humanity
Mental health is a fundamental right; the future of humanity depends on it.
"The future of America is Hungary."
Luxurious hotels and upscale restaurants now occupy the center of Budapest, a city once known for its rundown buildings. New monuments have also appeared in the city center. One of them imitates the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, D.C., commemorating Hungary's 19th-century empire. The long granite wall no longer bears the names of fallen soldiers from the wars but instead lists the names of former "Hungarian" regions—now cities and villages in Romania, Slovakia, Ukraine, and Poland—and honors them solemnly with an eternal flame.
By TORRES ROSENDO10 months ago in Psyche
the end of VOLUME 1 of ENFJ Gogol's novel DEAD SOULS
Chichikov did nothing but smile, slightly rising and falling on his leather cushion, because he delighted in rapid motion. And indeed, which Russian isn't fond of speedy travel? How could such a soul, longing to spin wildly, to lose itself in revelry, to sometimes cry out, 'To hell with everything!' --how could his soul not love it? How could one not love it, when it carries a hint of something blissfully magical? It seems as if some enigmatic force has lifted you aloft, borne upon its wing, and you yourself are flying, and everything is flying: the miles sweep past, merchants atop their kibitkas [wagons] hasten to meet you, the forest streams by on either hand with somber files of spruce and pine, resounding with the axe's stroke and the raven's cry; the entire road rushes off to some unknowable vanishing distance, and something terrifying is concealed in this rapid flickering, where the disappearing object does not have time to be discerned -- only the sky above your head, the light clouds, and the struggling moon alone seem motionless. Eh, troika! bird-troika, who was it that conceived you? surely you could only have been born among a spirited people, in that land that cares not for jesting, but has spread out smooth and level over half the earth, and you may go on counting the miles till they dance before your eyes. And it’s no clever device, it seems — no iron bolts hold it together — but with just an axe and a hammer, in haste yet with masterful strokes, a resourceful Yaroslavl peasant crafted you, alive and pulsing. No polished German boots for this coachman: just a wild beard and thick mittens, seated on the Devil knows what, then, with a swift rise, a sweeping motion, and a song bursting forth, the horses surge like a storm, the wheel spokes spinning into a perfect, smooth blur, the road quivers, a frightened passerby cries out -- and away they go, thundering, racing, vanishing into the distance!.. And there, far off, something looms into view, trailing dust and piercing the air.
By ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR10 months ago in Psyche
The Man Who Remembered Everything. AI-Generated.
It started with a nosebleed. Just a thin trickle, ordinary in every way, except for the fact that it followed three days of unusually vivid dreams. Dreams where I spoke languages I’d never studied. Remembered faces I’d never seen. Recited poetry I’d never read.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıran10 months ago in Psyche
Sorry, But I'm Not Gambling...
Background and Context: I love long-form video content. If I'm watching YouTube, I will seek out the longest video with the deepest dive to sink my teeth into. Whilst watching these videos there are obvious and fairly annoying, bursts of advertisements. I counted that in a few days alone of video content watching, I had seen 35 advertisements with 33 of those being dedicated to online gambling in some form. I say in some form because some of them were advertising Sky Vegas gambling which is a site that collects gambling games and puts them in one place, but then there were also adverts for apps in which the player could play a game that resembles gambling or is actual gambling. However, I have never gambled in my life and even after seeing the adverts, I am no closer to doing so. I am in contrast, interested in this over-saturation of gambling adverts that I have also been told a lot of people have been receiving.
By Annie Kapur10 months ago in Psyche
The Time Illusion: Why We Never Feel Like We Have Enough. AI-Generated.
“Time is money,” they said. “Don’t waste it.” Yet somehow, despite our calendars, to-do lists, reminders, and productivity apps, we end every week feeling like we’ve run out of something invisible and irreplaceable.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıran10 months ago in Psyche
How Humans Suppress Their Emotions. AI-Generated.
In every social gathering, workplace interaction, or fleeting encounter on a busy street, there is one silent ritual almost everyone participates in — the suppression of emotion. A smile that hides a worry, a nod that masks resentment, a calm tone that veils grief. We are, consciously or not, participants in an ongoing performance, shaped by culture, upbringing, and personal coping strategies.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıran10 months ago in Psyche
Glass and Sand
I write in abstract, from a place within myself, a transitory philosophical non-representational 'speak', not of real life happenings, which is expected of me, but of a more evolved view of life wrapped in a metamorphosis of my thoughts. I have no life shattering tale to tell...or maybe I am averse to the telling...of that I am unsure.
By Antoni De'Leon10 months ago in Psyche
Memories
My name is Michael Zimmermann. At least that’s what the man standing over my hospital bed called me. It didn’t sound quite right but since I didn’t remember what my name was, I accepted it. Michael Zimmermann. It sounded kind of strange to me. But I had no idea who I was. I had no Idea who the man standing over me was. I don’t know why I was in the hospital. I had a vague memory of, nope. It was gone. The only memory I had was Gregory Zimmerman standing over me. He said that he was my father. Without anything else to go on, I went home with him.
By David E. Perry10 months ago in Psyche
My Disabled/ Partially Immobile Mother's Mental Health Is One Of My Top Priorities.. Content Warning.
The feeling of powerlessness. It's a feeling I am growing accustomed to when it comes to caretaking for my sick family. Between a sister struggling with her first round of chemo, a brother who can't eat solid food anymore, and an almost completely bedridden mother with Multiple Sclerosis, being powerless is a feeling that I have been forced to acknowledge a lot lately. And that is a feeling that can destroy someone like me. Or my poor mama.
By Hope Martin10 months ago in Psyche
Chapter IV: The Fool’s Lament Beneath the Comet’s Eye
Kraków was engulfed in night like a heavy coat that thickened and resisted shedding, as if there were an invisible force rejecting all life around. Inside a chamber dark as the depths of a comet’s tail spilling through a window, glowing a faint grey, sat a man alone. His clothes were a strange mixture of bright red and black, adorned with jingle bells that rang out laughter, as though whatever once caused them to do so was simply an echo now devoid of sound. This man was Stańczyk, the court jester, yet the expression on his face was anything but jovial. He appeared astonishingly forlorn, his haunted gaze lost deep within the throes of a letter weightily spread open on the table before him. All Stańczyk could notice was a broken, worn wax seal that appeared flaccid like human desire, and the letter whispered softly with the simple phrase 'Smolensk is lost.'
By LUCCIAN LAYTH10 months ago in Psyche
