humanity

The real lives of businessmen, professionals, the everyday man, stay at home parent, healthy lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories.

My Egyptian Savior
I had not slept for 48 hours. I was physically sick, mentally drained, and about to collapse. Yet the dish I tried in the midst of my downfall was the most sensational, carb-licious food I have ever tried. I no longer had any notion of my previous discomforts, for the flavor and zing of this dish took all the pain away. Mind you, I am the type of person that needs their 8 hours of sleep, 10,000 steps, and a gallon of water a day. My body is my temple, however since I had been up for 48 hours trying to get to Egypt, I think that makes my body my pyramid.
By K O5 years ago in Journal
The Puzzler
Managing stress is something I have learned to balance during my lifetime. I understand it can be a motivating factor but I also do not want it to push me over the edge. For the most part, finding time to relax is very important to me since I used to deal with depression years ago. Ever since I fought against my own negative state of mind and beat it I was determined to try my best not to fall back to my old ways. Thus, the need to take some time every week to relax and recoup so that I can stay happy and content with where I am and what I am doing. In general I like to play games, read stories, write, enjoy a cup of coffee, and socialize, all of which does help me relax to an extent. Coffee itself is my daily ritual and my wife and family have gifted several months’ supply of it. However, the activity that works best for me I like to save as a last resort because I feel like if it is used rarely then my mind does not have the opportunity to get bored of it. It would remain interesting and what helps the most is that my wife gifts it to me so I appreciate it even more so since it connects me with her in a sense. That and I have a habit of not spending money on myself so I would never allow myself to purchase something unless I deemed it necessary.
By Ruben Ramos5 years ago in Journal
Dear Vocal Moderators
Hey Vocal Moderators, How ya holdin' up? I mean, seriously. It’s been a rough 24 hours for everybody. You guys hanging in there?
By S. Frazer5 years ago in Journal
The Clock
The only company in the room is the metronomic tick tick tick of the clock across the room. Regardless of where I sit, I can see the red hand move at its unhurried pace around and around again. The single window provides a cold watery light, casting everything in grey, not unfamiliar to the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Beyond the dirty glass to the fields outside there’s an unnatural calm about the sway of the grass and silence of the skies. I’m reminded of a dying man taking his last breath unsure if it will be his last - wary to exhale. The birds that would swell in waves and blacken the sky with their small bodies have nestled into the trees or died. I miss the birds. It used to be the birds were my only friends, the only creatures in this place that understood me. Of course, I don’t blame them for retreating into the known when faced with an astronomical unknown. I can’t decide if it’s comforting knowing birds feel the fear too.
By Chloe Dalton5 years ago in Journal
The Truth
Every individual is different. We have our own ethnicities, sexual affiliations, sexual identifications, our own religious practices, our own political preferences and we all have our own walk of life. That being said, we all have four things in common. We all need oxygen to breathe, we all need a source of income to support our own way of life, we all need sustenance and we all have hobbies that we enjoy doing. The last two of these cannot be done without the hard-working individuals who work at retail stores.
By Tyler Brooke5 years ago in Journal
AN ANATOMY OF A COLD CALL
Me again; your friendly neighborhood “Vocal” correspondent and self-published Fiction author awaiting the ONE manuscript that will mark my “big break.” I mean, I’ve wanted to write fiction since I was around four; and I’ve stuck with that dream for 32-33 years (let’s just say that I don’t write on the side to justify my locker-room cleaning or ice-cream registering habits). So I must DESERVE my big break, right; if, for no other reason, than because I’ve waited this long?
