friendship
C.S Lewis got it right: friendship is born when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
Break the Ice: Smart & Simple Ways to Start Conversations with Guys Anywhere
Starting a chat with a guy's ability is assumed daunting, but it isn't accepted to be. Whether you're eyeing addition at a coffee shop, an aide you've been absent to perceive better, or an absorbing contour on a dating app, the appropriate access can accomplish all the difference. This adviser is arranged with applied tips to advise you to breach the ice and engage in allusive conversations after the butterflies.
By Milan Milic2 years ago in Humans
A High School Love Letter
In the small, nondescript town of Everwood, high school halls echoed with the footsteps of a thousand teenagers navigating the labyrinth of adolescence. It was in these hallways that Ethan Jacobs found himself entangled in a story far more intricate and intense than the algebra equations or history dates that dominated his days. Ethan, a seventeen-year-old with an understated charm, was a classic blend of introversion and quiet ambition. His world was predictable—until her.
By Eladeo Mallett2 years ago in Humans
A Big Smile
It was my first time at the Farmers Market in the town I lived in. My wife usually goes but she sent me there because she was getting the house ready as our daughter was coming to visit us with her family. My wife had sent me on a mission to buy certain items. One was Kettle Corn. It was hot outside, the line was long, and I was tired. I decided to wait in the long line because wife said she’d kill me if I didn’t get some. Our grandchildren are spending the night tonight, so it would be a delightful treat as we watch the movies.
By Donna Nelson2 years ago in Humans
Navya Naveli Nanda's Achievement: A Mirror to Society's Gender Bias
Navya Naveli Nanda's Achievement: A Mirror to Society's Gender Bias Prejudice and discrimination based on gender persist because gender stereotypes are reinforced through a variety of channels, such as the media, socialization, education, and leisure activities. In addition to highlighting the pervasive prejudices that society still harbours against women, this article criticizes how modern society readily criticizes women who hold comparable success and power but ignore the accomplishments of powerful men. It focuses on Navya Nanda's experiences with online criticism regarding her achievements because of gender bias and examines different aspects of gender stereotyping and its effects on women's career advancement.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Humans
The Road Trip Adventure
Introduction Four best friends Tom, Liam, Alex, and Ben had been planning their road trip for months. They had been friends since childhood, and this trip was meant to be a celebration of their enduring friendship. They packed their car with snacks, music, and camping gear, ready for a weekend of adventure in the mountains. Excited and full of energy, they set off early one morning, with the sun just beginning to rise. The Journey Begins The road trip started perfectly. The friends sang along to their favourite songs, reminisced about old times, and joked about who would win the upcoming hiking challenge they had planned. The car hummed along the winding roads as they climbed higher into the mountains, the landscape becoming more breathtaking with each mile. As they reached a remote stretch of road, the skies began to darken, and a heavy storm rolled in. Rain pounded against the windshield, and the once smooth road turned slick and treacherous. Despite the worsening conditions, the friends remained in high spirits, confident that they could handle whatever came their way. The Unexpected Trouble Suddenly, the car sputtered and came to a halt. The engine had died, and they were stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no phone signal and no other cars in sight. The storm raged on around them, and the realization that they were stuck in a remote area began to sink in Tom, the practical one, suggested they wait for the storm to pass before deciding on their next move. Liam, always the optimist, believed they would find a way out soon enough. Alex, the tech-savvy friend, tried to tinker with the engine but had no luck. Ben, the adventurous spirit, suggested they explore the area to see if they could find help. The Decision
By Jagadeeswaran Selvaraj2 years ago in Humans
Relationships Define us in his World!
Our course of events is shaped by our friends, family, and colleagues; relationships define us in this world. Among these interactions, friendships usually have a particular place since they provide a haven where we might relax, have fun, and get understanding. While this is a profound, sometimes disturbing truth that many of us finally face, the same individuals we depend most on—our close friends—may also turn into our deadliest foes.
By Neli Ivanova2 years ago in Humans
The Golden Sunset: Emily and Max's Last Summer
There once was a sixteen-year-old girl named Emily who lived in the quiet suburb, where trees spoke stories to wind and sun never did leave. And her golden retriever Max. They met defenses down amidst Emily’s recovery from cancer in a fire that tempered their bond to its most unbreakable form: friendship.
