Humanity
42
Can I be honest with you? Ten months ago I thought about killing myself. It was only fleeting and it was enough to scare me into doing something about it, but it was there. This is the first time I’ve written about it, mainly because I'm still processing it myself: why did I, with no history of mental wobbles and as someone who’s always been calm and in control of everything in his life, stand on a bridge at three in the morning and consider throwing myself into the river? It's an ongoing process. Even as I sit here tapping on the keyboard I constantly pause for reflection, trying to tease out the reason from a tangle of half-understood emotions.
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Confessions
Pete
Hey I’m Atlas the Kid. I’m a 20-year violinist, songwriter, writer and recording artist. Like fire, mankind discovered music in the dark. With patience and curiosity we grew to understand its power and with it we became enlightened. Today I wanted to take some time to talk about my last EP and put down some thoughts on the music. Mostly because some folks think April should be happier music. I say, Nah.
By Atlas the Kid5 years ago in Confessions
The Pain of Others
Did we have space? Who had case capacity? What options did the survivor have for government benefits, for immigration relief, for medical care, for legal protections, for help with their children, for work, for future housing? Did we have any funds left for an emergency hotel or Safeway gift cards? Could anyone else make it to their court hearing next week? How could we support an undocumented survivor in leaving abuse, given that their abuser had a gun, routinely threatened to report them to ICE, and that the survivor was completely opposed to involving law enforcement? What about the survivor who wanted a divorce, but felt they couldn’t separate from their abusive spouse until their joint asylum case concluded? Who could we report police misconduct to, or discrimination we encountered while interacting with district attorneys or court personnel? And as we tried to untangle all the different logistical aspects of someone’s case, how could we also help alleviate this person’s suffering, hold their trauma, affirm their rage, ease their despair, help them feel less alone?
By Shewriteshere5 years ago in Confessions
3 Reasons You Should Never Say What You Don’t Want
I had a friend who sadly passed away six years ago. Michael (not his real name for reasons which will become clear) was a very smart guy. Michael spoke several languages in addition to his native tongue of English. He was fluent in Russian, French and Spanish. He was a very in demand online, freelance translator for Wall Street investment brokers who wanted to do business abroad.
By Liam Ireland5 years ago in Confessions
A Modern Dilemma
Thirty minutes after our last fight, Lannie and I were driving south on California Interstate Highway 163 through Balboa Park. This is a beautiful stretch of two-lane highway that usually gives me a great deal of pleasure. For about four miles you travel through a lush subtropical jungle of ferns, eucalyptus trees, and grassy hillsides; it’s as if you have been transported to the Pacific Northwest; refreshing, to say the least. Not too far north, 163 is a typical six-lane freeway that clogs up like a fat man’s arteries during daily rush hours, but this four-mile stretch through Balboa Park, as you pass the zoo, is as beautiful as any highway on Lanai or Kauai. Local legend has it that JFK once deemed this section of Interstate 163: “the most beautiful highway in America.”
By Richard L. Boyer5 years ago in Confessions
Turning Fat During The Pandemic
Everyone's worse nightmare or maybe it's just mine... but I've gained over 10 pounds since this pandemic started and I hate looking at my body now. I was once a track and cross country girl who always looked good in a bikini and could pull off bralettes.
By Chantel5 years ago in Confessions
Treasure Map
There is that very famous poem by Robert Frost, about choices you make in life: The Road Not Taken. It speaks of a path in the woods splitting two ways. Both ways are just as fair, and the passing there had worn them really about the same, both equally lay. The narrator finally chose a path; the one (he deemed) less traveled by, and that made all the difference.
By Ames5 years ago in Confessions
