humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Gaslighting and Other Abusive, Toxic, Negative Behaviours
We have all read the articles describing the harmful displays of these behaviours in relationships, with the damage they inevitably cause.
Dorn SimonPublished 7 years ago in HumansNo Excuses; No Apologies
I was on Facebook today and I had an epiphany. One that broke my heart a little, but also changed my mind and the way I speak on certain things.
Abigail Adams -The Mad Cow Mob BossPublished 7 years ago in HumansPsychotic
I sat in my car with everything I owned packed up in the back seat. Tears were running down my face and my sobs would not stop. I was at that low point where all I could think about was all the wrong I've done in my life; I started filling my head with these negative thoughts about myself, about my life, and about every person in my life who I swear thinks nothing good of me. I'm sure it was the equivalent of the devil whispering in my ear.
Madison LoucksPublished 7 years ago in HumansGratitude
I was on social media the other day and came across a really interesting quote by Anne Frank. The quote reads, “Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones, because the regret is stronger than gratitude." This quote really got me thinking, my family and I lost both of our grandfathers a few years back and my parents always say that they would do anything just to have one more moment with their dads, they would do anything just to see them smile one last time. Many people likely have that same thought, but why? Why do so many people express that feeling? Thinking about how people often say or think that I began to wonder, Is their regret stronger than their gratitude? What can I do to make sure my regret won’t be stronger than my gratitude? What can we all do to make sure our regret won’t be stronger than our gratitude?
Jordyn GoolsbyPublished 7 years ago in HumansThe Millennial Mold
The Millennial stereotype is like every other stereotype a biracial teen like myself has to face. It's a misunderstanding — a label that was smacked on my forehead like a sticker on a steak. I have a flavor, size, marbling limit, and price that I am supposed to be worth — the maximum and minimum that which my abilities will be bought and sold for.
Lavon SwygertPublished 7 years ago in HumansGod's Lonely Man
It's scary to be alive. In the most sincere sense; being alive is a commanding struggle. A struggle of days, hours, minutes, seconds...etc. With that complexity comes a mixed bag of the unknown. We want to know. We seek answers, try in vain to fulfill our desires (no matter how inane or asinine), attempt to live among each other in perpetual harmony. And even the slightest of interactions with other humans can be astronomical; albeit invitingly organic.
A.R. MarquezPublished 7 years ago in HumansPower of Words
There are two sides to every argument. The debate on the power words hold is a timeless one. Also one that people will feel strongly on either way, but they often don’t realize it. As humans we use words to express ourselves, share our thoughts and emotions. Connections are built and taken apart by words. In forming relationships with the people in our lives, we use words as a sort of tool to connect.
When Love Is Not Enough
I am aware that I tend towards a more complicated view of life. Simplicity, brevity, certainty: these are beyond me. They have been beyond me for as long as I can remember.
Tim MatthewsPublished 7 years ago in HumansUnhealthy Thing
I think I’ve always been inclined to desire unhealthy things. I don’t know why. I certainly didn’t have a difficult childhood, nor would I consider myself a victim of abuse or neglect. I think technically I come from a broken home, but that’s only because of a minorly messy divorce and my own need to feel like an outcast. Other than the occasional wrist grab and the one time my mother spanked me as an infant, I’ve never been in any situation that could be evaluated as threatening. I would describe my life as mild. Nothing special, nothing bad, just mild. Yet, I still feel the hopeless pull to interact, seek, and fall in love with the most unhealthy of situations.
Wednesday LevernPublished 7 years ago in HumansThe Widow's Mind
She stood at the top of her house, the sea breeze rustling through her fine brown hair. Upon the sun’s brief returns, there was a tint of yellow and red, hitting her tight bun so, it created a halo above her head. Under her cloak, she wore the traditional widow’s black, a stern expression on her face. Daffodil Unistentasious watched the goings-on of the children beneath, her green-blue eyes pooling water.
Faith YoungPublished 7 years ago in HumansI Can't Fix You
Relinquishing all hope that I can change you: that is difficult for me. I hope so much that one day you wake up and are you again. I love you, but the addict in you makes it so hard. Should love be this much work? Should a marriage be filled with this much resentment? The truth is, I don't know. The obvious answer would appear to be no, but is it different with an addict? It takes every bit of yourself not to leave, even when you feel you should. The question I can't get the answer to is, when should I give up?
Me, to Be or Not to Be?
I've been the same person my entire life. I know, it sounds ridiculous. Right now you're thinking, "Well, isn't everybody"? To answer your question, no. People around me have gone through more personality changes than they have clothes. (Okay, that might be a stretch but you get it.) I've never been that way, not until recently. My memories started at the age of 7, when I woke up in a tiny 1 bedroom apartment knowing exactly who I was. I remember that day and moment as if it just happened. What did I feel exactly? To put it simply, it was a sense of belonging. Now I'm 23 and I can't say I know who this person I embody really is. Everyone loves to typecast me though, because what better way to utilize their time than to try and analyze me? I've been referred to as the simple girl, the mature one, the strong personality alpha female, the conservative one, and my favorite, the weirdo. I never cared for these titles because I knew the truth. I wasn't ever just one of those things, I was all of them. But now, in what seems like such a broken world where my sense of belonging has withered away with the dreams and aspirations of those who struggle to get by, the girl who looks back at me from the mirror is unfamiliar. Studying my exterior and concealing my interior, the only reflections I see are those of a lost soul. I'm struggling but no one sees it, and I'm afraid no one cares for it.
Persia LeePublished 7 years ago in Humans