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!"
How a Narcissist Can Manipulate You
--- Photo Source: Oscar Keys on Unsplash --- The word narcissist is almost synonymous with the word 'manipulation.' There are many misinterpretations of narcissism, so it's essential to know the signs of narcissists and their overused tactics.
By That Psych Nerd4 years ago in Humans
Tom Saba
As a teenager, I would don my baseball uniform in anticipation of a game and begin my journey to the ballpark. It was always the same path for the 3-mile trek because superstition set in at an early age and superstition goes hand in hand with baseball and being a left-handed pitcher.
By roy Slezak4 years ago in Humans
How to Win Friends and Influence People summarized,
Mr Carnegie’s masterpiece, selling more than 30 million copies and one of the best-selling books of all time, is THE book you have to read to make your social life god-tier. However unfortunately, we neither have the time nor the effort to manually turn the 291 or so pages to enhance our reading abilities along with our lives. To supplement this, we have devised ways, such as audio-books on Audible or short summaries of the book, like this article. Welcome, I’m Rochan Kumar and I’m here to put all of the top notch advice that this book offers in under three minutes, or less. Sit back, grab a bite, and enjoy reading what’s to come.
By Rochan Kumar4 years ago in Humans
When Does a Friendship Between a Woman and a Man Transform Into A Love Story?
An eternal discussion that often comes to no clear conclusion: can there be true friendship between a man and a woman? And if there is, what are the chances that it will suddenly turn into something else - either a relationship or a night of sex?
By Thierry Rosario4 years ago in Humans
Thoughts after a debate
I was in a heated debate with a friend, and it seem to last for hours. I have known this guy for twenty plus years and it was like we never even met each other before. We could not agree on anything. It was almost like he was pulling my chain or something and after we're done, I couldn't stop thinking. So, I kept the argument going with myself. I'm not crazy but I couldn't leave it alone. I had to get it all out of me or I would be thinking about it for weeks, and I don't have time for that.
By Jessie Altman4 years ago in Humans
The Words I Never Got to Say
Dear Bob, It's such a simple name you have. Almost forgettable to some. Not even a whole name, really, now that I think about it and look back. I suppose once upon a time, you were a Robert to some, but to me, you will always be Bob, and I will never forget that name - so simple and plain and pure. Because of you, my dear, dear man, I will always think it my favorite name. I can't think of a "Bob" that I have not liked, but then again, I suppose I might be just a tad biased. Whenever I hear that name, I think of only one thing. I think of you, old friend, and of all the things you were to me. You were so much more than my Bible teacher and friend. You were a grandfather to me. A father, and yes. I'll say it again - a friend. You were the first positive male influence in my life. The only man I felt safe with, and the one man I knew I that could trust. I say these words now, but I'm not sure you would understand just how powerful those words are for me to say. I didn't know all of this, myself back then. I didn't know it all last week. You were a gift to me in so many ways, and I wish I had known how to say these things all those years ago. You spent time with me - helping me, teaching me, believing in me. You called me "a tryer," and I don't know if you meant for it to be some extraordinary moment in my life, but that is precisely what it was. Just as you were simple and safe but always insightful and full of wisdom for me, your words became so much more than just a brief and simple observation you once made of me. Those simple, unassuming words became like a mantra in my head. Like someone who places a sticky note on the mirror to encourage them to keep going on those dark and dreary days, I placed your words on my soul. They've pulled me up and pushed me forward when I thought I couldn't go anymore. I have lived my life on an incline, always fighting an icy uphill battle. It seems that every turn is a new obstacle to overcome, and they come faster and harder each year, somehow surprising me as they come. Still, every time I feel like giving up, I hear your words in my mind, and I am able to keep moving forward with your voice in my head. You, see, old friend, I just can't bear to disappoint you, and when I think of those words from so long ago, I know that you're there with me, telling me I can go on. "The girl's a tryer, isn't she?" I so want to be that. For you. I so want to be more than I feel in the moments of weakness and fear. You were always a source of truth and light for me, and I cannot stand for you to be a liar in the end. So, I will keep trying and trying for you, my friend. I will be the girl that you saw when I was but four, maybe five. I tell you, though, you didn't make it easy for me. You wouldn't take the easy and obvious answer, would you? You made me dig deeper. You made me work harder. You made me be better. I'm sure I never thanked you, did I? Did you know you saved my life? You saved my sister's and my mother's, too. She came to you when she had no idea what to do. He made life miserable, this much I know you knew. But he made it scary and dangerous for us, too. He left bruises on more than our souls, and you told mom what she was able to do. You helped us escape, and you probably saved