By Kent Brindley5 years ago in Journal
Asalamalakim
Rugged child, closed off to the world, mute, that’s what you could have called me if I didn’t spoke a word to you when I was a child. So much in my life I decided to suppress due to the problematic situations I witnessed in my life. For starters I was, and probably still am just angry & saddened, the reason I am is because I remember previous situations or problems I had as a child going into my teenage years. I often replay these scenarios back in my head to this day because I feel so disappointed in myself, and angry at those who caused me to feel this way. Whether I sparked the problem or someone else did, yet I still must live to remember what I know. Death, suffering, fear, lack of hope was in the air while in school, you’d think as a teenager you would be worried about getting the girl of your dreams, standing up to the school bully, trying out for the sports team to become the most popular kid in school. Except if you change narratives, you’ll see it was the exact opposite for me, I often worried about who was going to kill due to the fact where I lived & who I knew in this world, having to stand up to predators in my community, learning how to fight to live tomorrow. I shed so many tears for those I lost within the past six years, having no time to cope because I had to become the man I needed to be, I knew my life mattered to those who aren’t alive to see my accomplishments. It was all seemed like a lost cause until I found my passion for writing, it was peace & happiness rather than fame & fortune, learning to find myself, knowing myself, through writing I started reading. Learning that we are all one family, Black, White, Colombian, Indigenous, Haitian, Jamaican, Cape Verdean, Guatemalan, Mexican, we are all a family, from the teachings that the original man & woman were of black people, who are the only ones on the planet to create so many beautiful shades of colors such as white, black, brown, light, tan. Meditating on the facts reading more while catching a breeze of the summer air surrounding me, before slavery black people were king & queens of the civilizations long before any hate was spread upon the world.
By 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐗5 years ago in Journal
Writing threads my needle
To literally thread a needle is exactly what the words imply as you are pushing a piece of string/thread through the hole or eye of a needle. In the old days, this was the way women sewed hems in garments when not using an actual sewing machine. The words threading a needle also have a symbolic meaning which is skillfully navigating a rough situation or being precise and accurate during a shot while playing pool or billiards. Threading the needle can also mean a specific manner in which you deal with the stresses of life and for me, that method is writing.
By Cheryl E Preston5 years ago in Journal
Two Kingdoms
Once upon a time in a Kingdom far away a Princess was born. She was born from two worlds. Her mother, The Queen was from a world full of the most magical creatures you ever did see; some tall, some strong and some faster than any man could run. The earth here was so rich it grew the most beautiful flowers, plants and trees with sweetest fruit you ever did taste. Every day the sun would kiss your skin and the sunset would glow golden amber. Her Kingdom was called Congo.
By Marilyn Valentine 5 years ago in Journal
Day 78
Today is May 29. Someday I should go back and write down what happened in the first 50 days. I have notes somewhere. I don’t want to forget. But, I’ve been too stunned. I can’t think straight. I’ve barely cried. I can’t believe WWIII actually happened.
By Naomi Rix5 years ago in Journal
Toss
Today, I saw an article called "Young people, after work, they must be fooling around". After reading it carefully, I think it is priceless and tells a simple story, but it obviously tells not only the story itself, but also the expectation in life and the perfect combination of work and life.
By Raisa Rheda5 years ago in Journal
The June Freeze
March 14th “The ash no longer feels like a dusting of sadness and loneliness; but like the weight of remorse and guilt. Nothing more than speckles reminding me of you. Reminding me of the rain that fell on your viel when we were still able to ignore the world around us, still able to decide for ourselves, still able to take control of how our lives played out. Now look at us; I don’t know what to do anymore, to be honest, I’m not sure I want to even figure it out. What if you aren’t even out there, what if you blame me, not only for not protecting you but for everything leading up to that. What if you see me as a bad guy? I did what I could to stop you from leaving but you weren’t hearing any of it. I even bought you that beautiful locket-not that you were even grateful for it. You told me you didn’t like it; never wanted it. What more was I supposed to do? God, what a waste of money, but I guess in this world, what isn’t a waste of money? 20/20 is crystal clear, I suppose. This whole thing has made so many things so clear. Of course you didn’t want the locket, you wanted me to care, to listen, communicate, to be a better man-the man that you married. If I get out of this alive, I assure you, I will be that for you again. I love you, Cheyenne.
By Sumer Mertens5 years ago in Journal