Life
rooftop thinking
Atop my roof, I can see the world from a bird’s eye view. I can see the colors of all the cars, hear the blaring sirens, feel the wind in my hair. I can think my thoughts all to myself. I can contort my face into any expression. I can jump and smile and skip and scream. I can dance and sing and swing around the chimney. I can cry with my head in my hands. I can cackle like a supervillain, or hold my head high and grin like a superhero.
By angela hepworthabout a year ago in Writers
Autologous vs Allogeneic Stem Cell Transplant: What Most People Don’t Realize Until It’s Time to Choose. AI-Generated.
We hear these terms tossed around in medical circles, especially in regenerative therapies and transplants. But when it’s your body or someone you love, suddenly it’s not just medical jargon, it’s a real-life decision.
By Shamsul Anam Emonabout a year ago in Writers
Top Five Priorities
I was flipping through some books I have in my collection and this book appeared — F*CK I’M IN MY TWENTIES, A GUIDED JOURNAL — I thought I may give this entry a try, using it as a prompt. I remembered that I am temporarily out of prompts. So here it is…
By Denise E Lindquistabout a year ago in Writers
Why I Stopped Reading Self-Help Books—And Started Living My Questions Instead
For years, I devoured self-help books like they were sacred texts. My shelves bowed under the weight of titles promising confidence, productivity, inner peace, emotional mastery, purpose, and healing. I was constantly underlining passages, scribbling mantras in margins, and chasing that next big “aha” moment that would finally make me feel whole.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Writers
Growing Up, or Something Resembling It. Content Warning.
The late-night air of a Seattle summer filled my lungs in between drags of a cigarette, as airplanes flew overhead and the night sky was burdened by city lights. We sat on the swings of an empty schoolyard gently lulling to and fro, staring at each other through quick glances in between quiet conversation. We sat like this for hours, learning the complexities of each other through intimate conversations and telling stories about our childhood, talking about all of the things that make meeting new people when you're twenty years old exciting.
By Lilah Looperabout a year ago in Writers
