humanity
Mental health is a fundamental right; the future of humanity depends on it.
Heaven in the Voice Room. Top Story - September 2024.
This will not be an official report. I will be keeping this in my private files. And I will remain anonymous. Mr. Defoe was one of the newer staff members, but he had already proven himself to be a very valuable asset at the school, covering for other absent teachers, finding lost files (actually discovered one behind a filing cabinet that was so old it was in one of the colours I had not seen in almost a decade), and creating his own lesson plans. With all of that work, the decision to put him in charge of our Voice Room seemed easy enough (the other teachers simply did not want the job, and he was too polite to say no).
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Psyche
One Dollar
Have you ever heard anyone say that they were having one of those days. I can promise you that nobody has ever had one of those days that I had. I only had $2111 to my name. I just paid all of my bills. The mortgage was $1125. My light bill was $155. My gas bill was $105. My water bill was $75. I also had to pay $372 for my child’s medical bills. That did not include the $5 I had to pay for her prescription. After adding tax, the total amount of everything came out to $2112.55.
By David E. Perryabout a year ago in Psyche
Small Change
At the bottom of the Spanish Steps sat little Yolanda Bologna. She was seven years old. She sat as she had, daily, with her legs folded under each other quite unnaturally, making it obvious to anyone who passed her that she had been born this way. Yolanda didn't speak. She only held out a tin cup for the tourists who were checking off another must-see on their Rome adventure. For the Spanish Steps, Yolanda Bologna was just part of the scene, part of that adventure.
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Psyche
Though I Do Not Know You. Top Story - September 2024.
You could never know how much of a difference you made, how could you? Not until I made it clear, anyway. Two strangers. We never met, you don’t even know what I look like, or even my name. All I know of you is from your words and the picture you included. That is all.
By Elizabeth Butlerabout a year ago in Psyche
The Listener
I hate to be woeful, but these days have been less than ideal. Actually I must quite like being woeful, as often as I allow myself to indulge in self-pity; I have even credited it as a personality trait of mine, this talent for sifting through all the positivity in this world and grasping at anything that could make me feel further from contentment. Maybe I seek attention, or comfort from a source outside myself. Perhaps I want to be proven wrong about all the negative truths I have discovered because I require convincing in order to believe in something good. Could it be, even, that I have become addicted to a form of sadness because I have chosen the familiarity of pain over the risk of joy? Regardless, my point is that I go through my days lately feeling downcast unto numbness, and all I really want is for someone to know that.
By Bethany Larsonabout a year ago in Psyche
Marcy Me
You may have seen a famous picture of me. On America’s darkest day, I just wanted to lend my legal expertise to my bank on the 81st floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center. In the photograph, I am covered in ash and dust in my business formal suit. They called me the “Dust Lady.” Rightfully so. My face looked like it had seen a battlefield of corpses. Barely some pieces of my brown skin could be viewed through the white particles that look yellow in some copies, covering the entire area and me. All I knew was that some boom had occurred over a dozen floors above my head and that a horrendous cloud of dust from the South Tower collapse blanketed me with debris.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Psyche
My First Time Closing the Family Business: The Dolphin Car Wash
My name is Michael Holbert and was 18 when my father asked me to take on the responsibility of closing the car wash for the first time. My father had planned an early exit to get a head start on a fishing trip with his buddies at a lake 30 miles away. Since cell phones hadn’t been invented yet, my father made it clear to me that he wouldn’t be reachable once he was on the lake. This left me in charge of all the closing duties, a task filled with many responsibilities I’d never tackled before.
By Fabian Ellisabout a year ago in Psyche
Sleepsitting
Overview Sleepsitting, also known as somnamsedens, is when people sit (or attempt to lie) down while asleep. It's more common in children than adults. Children usually outgrow sleepsitting by the teen years. Sleepsitting that happens once in a while often isn't a serious problem and doesn't need treatment. But sleepsitting that happens a lot may suggest an underlying sleep disorder.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Psyche
Saved By The Bell…
I’m breaking the rules of this challenge off the bat, and if that disqualifies me than so be it. In fact at first I didn’t even intend to enter this particular challenge, and I’m probably not a good enough writer to win regardless. One thing I’m sure of is that in my hectic life as a single dad I don’t always take the time out of my day to something nice enough for someone to inspire a winning story anyway.
By Kenneth cruzabout a year ago in Psyche
A Spark of Kindness
The morning sun struggled to pierce through the overcast sky on that fateful Tuesday, casting a somber atmosphere that mirrored my heavy heart as I braced myself for another lengthy, uneventful shift at the local grocery store. Clocking in for the day, I reluctantly took my place behind the checkout counter, mechanically scanning items with a sense of detachment as a steady stream of customers passed through the line.
By Faceless Limabout a year ago in Psyche
