Life
What is Depression?
At its core, depression is a mood disorder characterized by persistent feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and a lack of interest in activities once considered enjoyable. These feelings are more than just passing moods; they last for weeks, months, or even years and significantly interfere with a person’s daily life. The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that over 264 million people worldwide suffer from depression.Causes of Depression
By Mehedi Hasan 2 years ago in Writers
De-digitization and Restoration of a Healthy Human and Social Life: Reclaiming Authentic Living in a Digital Wor
In an era where screens dominate our daily lives and digital interactions often overshadow face-to-face connections, De-digitization and Restoration of a Healthy Human and Social Life emerges as a timely and transformative guide. This groundbreaking book challenges readers to pause, reflect, and take actionable steps toward reclaiming the essence of human connection, emotional well-being, and mindful living in an increasingly virtual world.
By Abdelhadi elbakkali2 years ago in Writers
How to Become a Traveler
Have you ever envisioned of investigating distinctive places, encountering assorted societies, and making extraordinary recollections? Getting to be a traveler isn't around booking flights; it's almost grasping a attitude of interest and enterprise. Whether you yearn to be a full-time traveler, a budget explorer, or a extravagance visitor, this direct will assist you get it how to begin your travel.
By Sujit Kumar2 years ago in Writers
Killing Another, Or Sacrifice Your Soul
First published by Mercury Press on medium.com “The Book of Questions”, by Gregory Stock, Ph.D — These are questions of a different sort — questions about you. They are about your values, your beliefs, and your life; love, money, sex, integrity, generosity, pride, and death are all here. Here is an enjoyable way to find out more about yourself and others, and to confront ethical dilemmas in a concrete rather than an abstract form. To respond to these questions, you will need to examine and interpret your past, project yourself into hypothetical situations, face difficult dilemmas and make painful choices. These questions can be an avenue for individual growth, a tool for deepening relationships, a quick way to get to know a stranger, or merely a pleasant amusement.
By Denise E Lindquist2 years ago in Writers
White
There have been tiny moments in my life in which I have felt completely disoriented; when the world had transformed into this unrecognizable, uncategorizable roaming entity, hallow and stern, unmoved and still wavering. It happens that as I look into the faces of certain white people, I am overcome with this very feeling. I understand that I have met these people; people like these people before, many times, and in too many instances to even consider the afterthought of unfamiliarity associated with my senses. It happens, however, that I have no clue how these people are. I do not understand their culture. Their ways of speaking. The intricacies in their mannerisms, and I do not mean this in the way you can never really understand anybody at the depths to which your natural philosophical tendencies may sink you, I mean this in the way that in your attempt to understand these people, you will inevitably reach an end. A gap showcasing the other side of understanding that you may not have access to. I feel this when I talk to or work around white people. I wonder if this is because I have never had any real white friends. I have never even dated a white person. Maybe I have never allowed myself to become familiar with anybody who didn’t to a degree resemble me. Or perhaps the reason I never have was precisely because I had felt such isolation from them. For me, the disorientation seems inevitable. Even in their physical features, the white seems more delicate. More polished, as if god had taken the time to bestow upon them the colors of the clouds, and the skies. We, on the other hand, we Chicanos. We laborers. We wet backs and illegals and undocumented, and non-English speaking we, ironically, get the color of the earth, and its essential markings cast all around us in our beautiful pigmentation. I speak to the clouds, and I ask them questions. Inside, I feel inferior, and I can recognize it. I don’t know if that is common. I do not know if the rest of the undocumented migrants like me, share these sentiments. If they can look at white people and feel absolutely nothing. Or god, if they might feel equality. I remember an instance, in which I was working at a bar and a white man had sat down and was trying to start a conversation with me. I told my coworker, who looked much more ‘Mexican’ than me, that I felt intimidated. I remember him asking me, “Why? Cuz he’s white?” I said, “Nah no it’s not that.” I lied. It was completely because he was white, and had that air about him. That “I’m better than you air.” That, “I don’t need to know you to know what’s best for you” feel about him. He was pompous. He turned about to be a huge Trump supporter and a proud racist so I was right about him, but I often think back to the moment when my coworker asked why I felt intimidated. I almost wish I would not have lied, just to hear what he’d say. What advice he’d be able to give me, or what insight he could reveal, about the weakness of my character, and the internalized racism of my being. Most likely, he would have just told me that the white man was not any better than me. “He shits like you shit.” It’s true. However, I wonder how you get there. How you can look past all of their slights. How you can see past the fact that he was tall, handsome and the same skin color as a lot of the employers I’ve gotten rejected by. He probably ate the same meals that they ate, not the rice and beans and tortillas my mom would make me. He would have the same slang, that he learned from his father, which learned slang from his grandfather, both of which cultivated their way of speaking from the time spent evolving and growing up in this country. He would remind my employers of their fathers, perhaps their kids, perhaps themselves. They would feel a natural understanding of their similarities and be able to understand things about them and their words could never communicate. And that person never had to worry about a family member getting deported. He never had to worry about being laid off because they checked his ssn and turns out it was fake. He never had to think about who he was, reject parts of his culture, and accept others. He was never told the problems in his home emerging for financial reasons were because his people were not like the rest of the people. In many ways, he always knew he was the rest.
