humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
Death and Chocolate
My wife and I are a bit of a cliche. She's a nurse and I was a cop. Nurses and cops seem to be a common match. I'd like to think that it's because they understand each other. Both jobs seeing the worst that humanity can experience. In reality I suspect that it's more probably the proximity rule. With seven billion people in the world, our search for a soulmate seems to only extend to the several thousand people in our immediate proximity. Cops are always in hospitals, seeing victims, guarding bad guys and helping with psych patients so cops and nurses are always in close contact.
By Michael Calam5 years ago in Humans
Return to Dust
I noticed it the first time I drove by, and then again, and again. I drove by it every day on my way to work because there was nothing else to see. It sat completely alone in the middle of a vast flat sea of gravel and desert scrub, and yet close enough so that I can see it leaning one knee, the rest of it slumping down in surrender and abandonment. It seemed to be calling to me, like a needy person holding a battered "need help" sign at an intersection in the city. I merely looked at it for many weeks as I drove by.
By Elizabeth Jarvis5 years ago in Humans
Introduction To Cosmic Warfare
Hello everyone, my name is Dalton Merritt. The purpose for writing this is to explain to everyone the purpose of Cosmic Warfare. Cosmic Warfare deals with issues pertaining to to the great questions in our world. Here I will cover the spiritual, philosophical, scientific subjects and everything else that goes along with it. It is my hope that you will enjoy this content. I hope to grow and help others grow if possible as well.
By Dalton Merritt5 years ago in Humans
CATFISH WISDOM
Catfish Wisdom Grandpa Ed died in 1973. He taught me about skinning a catfish during my summers in the early Sixties. I was skinny, with red hair, freckled, and not much taller than the rusty oil drum beside the old red barn out back. That patch of soil in dusty Geronimo, Oklahoma was a favorite spot for the farm cats. Kitchen scraps lay strewn about the weeds, becoming compost. Grandpa Ed used the 55-gallon drum to burn trash. Inside was sooty and smelled like burnt paper. A concrete block was beside it in the dirt. A piece of plywood leaned against the drum. Grandpa Ed used it as a fish-cleaning table whenever we came back with a catch.
By Stephen Vernarelli5 years ago in Humans
Ecstasy is a Step into an Alternative Reality
If you do not know by now who Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi is, let me enlighten you. The book “Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience” is based on the authors ‘interviews of people who appeared to obtain a lot out of life, either in their work or their extracurricular activities – not only the artists and musicians, but also people from all walks of life, including surgeons and business leaders, and those who found satisfaction in sports and games. Csikszentmihalyi found that all of them described a similar sensation when they were totally engaged in an activity they enjoyed and could do well. They all reported achieving a state of mind with no sense of self, in which things came to them automatically – a feeling of “flow”.
By Annaelle Artsy5 years ago in Humans
Hello, my name is M(A)E(L)
Our names are a massive part of how we communicate with the world. In one sense, they’re just sounds we make to get each other’s attention –it would get pretty confusing if we all called each other, “Hey, you!” Yet, on the other hand, our names provide a sense of identity and belonging –they set us apart from everyone else. Even when we meet someone with the same first name as us, our middle and last names will differ, and even the reason that name was chosen for us.
By Maeple Fourest5 years ago in Humans
Escape To The Imagination Island . Top Story - July 2021.
Disconnection has always meant connecting with an intangible space, another realm that exists not in but above my head. It’s not heaven, its more like a life that could have been, or once was. I can’t touch it but I can see it, distinctly For me, disconnection is inner peace, it is the quiet that I crave during the insanity of the day. I get there by writing my sentences and scavenging for old photographs and piecing them together in a book that probably won't translate much meaning to anyone else.
By Alyssia Balbi5 years ago in Humans
Left/Right Sanctuary
Another red light, but I can use it to rest on this uphill climb. My legs are tired and it’s humid. “Damn, Mike and Georgia are getting divorced after 22 years?” I say to myself. “Clara and I are at 17 years. I thought Mike and Georgia would be together forever.”
By L Dean Oliver5 years ago in Humans
Thirteen Years To Live
I was at that stage in my life where I began to ponder what little bit of future I might have left. After all, I was 62 years old, and the average lifespan of the American woman is 75 years. So, theoretically, I have thirteen years to cram a lot of stuff in I haven’t ever done! Oh, I did the usual things women were expected to do when I was younger, but not before I joined the Air Force in 1980, and sowed some wild oats. Then I complied with societal expectations, got married, and had kids, well…maybe not in that exact order anyway. I spent the next several years trying to raise good kids, make good meals, and be a good wife.
By Robin Edwards5 years ago in Humans
