humanity
For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.
I'm Transparent About Being a Male Sexual Assault Survivor
“Rise above the storm and you will find the sunshine.” - Mario Fernandez November 14, 2014 was the day that my life was forever changed. Four years ago, I was sexually assaulted. I won't share the details with everyone, because you can go get your porn from somewhere else. I kept quiet about my assault for almost three years, and I internalized all of that trauma.
By Danny Weaver7 years ago in Humans
Holiday Wars
~~~*Holiday Wars*~~~ Thanksgiving was not happy, not even a little bit, as he looked out over the world on his day of days. He witnessed the huddled freezing masses lined up in front of storefronts and shops waiting in desperation for another holiday’s season to begin, Christmas.
By Terry James7 years ago in Humans
Hello It's Me
While I was listening to the radio, the announcer talked about a writing project that is all the rage these days, writing a letter to himself. This letter from me to me, which is particularly addressed to our younger self, the one we were as teenagers, as children.
By Caroline Brazeau7 years ago in Humans
Fishman Chapter Ten
Todd always seems to be the first to bar and loves being the last to leave. In the corner of the pub where cold pints covered the little table by the fire, Todd shows me some of his favourite screenshots of the chat logs he’s had with the catfish Kathleen. They got her down to a T. They got all her old photos and began uploading them as if they were recent.
By Chloe Gilholy7 years ago in Humans
Unwanted
Unwanted The first time I felt like a trash bag, blown away drifting and stained with filth and holes was the day I watched her go. Every year the celebration of the great existence and sacrifices of mothers around the world gets gifts, love and appreciation from their daughters and sons. Nothing indents deeper than having the notion of being unwanted by their mothers. Each year the gradual residue of her absence became the shield of my pain. Many times we forget the damaged particle within us by pretending they are dead. On days where I witness little girls with their mothers wearing matching sun dresses, I’d often pretend my doll was her. For some years until twelve I truly thought she abandoned me because I was a wicked little one, and was undesired and unwanted. There were questions flying through my scattered head, but no answers. I remember moving quite some times and each time it was farther and farther from her. Soon, her face almost completely melted away from my memories. It was such an ugly thing to admit, but I was relieved to erase her face.
By Aiyan Turley7 years ago in Humans
Fishman Chapter Nine
I think about the dream I had last night. It’s just a dream, it’s not and it never will be a flashback: Kathleen had no bad bone in her body. I’m not a gambling man, but if I was, I would bet that Kathleen was a superior angel in heaven. The world feels empty without her. The kindness she showed towards all of us is something that I will never forgot.
By Chloe Gilholy7 years ago in Humans
Antisocial Media
On an August morning I sat and I scrolled through a friend’s Facebook feed. Smiling at photos, status updates, his reminiscing of memories past, his plans for the future. The excitement of the plane tickets booked for November to get some sun whilst the rest of us lived through another grey(t) British winter, the picnic planned for the week after next with family to celebrate a special birthday...and I tried desperately to spot a sign. Anything that would have alerted me to his choice to take his own life.
By Heather Wride7 years ago in Humans
Beauty
"Aunty Seun, we can't take that bike," Kemi lashed out in disgust. "Why?" I asked. She replied,"The Okada man is ugly." The above dialogue transpired between me and a certain younger friend of mine, to say I was bewildered would be a restrained statement of the century. For a moment, as brief as a flicker of light, I became lost for words, but went alongside her to get a motorbike man who, to her, is better looking or good looking. I still wish I could get into the wires of her head and figure out why the external features of a man who we'll likely forget, whose service was to move us from our inertia to our destination, seemed to be important to her.
By Seun Ayorinde7 years ago in Humans
Fishman Chapter Eight
“Hi Bobby!” Sarah smiles at me as if we were still married. From the way she holds me hands and pecks my cheek, makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I can never bring myself to hate her, even after her betrayal. A part of my soul still lives within her. Seeing her again for the first time in years just makes me want to smile.
By Chloe Gilholy7 years ago in Humans
On Cold Concrete
It was ten o’clock at night when Peter was getting off his shift at the popular pizza joint in his neighborhood. It was the same time every night for the last three years. He was working his way through college courses to earn his degree and get a better paying job. He was single and twenty-four years old with nothing much to show for his life except a bank account with money he was saving for a rainy day.
By Brandi Payne7 years ago in Humans
The Art of Dating: Paris vs. New York
When it comes to dating, Paris and New York are like two famous men: both come with reputations that precede them. On one side of the Atlantic we have have the elitist Frenchmen, self-proclaimed ardent lovers who, paradoxically, reject the entire concept of “dating” as a restricting endeavor where romance goes to die.
By Dbag Dating7 years ago in Humans
Acts Of Kindness
That old ‘89 Ford Ranger was full of character. Until my dad fixed it, The Ranger drove for months in four-wheel drive, low range, 4th gear, because the rest of the transmission was shot. There was no need for keys, the doors didn’t lock, and the engine started with just a turn of the butterfly ignition. It was missing the handle on the curbside door, making its driver be a gentleman and get out to open the door for his passengers. The wheels were all but bald as wires poked from the driver side wheel and the break pads were all but gone. This metallic steed wasn’t large, but it did all it was ever asked of.
By Glen Hance7 years ago in Humans