By E. Plancarte2 years ago in Writers
10 Best Men's Haircut For Thin Hair: Barber-Approved Choices
Men dealing with thinning hair often find themselves searching for hairstyles for men with thinning hair that can restore their confidence. This comprehensive guide presents ten professionally recommended haircuts for guys with thin hair that can help create the appearance of fuller, thicker hair.
By Nora Johnson2 years ago in Writers
Let's talk
What is the true tragedy of being human? Is it the fact that no matter what we go through we are still constantly facing a battle amongst ourselves? Or that lines that become blurred should not be and those that are defined should not be? I don’t know the answers to these at all. There is no reason and yet every reason on why things happen. Believe what you will, and take what you know, do your research for yourself collecting all the facts and combine that to find the truth. Whether you're a junkie that society says won’t be anything more, or the one with the perfect family. There are many things that make us who we are but the one thing that defines us is our own personal choices. Once you realize that the ones you made in your past can ultimately influence your future a bit, it doesn't mean that it’s a constant. Things change. Time, people, weather, everything. After seven years you have a new body with new cells. So strange isn’t it? Something that amazing can happen and yet we don’t even realize what is happening. But yet there is always one constant in our lives. We all have that one person that means the most to us. Sometimes we never truly want to admit but no matter what happens it will always be them. Out of all the change that surrounds us, we all have one person that we truly love. Sometimes we find it and sometimes we don’t. And sometimes, we lose it. Isn’t that odd? We all have that one person that we love but can lose, no matter what happens. When you have that one person you can’t lose, everything else doesn’t seem as big anymore. For me that is my daughter. I have been around a few times, and done my share of traveling and I have found that my peace lies in the little moments of our seemingly boring days, and our adventures. I have always had a sort of peace within myself that I came from my own trauma growing up. So I learned at a young age to accept everything as it was, and allow things to come and go. But once that seven pounds, fourteen ounces little girl came out, my world was forever changed. I know this is probably the laments of an over proud father, but nonetheless she is everything to me. I have been watching her grow, stumble, fall and get back up again. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I was always the one that sort of went with the flow, with that devil may care attitude in life and I found myself although with some interesting company. I made quite a few people who I thought were my friends and some of them stayed for life. I still have no answers to the questions at the beginning and probably never will. But I do know that with purpose you find answers. It is up to each individual to find their own. But as this is being written I ponder on the country that my daughter is growing up in and how I as a father can do what I can to change it. Our country has been divided for far longer than most care to admit, really since shortly after we came to be in my own personal opinion. I am by no means what you would call a leader, nor do I associate myself with either side of our political fence. I agree with our first president in which he said the two party system would be our downfall. This is how I make my change for my daughter growing up, writing, sharing, and urging those to pay attention and call themselves to arms so to speak. I don’t mean go raiding the armories bunkering down with their guns and ammunition. What I mean is pick up your intellectual weapons. I by no means am dismissing the use of normalized weaponry, instead the war for our country needs to be fought on an intellectual level. There are far too many people in power out there that are abusing it, overshadowing those that are trying to usher in a new way of thinking. I have been watching closely as of late to politics and I am saddened to say that I am seeing what feels like a rise of Nazi germany. To the many of those out there who are going to be ready to argue with me, I will partake in civil conversation with you. World War 2 has always been one of my many interests. I have had somewhat of a curious
By Will Besaw2 years ago in Writers
"The Hidden Key"
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a feeling of being watched pressing down on her. She had been followed, but by whom? And why? She was no closer to answers, and yet, she could feel the pieces of the puzzle falling into place, just out of reach.
By Md Junayed2 years ago in Writers
Always Late, Sometimes Late, Never Late. Top Story - February 2025.
Write Down the Bones Deck to Free the Writer Within — This is my wish for you: that you take these cards, grab the topic on one side and write, write, write. Then flip to the other side of the card and take note. I’ve always used the word topic instead of prompt. Prompt is the starting place, but topic indicates more the idea of plunging in and immersing. Natalie Goldberg
By Denise E Lindquist2 years ago in Writers
Change
It comes with utter dismay and disappointment that a man known to be so prejudiced against the existence and nature of the minorities in this country would win re-election partially because of the help of the Mexican-Americans spread across the country. More shocking is the fact that counties harboring large numbers of both legal and illegal Mexican migrants became red counties including my home county: Orange County. It sickens me to think that my own people don’t stand behind me. Of course, I am incredibly grateful for the ones that do. I understand how important it is to have allyship during these hard times, and I know how lucky I am to reside in California, a place to until now has been a safe haven and a relative place of luxury compared to the places in which people like me end up. I am not as afraid of what the future holds as I was when I was much younger, because I am seasoned illegal now.
By E. Plancarte2 years ago in Writers