By Young Dreamer2 years ago in Humans
Unspoken Love and Broken Connections: A Tale of Twin Flames
Lately, L has been on my mind. A lot! I’ve never been able to let the connection go despite us going our separate ways. I’m not someone who spends a lot of time in the past ruminating on things that didn’t pan out. If anything I spend most of my time fantasizing about the future.
By Vanessa Brown2 years ago in Humans
A Moment of Crisis at RYLA
The week-long leadership training organized by the Rotary Youth Leadership Academy (RYLA) was supposed to be one of the most exciting experiences of my life. I was 19 years old, eager to learn, and thrilled to be surrounded by like-minded young leaders from all over the country. We were 18 girls sharing a large hall, each with our own stories and dreams. Despite the packed schedule, we quickly bonded, our late-night talks often veering from leadership strategies to our personal hopes and fears. The days were intense, filled with workshops, group activities, and endless discussions about leadership. By the time we returned to our hall each evening, we were exhausted but energized by the day's lessons. It was on one of those nights, after a particularly challenging session, that everything changed. We had just settled into our beds, the room buzzing with low chatter as we recapped the day's events. I was lying on my bunk, halfway through a conversation with the girl next to me when I noticed something strange. One of the girls, Kamsi, who had been fairly quiet throughout the day, seemed to be struggling. She was sitting upright on her bed, clutching her chest, her breathing rapid and shallow. At first, I thought she was just tired or maybe stressed out. The program was demanding, after all. But as I watched her, I realized something was very wrong. Kamsi's breaths were becoming more labored, and her eyes were wide with fear. The chatter in the room slowly died down as more of the girls noticed her distress. My heart began to race, a cold knot of fear forming in my stomach. I had never seen an asthmatic attack before, but I knew instinctively that this was what was happening. My mind flashed to the stories I had heard about asthma—how quickly it could escalate, how dangerous it could be if not treated immediately. The realization hit me like a wave, and for a moment, I was frozen in place, unsure of what to do. "Kamsi, where's your inhaler?" one of the girls asked urgently, her voice cutting through the rising panic in the room. Kamsi pointed weakly toward her bag at the foot of her bed, but she was struggling too much to speak. My body moved before my mind could catch up, and I found myself scrambling to her bag, desperately searching for the inhaler. My hands trembled as I rifled through her belongings, pulling out clothes, notebooks, anything that got in my way. It felt like time was moving in slow motion, the seconds stretching out into an eternity as I searched. Finally, my fingers closed around the small, life-saving device. I grabbed it and rushed back to Kamsi, who was now gasping for air, her face pale and her lips tinged with blue. The room was deathly silent, all eyes on her as I handed her the inhaler. She took it with shaking hands, bringing it to her mouth with visible effort. We all watched, holding our breaths, as she managed to take a few puffs. The effect was not immediate, and for a terrifying moment, I feared it hadn't worked. But then, slowly, her breathing began to even out. The color started returning to her face, and the wild fear in her eyes gradually faded. Relief washed over me like a tidal wave, and I realized I had been holding my breath the entire time. As Kamsi's breathing stabilized, the tension in the room eased. Some of the girls sat down on their beds, their expressions a mix of shock and relief. I felt a strange combination of exhaustion and alertness, my body still buzzing with adrenaline even as my mind began to process what had just happened. "Thank you," Kamsi whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible but filled with gratitude. I nodded, still too shaken to respond verbally. The reality of how close we had come to a much worse situation was starting to sink in, and it left me feeling emotionally drained. That night, we gathered around Kamsi's bed, each of us trying to offer comfort in our own way. We didn't talk much; the experience had left us all a little shell-shocked. But in the silence, there was a shared understanding—a recognition of how vulnerable we all were, and how important it was to look out for each other. In the days that followed, we made sure to keep a close eye on Kamsi. We learned where her inhaler was kept, and we even talked through what to do in case of another attack. It was a sobering experience, one that reminded us that leadership isn't just about taking charge in a meeting or giving a speech—it's about being there for each other, especially in moments of crisis. The rest of the week passed without incident, but the memory of that night stayed with me. I couldn't shake the image of Kamsi struggling to breathe, or the helplessness I had felt in those first few moments. It was a lesson in the unpredictability of life and the importance of being prepared, not just for ourselves but for those around us.
By Morufat Olopade 2 years ago in Humans