his life, too. Four lives you helped to save, and I never got to say "thank you." I never saw you again, either, and it breaks my heart in two. We left so quickly, and we couldn't say where to. We ran across the country and became surrounded by no one we knew. I missed you desperately. Though, as I look back, I didn't know it was true. I was so young, old friend. I was angry and scared, and I never got to tell you what you meant to me. We went back to that place quite a few years back, now. My sister and I tried to make amends with him. I'm sure you would guess how it didn't work out so well in the end. We met at another Brother's house, though, not fools completely, at least. We asked about you and your beautiful wife named Nat. Oh, how we longed to see you and hoped you might show up. I could tell from that Brother's face that dad had fed him a line or two about us. All sorts of stories I believe he must have spread around about mom and her two girls. We disappeared without a trace, but that was your idea, wasn't it? This Brother's face changed awfully quick when we mentioned your name. And dad just dropped the bomb like it wouldn't tear us up. You'd been gone for years - both you and Nat. I never cried in public. Do you remember that about me? Even as a child, I wouldn't let the tears fall, no matter what transpired. But as he spoke those words so cruel and full of evil, I couldn't hold it in. We cried for you, our friend. What a cherished man you were. He fetched us a tissue, his face changing as he saw. Just the difference between the two girls who sat crying over you, and the man who acted like it was nothing new. He retrieved the memorial program from the day they'd said goodbye to you, and he and his wife told us the story of how you left the world the way you'd lived. You were fixing a fence and got electrocuted, and Nat rushed over to you. She tried to help in her fear and grief, and she went away with you. It's been a couple decades now - since I heard the truth about you. I still cry when I think of all the things you did for us. How many others did you save in the same way? To how many others did you show true love and loyalty? I know this for certain, at least. You called me "a tryer," and I never said "thank you." I wanted you to know, dear, dear man, just how much it meant to me. How much you meant to me. I've lived my life with your words in my mind and on my heart. And even though, I never got to tell you back then, I needed you to know. Just one more thing I'd like to say to you. I wait for the day when these words I'll speak and you'll hear: You were so much more than my Bible teacher in the end. You were my grandfather and hero, and you were my first true friend. I lived my life, trying to honor you, and I know what was behind those three words you said back then. "She's a tryer," you said. The words I should have said to you back then, I didn't. But you were so wise, I think you must have known. I hope you did, but if not, I'll say them now. Thank you, my Brother, my father, my teacher, my friend. I loved you each and every day. Since I was a child and all the way until the end. I love you, too, my dear, dear, old friend. Thank you for never giving up on me. Love, The girl who tried. ❤
By Lena Beana4 years ago in Humans
Vocal Heroes, I choose you . Top Story - January 2022.
It takes great courage to bare ones soul, fully knowing that we are releasing our innermost and deepest pain, sorrow, shame, joy, disappointments and even failures, for all to see. Yet we do so every day, on this writing platform.
By Novel Allen4 years ago in Humans
Dear School Bus Driver
Dear Miss Sandy, It wasn't until about the fourth grade that I was blessed to meet you. Before you, there was the mean bus driver, whose name I will not mention, but you would know who I mean. It wasn't easy walking to that bus stop every day in the wind and rain and sleet and snow, and the ride to school was even colder than my fingers so blue. I think you know it's true.
By Lena Beana4 years ago in Humans
Happiness, Success or Creativity Depends on Friendship With Boredom
‘Boredom comes’, a phrase we may have heard over and over in every child's mouth. If there is not a single event that can keep the child active or interested, then the child gets bored. In earlier times when a child was bored, he would be distracted by a toy, a story or a game.
By parth rakangor4 years ago in Humans
Miss K: Thank You
During my childhood, I had very few people that I could depend on to be my support system. As I have stated in other articles, I went through a lot of trauma in my childhood that resulted in me not being very trusting with other people, developing some unhealthy habits around relationships or else not being able to “see” the red flags. I often tried to find people who gave me even the slightest bit of kindness; that only resulted in my getting used by others for selfish gain. One person that I could depend on to be my shoulder to cry on was my English teacher, for the sake of privacy I am going to refer to her as Miss K.
By Kelsey O'Malley4 years ago in Humans
The Ongoing Tale...
Back in the early 1960s, when my parents, grandmother and I would visit my grandfather’s grave every Sunday after Mass, I would be enthralled by the litany of surnames on the various headstones cloistered about Dada’s plot. Mount Hope Cemetery was, as was then the custom, divided into the Roman Catholic section and, then, everyone else. In recent years, I’ve noticed some other religious iconography amidst the ‘others’, but the RCs still have that bit to ourselves.
By Marie McGrath4 years ago in Humans
