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!"
Noah Miller
You can feel it in your gut when something’s missing. You want to run away from that feeling, because you want to convince yourself that everything’s fine, that you’re fine, and that you have everything you need. I was that girl. I was sure of the fact that my heart was completely intact, and I didn’t need anything else to complete it.
By something wilde8 years ago in Humans
Paul Liriano
I never quite gave this one enough credit. I chased a lot of things in high school—especially people. I had an unexplainable need for certain people to see me. I don’t know why I wanted it. I’m not sure why I needed it, but for some reason, I thought I did. So that’s what I focused on. I did everything in my power to get what I thought I wanted, and in time, I began to miss what was right in front of me.
By something wilde8 years ago in Humans
Carly Steinbacher
I had to take your entire chapter and write it all over again. When I composed the rough draft, I had no idea that you would mean as much to me as you do now. You are not a safe place or a sheltered space to hide away in. You are the only solid ground I can stand on. Without you, anything that makes me who I am would cease to exist.
By something wilde8 years ago in Humans
Jessica Williams
One Tree Hill is a show that quite literally changed the game for me. I started applying every line to every aspect of my life. I found a piece of myself in every character, every story line. There are days where I’ll finish the series and start it all over again.
By something wilde8 years ago in Humans
Running Away from Your Problems
Have you ever just wanted to run away from home? Well I have, and as a matter of fact, I did. I know people tell you not to run away from your problems, but I did run away from my problems. My problems all started when I found out my best friend turned into a back stabber...
By Shelby Spencer8 years ago in Humans
My Uphill Battle with Friendship
Since I was a kid, I’ve had trouble making and keeping good friends. Even in the first grade one day, everyone was writing one of those “All About Me” books and we were told to write about our friends. At the end of the project, when everyone read their books aloud, I was not to be found on this page from any of my thirty one classmates.
By stupid weenie8 years ago in Humans
5 Ways Having a Roommate Has Made Me a Better Person
I will be straightforward. I was raised as an only child, thus, I can be an inconsiderate brat with sharing issues. But after living with a roommate (whom I am lucky enough to also call a friend) for the last 9 months, I have become a better person in (at the very least) 5 ways. And to many of you out there, these are not particularly noteworthy ways; but I am finding that it's the little things that define who we are as people. I am here to appreciate those little things.
By Victoria DuCharme8 years ago in Humans
Thought of the Day
Friendships. They’re weird as fuck, one minute a person is just another person in a room, then maybe a colleague or classmate or simply a stranger in a bar. Then boom. You pick one and just go with it, you have many so you can choose which one you want to invest time and effort in. Some are funny, others are kind whilst some are smart and some, well some are all of the above. Fundamentally you find a person who makes you happy when you’re with them, who brings something extra to your life that makes the effort to spend time with them, message them and go places with them all worth it. Some last months others years, an unspoken hierarchy in your head, the ones you’d drop anything for and the ones you tolerate because they only a dick 70% of the time.
By Chloe Hicks8 years ago in Humans
The Squad at 227 on Sunset Road
They were probably promised the world, when they were young, when their beauty was the most important quality they should have had. See Claudia still argues it is, but she’s covered it because she’s fucking tired of people telling her how it should be, she hid beauty behind layers of fat flaps that she doesn’t even bother to cover anymore. You can still see it in her face—beauty—the pain of it and what it must have meant to carry it around, the burden of those eyes. She was left alone, even he, the only man she ever loved and wanted and gave herself to, didn’t think beauty was enough in the end. And now she’s strong. She knows she lives a true life only now that she can stuff her face in cake. And she doesn’t have to be beautiful because she doesn’t give a shit, because it is not important anymore, because she enjoys being able to eat beans and fart all night alone in her bed. Now, Claudia lives next door to Barbara, and she heard her man beating her up. She heard it always at the same time, she heard every single slap she's been given, and knows how Barbara learned to scream in silence and cover the black marks on her neck with contour, because the shit-head squeezes tight around her neck and it felt almost as if she died last night. Claudia has monitored like a KGB agent and timed every fight, she now knows in detail the routine of the piece of shit, she’s been looking at the arms of the clock, counting every second, making notes, staying up, making cakes, eating cakes, giving no fucks. Tonight is the last night Barbara will be hurt, but Claudia knows she can’t do it alone. So she recruits from upstairs, the force of the women of the Smith family, mainly Helena, the queen of the kitchen and chained to her dishwasher and her side kick Gemma, the cleaning lady from the South of the country where tomatoes are as big as aunt Dina's head and they taste like stake. See Gemma didn’t take no shit from men either, and even if she didn’t go to school she was strong enough to hit her husband with the stir-fry wok the night he came back drunk and tried to set the house on fire with her in it, and her little daughter sleeping in her little bed. But Gemma hit him hard, and he fell on his knees, she tells the story laughing so hard her face goes pale. They all listen as smoke like chimneys. See it’s all they got now, nicotine, coffee and taking no shit. They listen to Gemma laugh as hard as hell as she tells them how he was on his knees and tried to grab her apron, but that wasn’t a smart move because he uncovered the back of his head, you see, and that’s when she hit him again and he fell on his stupid, red, drunk face and stayed there, and didn’t wake up until the police dragged him out the day after and told him to never, ever come back. And Gemma dreamt of that moment, the moment she could finally get rid of him, and still she laughs about it as she takes another drag and says “If I knew the wok had worked so well I would have done it fucking sooner.” Swearing is a thing, you see, no book of etiquette, or code of politeness for Gemma, nor Claudia, nor Barbara, nor Helena nor her four broken hearted, fucked up daughters. The tragi-comedy of five vaginas behaving like men in a patriarchal household, such a mess for little men thinking they are someone. Gemma has suddenly become the head of the committee. Barbara’s man has to go. The man is already down, he just doesn’t know yet. So they gather the courage, and a few tools, Gemma thought she might as well pick up the biggest wok, the upper class now bourgeois wok, in other words the heavier wok, Helena just will bring her motherly stare, and the power she borrowed from her husband’s name, the one who doesn’t touch her, look at her, or hasn’t asked her how she feels today in eight years, the one who maybe cheats on her but doesn’t even know how to put bread in the toaster. Claudia thinks she can just throw her self at him flapping like a bat. So they wait, and wait, and wait, Claudia has timed it all, and they wait and wait tick, tock, tick, tock said the fucking clock.
By Clara Malaussène8 years ago in Humans
Little Tribe 1973
Ten houses up our street, then down an embankment filled with trees and brambles, was the secret meeting place. Dawn, who lived next door to me, led me there on a spring day, near the end of fifth grade. I didn’t know much about the world, but I knew I loved the thought of adventure, so I willingly followed.
By Sarah Terra8 years ago in Humans
