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.
The Day I Learned Patience From a Stranger. AI-Generated.
It was one of those mornings when nothing seemed to go right. My alarm hadn’t rung on time, the traffic was worse than usual, and my phone was buzzing nonstop with emails and reminders. By the time I arrived at the government office I had to visit, my stress levels were through the roof.
By Asima Bibiabout a year ago in Humans
Shut Down Corruption, Not Social Media: The Fire Gen Z Lit in Nepal
There’s a powerful tension in that moment of calm before the roar begins. Nepal’s Gen Z rarely made headlines, quietly living with day to day corruption, limited opportunities, and an uneven justice system.
By Saba Writesabout a year ago in Humans
Do You Feel Safe?
Our world is troubled. Now that’s an understatement. Our world is full of despair from war zones and conflicts. People who are forced to leave their homes to become refugees because they cannot stay. Innocents are put in prisons because they were born in the “wrong countries,” or for their skin color. Killer viruses and famine still has their grip in some places. There are shootings happening where innocent lives are lost.
By Elizabeth Woodsabout a year ago in Humans
The Day I Let Silence Speak for Me
I've been carrying around this weight for years, yet it would never come to anyone who knows me. To them, I seem to have built a good life — a good job, nice smiles, an apartment full of plants that I sometimes forget to water. It all appears to be in its place on the outside. But order is a dream. Inside, I coexist with one moment of chaos. A moment when I should have spoken and didn't. A moment that echoed in my head so often, it's as if my silence is louder than all words I could have said.This is my transgression: I ruined the good that came to me by letting silence speak for me.
By Leyvel Writesabout a year ago in Humans
We Are Not the Same as We Were, Are We?
There was a time—not too long ago—when life glowed with a different kind of warmth. Families gathered around dinner tables, not just to eat but to share stories, laughter, and even the quiet comfort of being together. Friends spent long afternoons in gossip, playful arguments, and silly mistakes that became unforgettable memories. Children filled the streets and fields, playing games until the sun dipped below the horizon. Villages were alive with the music of conversations, celebrations, and the simple joy of belonging.
By Life Hopesabout a year ago in Humans
Love Beyond Words: Jessica and the Dolphin’s Ocean Bond
The ocean has always been a place of mystery—a world beneath waves where life moves to rhythms we cannot fully understand. Yet sometimes, within that expanse of blue, bonds are born that defy both distance and species. This is the story of Jessica and the dolphin, captured in a single timeless moment, where love transcends language and flows like water itself.
By Fazal wahid about a year ago in Humans
3 Life Lessons I Learned Growing Up in Africa. AI-Generated.
Childhood has a way of shaping us in ways we only understand much later in life. The games we played, the food we shared, the laughter, and even the hardships they all left behind invisible lessons that continue to guide us as adults.
By David Kadiriabout a year ago in Humans
🌙 Story The Light of the Lantern
🌙 The Light of the Lantern A tale of love, patience, and prayer It was a dark winter night. The sky was covered with thick, restless clouds, hiding the moon and the stars. Snowflakes kept falling, carried by the cold wind that pierced through the silence of the village. On the edge of the village stood a small, humble house. Outside its door, an old lantern glowed faintly, its light trembling but never going out.
