fact or fiction
Is it a fact or is it merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores relationship myths and truths to get your head out of the clouds and back into romantic reality.
BENEFIT EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE IN TABLE TENNIS
When it comes to table tennis and psychology, emotional intelligence is an important topic. Emotional intelligence is a term that is not only gaining more and more importance in table tennis. There are now countless books about this. At this point the topic is only touched on or the most important aspect of emotional intelligence is explained. Emotional intelligence means: 1. Recognizing your own feelings and 2. Reacting intelligently to these feelings. That's the whole secret. There are many feelings. In table tennis, however, we are particularly familiar with the negative feelings of anger, anger and helplessness, as well as the positive feeling of joy. Positive feelings usually don't cause problems. On the other hand, feelings that are experienced as negative can also have negative effects.
By Sagar Chede5 years ago in Humans
Zurai
She sat staring at the check; the edge peeking out of the notebook like the taunting tongue of a child. ‘He knew that would be the one I picked. “How?”, she mouthed quietly to herself as she shook her head. Well, no matter … She pushed herself up and headed to the shower; “I Am Grateful” she said aloud, and she was. Grateful for the opportunity to move forward; thanks to Nabode.
By Lion Queen5 years ago in Humans
Clarity
Stefani lifted her feet to cross the threshold of the Clarity as she did twice a week for twenty-one years. The bar was not always called Clarity, but it had always been less than two blocks from her apartment. The previous owners sold the place, and the new owners rebranded. Stefani did not know the new owners’ names, but she appreciated that they kept everything the same. The blue paint chipping off of the doorframe bore the same cracks of time weathering Stefani’s face.
By Caleb Howell5 years ago in Humans
Merlot Charming
Her palms were sweating slightly, she grimaced as she lifted her arms to allow the air under them. She was sweating there too. At least there was a breeze on the patio. The breeze, which offered a brief reprieve from the sticky humidity helped cool her, but it certainly wasn’t doing her long chestnut hair any favors. Her curls were falling already, she reached up to smooth and reshape them with her fingers. What a disaster, he would be here any second and she was deteriorating like an Alka-Seltzer tablet in soda water. She looked down at her sleek watch, 8:12. Or maybe he wouldn’t be. She hadn’t realized how late he was. Only self-absorbed or immature men are late on a first date, so this would be yet, another waste of time and effort. Why did she keep putting herself through this? Why, for the love of all things good, didn’t she just stay home in sweats, get a cat or two and settle for herself. Why not just be person who wouldn’t be repeatedly tortured with unfortunate experience after unfortunate experience? Blind dates were so stupid. Hours of time spent to style her hair, her nails, to shave, to artfully draw on her face, to pour herself into uncomfortable under-garments, and shove her feet into murderous shoes.
By Heather Foster5 years ago in Humans
Witchdoktor
For many generations, the Gray Moon tribe coexisted peacefully with the world around them. Deep in the Rio Claro forest on the south side of the island of Trinidad, the Gray Moon led their lives, largely untainted by the outside world. Ships would pass by on the north side of the island, docking on the piers of Port-of-Spain, the island's capital. Travelers from the Gray Moon tribe would ready their wagons and transport tribal goods to the town to barter for items from the town merchants. The tribal folk were always met with suspicion when they came into town. Women would pull their children close to them and old men would spit at the tribesmen when they passed by on their carts. Sometimes, a rowdy youngster would try to stir up the horses and cause havoc for the tribesmen. No matter. Each time Sabro and Shalumi came to town, they knew what to expect. The tribal Chief, Mainopu, forbade the townsfolk from engaging in fisticuffs or magics with the townsfolk. Sabro had formed a sort of business rapport with one of the merchants that sold meats and cheeses. These were welcome delicacies for the tribe. In turn, Sabro presented the merchant, Georges Duchaine, with exotic tribal goods, like beaded gowns and strands of mother-of-pearl necklaces. All artfully crafted by the tribal folk. Shalumi and his family had gathered sugar cane and tea leaves which fetched a good coin because of the demand from the Crown for rum and exotic teas. Coin was largely useless to the Tribe, so Sabro and Shalumi would spend as much as they could in town, making sure that they got not only the staple items, but also specialty items and trinkets that could be used as mystical components in their rituals and magics. The merchants never questioned them as to why they would want to walk away with pig's innards and spoiled fish bones. The less they knew the better. The market area of Port-of-Spain had grown over the thirty years since the town was named the capital by the Spanish government, and with the constant influx of merchant ships from Europe and the Americas, there were many foods and wares to see. Sabro and Shalumi were always ready to defend themselves and their goods should there be any signs of a threat, but they hoped each time they made their trip here to town that they would never have to do so. It was the year 1787, and tribal folk were given the harshest treatment if they were found to be any sort of social threat to the townsfolk of Port-of-Spain. Such was life. Both Sabro and Shalumi were undaunted by that fact, though, and went about their business calmly before securing everything to their cart and heading back on the Orinico route that led south from the town to the banks of the Rio Claro where they would travel east into forest. Once out of town, Sabro spoke to Shalumi in their tribal tongue, his voice deep and resonant.
By Ruben R Sierra5 years ago in Humans
A Love Unexpected
“Remember that guy that you set me up with?” I say to my best friend, Aida, through gritted teeth. I do my best to look happy as I keep the fake smile plastered on my face, looking as if I’m auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. The gentle ambiance that floats in the background serves as my entertainment for the moment, considering my blind date isn’t here yet.
By Faith Troyer5 years ago in Humans
Distractions
Distractions, you can see which ones weren’t, but most were. Get a “good job” omg how many DECADES did we waste on THAT distraction. Chasing every red herring offered, “well if you only had an education”. Chase that! It works, there’s evidence, success even! You could be one of those! But instead you end up with one of the ones with piles of debt and barely scraping by week to week. “Well, you didn’t work hard enough obviously, or maybe you picked the wrong major” of course, the blame must be laid at your feet, it couldn’t be a system built around the myth of advantage, to keep everyone always chasing it. And examples?! We can point to plenty, you just did it wrong, of course you did it wrong. “Pay it off then” Scoffing internally, recognizing the futility of that, so many distractions.
By Willow Phoenix5 years ago in Humans
Moon Magic Or Not
Moon Magic Or Not: Let's Dance John W. Gilmore “This beach is too crowded, Rodrigo.” “This is prime time. No wonder. You should come here when the tourist season is over, Man.” I just frowned. “You're here too much anyway, Paul. You need to get a job or something.”
By Om Prakash John Gilmore5 years ago in Humans
The Meet Cute
Despite her better judgment, Cecilia entered the ferry galley and ordered a glass of wine. She looked over the meager selection and pointed to the bottle. “I’ll take a class of that, merLOT”. The cafe worker narrowly avoided rolling her eyes and corrected, “One glass of merLO coming right up”.
By Whitney Meissner5 years ago in Humans
Oh my God
I sit and listen with an actresses smile feigning interest. My stomach begins to growl . But he has planned the next thirty minutes, and food is nowhere in his schedule. And when I say it is time to get going, I then get a lecture. Something about how now that I am retired I do not need to rush . I did not want to spend twenty dollars on a lunch when I had food at home. I did not see him offering to treat me, to a meal. This date was planned to stroke his ego not mine. Maybe I should have given him a lecture. I just left as soon as we had gone on the walk he had planned. I wonder what I would have told him. What is a woman's job? Should I have defined it for him? It definitely is not a women's job to inflate a man's ego. Especially at the detriment of her own. but I knew telling him how I felt would not have lead to a dream date. It would have provoked another lesson. About what, I am not sure.
By Antoinette L Brey5 years ago in Humans
