satire
Relationship satire can be cathartic; when love hurts too much, just laugh.
The Owl, The Sheep, and The Lion's Roar
The barn owl looked down from the tree. He looked down on the rest of the animals, both literally and figuratively. He thought to himself, “there are too many of these dumb animals, they do not know what I know. I know the realities of this Universe, all they know is what is directly in front of them. And yet, I am included as their equal. I am seen as just like them, an oblivious animal. I am too wise for this, I have too much knowledge to deject myself to such a lowly class. I must come up with a plan, a plan to exert control over these lowly animals, so that I must never work for anything”
Denise HeislerPublished 3 years ago in HumansExodus
For as long as I can remember and with as much about the world as I've managed to learn during my short time here. I've always had this underlying dream of "taking my toys and going home".
Farren BlackwellPublished 3 years ago in HumansNew Year, New Me
Ah, the year. The year itself is such an odd unit of measurement. A year itself lacks no significance, and yet at the end of one we all feel the need to shed our former selves and morph into something new, preferable, less loathsome than we were in the past. I do not care for that. I no longer wish to earn the envy of my peers or climb the ranks of my society.
Ellen CampbellPublished 3 years ago in HumansFood and Marriage
1. Love & Hair There is a woman who loves her husband very much. Every morning she prepares him a bountiful fruit salad with all of his favorites; strawberries, bananas, blueberries, green apples, and raspberries chopped up into tiny pieces. She tops it with almond yogurt, pecans, sliced almonds, walnuts, and chia seeds. She steeps his turmeric tea and gently stirs it. Before putting his fruit salad before of him, she plucks one hair from her head and strategically places it inside so that he won’t know it's there. You see this woman loves her husband so much that she wants him to carry a piece of her inside of him as he goes about his day. They laugh and chat over breakfast as usual and make love before they go to work.
Jessica StappPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Heart of Drunkness
Quite a few years back, my mother married a guy in Prince George, We’ll call him Ray. You have met Ray many times. He is the older guy, probably a mechanic or a truck driver, probably drunk when you meet him but so comfortable that way that you might not notice at first.
H. Robert MacPublished 3 years ago in HumansI Am The Greatest Word of All Times
I’m not surprised I’m back in the news. I’m the champ. I am N*gger. I am the greatest word of all times. I stay in the news. People can’t stop saying me. I’ve been crushing it since 1574. That’s 445 years of mad usage. I am the greatest. I am so great of a word that even after I was turned into a derogatory slur and used to attack the losers of The United States’ game of White Supremacy, I continued to get mad usage.
Seth K. ThomasPublished 3 years ago in Humanspost future apocalypse gift guide
How do we shop gifts for our children and our loved ones within the chaos of this last year coming to it's inevitable close? We are a consumerist society here, and the the best flash with the most cash rules the media roost, the rest of us blankly staring at the screen being imaginary Kardashian, eating our dollar store chips and wearing our good sweatpants (the ones without avacado dip stains in the crotch area, in case you're wondering).
susan marie loehePublished 3 years ago in HumansChurch Folk Somethin' Else
THE DRAMATIS PERSONAE DEBORAH GOLDEN, Minister-elect JAMES WRIGHT, Pastor MARY MARTHA WRIGHT, Pastor's Wife and First Lady
Shoshannah LorettaPublished 4 years ago in HumansThe Party Game
A party in a highrise apartment was suddenly interrupted when a ravishingly beautiful woman in her early thirties fumbled in her purse , screamed and announced that her Gold cigarette case was missing.
Partho ChoudhuryPublished 4 years ago in HumansWhy I want to be a Cult Leader
Nearly two thousand five hundred years ago men and woman would gather under the stoa of ancient Greece to learn first hand the lessons of the greatest thinkers of their time, maybe the greatest thinkers of all time. A place where discussion was paramount, learning was inevitable and being wrong a certainty. Sitting there, dressed in a robe or toga of some kind, alongside your fellow tribe, you wouldn’t have noticed, you had just joined a cult. As these leaders in thought went about their teachings, they were indoctrinating you into a new way of life, a new way of believing.
Robert WebbPublished 4 years ago in HumansDear Self,
Writing. The only way to write is to do it, yet you fall short on that end of the stick. I’ve noticed you haven’t been as passionate about the writing you’ve been forcing yourself to put together. You force feed writing prompts instead of taking your time to knead the dough that is your brain. I can tell you haven’t given much thought or at least given yourself the chance to brainstorm more than twice in the same week. Your eyes go blank as your intense stare treads off into the empty space in front of you. Sometimes if I catch you in a moment of silence, I can hear your breathing slow as you swipe through the internal voices bombarding your brain; you once compared your thoughts to blind Tinder dates that have absolutely no intention of starting the night off right.
Days Of The Week
Monday If Monday were a person it would be the worst person. It would be that one alcoholic drink that always reminds you of the one night you wish had never happened. It’s that one customer who always puts a downer on your entire day and then tells you they are never coming back only to be there the same time the next day.
collette_23Published 4 years ago in Humans