By New stAr writer about a year ago in Humans
The Beautiful Imperfection of Being Human
M Mehran If you strip away the noise of modern life—the glowing screens, the endless deadlines, the rush of traffic—you’re left with something raw and unpolished: us. Humans. Imperfect, unpredictable, vulnerable, and yet extraordinary. I didn’t always see it that way. For years, I thought being human meant constantly chasing perfection, hiding flaws, and living like life was some test I had to ace. But a series of moments—small, ordinary moments—taught me that being human is less about achieving and more about experiencing. The Stranger on the Train It started on a crowded train ride home. I was exhausted, scrolling through my phone, when I noticed an older man across from me. His coat was frayed at the edges, his hands trembling slightly as he held a paperback book. Every few pages, he would glance up, make eye contact with strangers, and smile. Not the forced, polite kind of smile, but one filled with warmth. People around him responded almost instinctively: a tired mother softened, a businessman lowered his phone, a teenager stopped frowning at the world. In that cramped metal box, surrounded by strangers, I realized something simple but powerful: humans crave connection. Even in silence, even in exhaustion, we reach for one another. The Beauty of Flaws Later that year, a close friend confessed something that changed the way I thought about humanity. She said, “I spent so much of my life pretending to be okay, until I realized that pretending was lonelier than the pain itself.” That struck me. How often do we, as humans, put on masks to look strong? We iron out our voices, tidy up our emotions, polish our stories. But the truth is, our flaws are the bridges that connect us. When someone admits fear, we say, me too. When someone shares grief, we hold their hand. When someone shows us their scars, we recognize our own. Being human isn’t about hiding the cracks. It’s about showing them and discovering we’re not broken—we’re just real. The Kindness of Strangers One rainy afternoon, my car broke down on a quiet street. Frustrated and cold, I stood there trying to flag down help. Cars passed by until finally, a woman in a small blue hatchback pulled over. She didn’t ask for anything, didn’t hesitate. She simply grabbed an umbrella from her backseat and stood with me until help arrived. She never even told me her name. That moment reminded me that being human isn’t always about grand gestures. It’s often about small acts of kindness that ripple far beyond what we can see. A smile, a held door, an umbrella shared on a rainy day—these are the threads that quietly weave humanity together. The Storm and the Sunrise But of course, being human also means facing storms. I remember the night my grandfather passed away. Grief came like a tidal wave, pulling me under. For days, everything felt gray and meaningless. And yet, slowly, life whispered back. A friend dropped off food without asking. My dog rested her head on my lap. The sun rose, stubbornly, each morning. That’s when I realized: humans are resilient not because we avoid pain, but because we learn to carry it. We break, but we also mend. And sometimes, we emerge softer, kinder, and more aware of how precious every sunrise is. Our Search for Meaning There’s another thread that defines us: our endless search for meaning. Humans build cities, paint murals, write poems, and explore galaxies not just to survive, but to understand. We want to know why we’re here, what love means, whether our stories matter. Maybe that’s why we tell each other stories at all. Every book, every song, every whispered confession is an attempt to say, I was here. I felt this. Do you feel it too? And when someone nods, when someone says yes, suddenly the vast mystery of life feels a little less lonely. Imperfect, Yet Enough One evening, sitting by the window with a cup of tea, I thought about all these moments—the man on the train, my friend’s confession, the stranger with the umbrella, the ache of loss, the joy of stories. I realized that humanity is not a polished sculpture. It’s more like a quilt: messy, stitched together from scraps of laughter, pain, mistakes, and kindness. And that’s the beauty of it. We are not perfect beings. We are enough, simply by existing, by loving, by trying. Why Humans Matter In a world that often values speed, efficiency, and flawlessness, it’s easy to forget the essence of being human. It’s not about how much we earn, how flawless we look, or how many goals we check off a list. It’s about how deeply we love, how bravely we endure, and how openly we share this journey with one another. So when I think about what it means to be human, I think of this: We smile at strangers. We cry when we lose someone. We laugh until our stomachs hurt. We stumble, fail, and then get up again. We carry memories, regrets, and dreams in equal measure. And through it all, we keep reaching out for connection. That’s the story of humanity: flawed, fragile, and yet endlessly full of hope. A Final Thought Someday, when I’m old and gray, I don’t think I’ll remember the deadlines or the polished masks. I’ll remember the people. The train rides, the confessions, the kindness, the grief, the laughter. Because being human isn’t about living perfectly. It’s about living fully. And that, I think, is the most extraordinary thing about us.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a year ago in Humans
Conversations with My Future Self
Conversations with My Future Self Journal Entry – September 7, 2025 Dear Future Me, I don’t know why I decided to start writing to you today. Maybe it’s the quiet hum of my apartment, the way the sunlight cuts across the floor just right, or maybe it’s that gnawing feeling that I’m already forgetting things I shouldn’t. You’re ten years ahead of me now—ten years with wisdom I don’t yet have, mistakes I haven’t yet made, victories I haven’t yet celebrated. I wonder, do you remember me? Do you even still care about this version of yourself—the one who’s still learning, fumbling, trying so hard not to get lost?
By ALEX_BLACKabout a year ago in Humans
