he recovered months later, Arman was overwhelmed. “I never expected this,” he whispered to Sami, now a teenager. “You gave this to us,” Sami said. “Your light taught us to shine too.” Arman looked out at the sunrise, golden light spilling over the hills. “The world doesn’t need perfect people,” he said softly. “It needs those willing to be kind, even when it’s hard. Honest, even when it’s costly. Positive, even when the world is dark.” He paused and placed a hand over his heart. “Because the real light—the one that never fades—comes from within.” --- Arman never sought recognition, but his story lived on long after he was gone. Not in statues or books, but in the daily choices of those who knew him—choosing kindness over cruelty, truth over convenience, and light over despair. And so, in that quiet village, the man who lived simply left behind something extraordinary: a legacy of goodness, built not on grand deeds, but on small, consistent acts of light. ..
By Muhammad Saad about a year ago in Humans
Why I Stopped Chasing Perfection
The Endless Chase For years, I carried a heavy weight on my shoulders. The weight wasn’t visible, but it shaped everything I did. It was the need to be perfect. Perfect at work, perfect in relationships, perfect in how I looked, spoke, and even how I rested.
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Humans
The Quiet Chapters That Shaped Me
Photo by Jon Tyson on UnsplashI've been staring at this blank page for about twenty minutes now, wondering how exactly you're supposed to tell someone who you are in a way that doesn't sound completely self-absorbed or like a job interview gone wrong.
By noor ul aminabout a year ago in Humans
24 Hours Without My Phone: A Digital Detox Experiment. AI-Generated.
I can’t remember the last time I went more than an hour without checking my phone. From the moment I wake up to the minute I fall asleep, that small glowing screen is my alarm clock, my calendar, my news source, my entertainment, and my connection to the outside world. Like many people, I’ve often told myself, “I could stop anytime if I wanted to.” But deep down, I wasn’t so sure. So I decided to run a small experiment. Nothing fancy. No long retreat or expensive detox program. Just me, my daily life, and 24 hours with no phone. Completely off. No exceptions. --- Why I Chose to Do It It wasn’t a random decision. Over the past few months, I noticed how restless I had become. Anytime I had a spare minute—waiting in line, sitting at the bus stop, or even during conversations—I reached for my phone. Scrolling had become automatic. Worse, I felt drained by the end of the day, even though I hadn’t done much that was meaningful. I wanted to know: what would my day look like if I didn’t have this constant digital companion? --- The First Hour: Withdrawal Is Real When I woke up on the morning of the experiment, my hand instinctively reached toward the nightstand. The empty space where my phone usually sat felt strange. I had to get out of bed without my usual morning ritual of checking messages, emails, and headlines. Instead, I brushed my teeth, made coffee, and sat quietly. The silence was uncomfortable at first. My mind was racing, and I felt the itch to check something—anything. It was like phantom limb syndrome, but for my phone. --- Relearning Simple Tasks One of the first challenges was time. Normally, I’d check the clock on my phone. Without it, I had to dig up an old wristwatch I hadn’t worn in years. Cooking breakfast without YouTube in the background also felt oddly empty. But as I went through my morning, something unexpected happened: things slowed down. Instead of rushing through chores while half-distracted by a podcast or notifications, I noticed the smell of my coffee, the sound of sizzling eggs, the way sunlight streamed through the window. --- Conversations Felt Different Later that morning, I met a friend for brunch. Normally, my phone would sit on the table, screen facing down but always present, always ready to steal my attention with a buzz. This time, it wasn’t there. The conversation felt richer. I wasn’t glancing down every five minutes. I wasn’t tempted to check who else might be “out there.” I was simply present. And my friend noticed. At one point she said, “You’re more focused today. It’s nice.” That comment stuck with me. --- Boredom Hit Hard By the afternoon, though, the boredom set in. Normally, I’d scroll through social media, watch short videos, or play a quick game to fill the gaps. Without that option, I had to face the empty moments head-on. It felt uncomfortable. My brain kept craving stimulation. But boredom has its gifts. Instead of scrolling, I picked up a book that had been gathering dust on my shelf. I read for nearly an hour without realizing it. Something I hadn’t done in months. --- Evening Without Distraction The evening was the most surprising part of the experiment. Usually, I’d spend hours jumping between apps, texting, and binge-watching videos until midnight. Without my phone, I had to find something else. I cooked dinner slowly, put on some music from an old speaker, and actually savored the meal. Later, I went for a short walk around my neighborhood. The air felt cooler, the sky clearer. It sounds cliché, but it was like waking up to a world I’d been ignoring. --- The Hardest Moment The toughest part came at night, lying in bed. Normally, I’d scroll until my eyes got heavy. Without that distraction, I had to sit with my thoughts. At first, it was uncomfortable—my brain replayed every worry, every unfinished task. But eventually, I felt a sense of calm. I fell asleep earlier than usual and slept more deeply. --- What I Learned By the end of the 24 hours, I was surprised at how different I felt. Here are the biggest lessons: 1. Phones fill silence, but silence is powerful. I realized how much I avoid stillness, even though it gives space for reflection and creativity. 2. I was more present with people. Without the distraction of notifications, conversations had more depth. 3. Boredom sparked creativity. Instead of numbing myself with endless scrolling, I turned to books, writing, and even small walks. 4. My stress levels dropped. I didn’t realize how much constant information overload was draining me until I removed it. --- Back to Reality The next day, I turned my phone back on. Notifications poured in like a waterfall, pulling me right back into the digital current. But I felt different. The experiment gave me a new awareness of my habits. Now, I don’t plan to throw my phone away or move into the mountains. But I’ve started setting boundaries: no phone at the dinner table, no scrolling before bed, and at least one “phone-free hour” every evening. --- Final Thoughts Going 24 hours without my phone didn’t completely change my life, but it gave me something even more valuable: perspective. It reminded me that my phone is a tool, not a master. That the world outside the screen is still full of beauty, silence, and connection—if I’m willing to look up. Maybe you don’t need a full day without your phone, but try an hour. Sit with the silence, the boredom, the restlessness. You might be surprised by what you discover. ---
By Sigma writes about a year ago in Humans
Gemini Woman and Pisces Man Compatibility Score. AI-Generated.
The Gemini woman and Pisces man pairing is one of the most fascinating yet complex unions in the zodiac. On one hand, Gemini (an Air sign) thrives on mental stimulation, versatility, and adventure. She is witty, charming, and ever-evolving in her moods and interests. On the other hand, Pisces (a Water sign) is deeply intuitive, sensitive, and romantic. He thrives in the realm of emotions, imagination, and spiritual connections.
By Inspire and Funabout a year ago in Humans
