humanity
The real lives of businessmen, professionals, the everyday man, stay at home parent, healthy lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories.
The Gate We All Walk Through
I didn’t realize I’d disappeared until I saw my reflection and didn’t recognize myself. It wasn’t sudden. It was slow—a word silenced here, an opinion softened there, a laugh forced to match the room. I traded pieces of myself for acceptance, like coins dropped into a vending machine that never gave back what I paid for.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Keeper of Secrets
I didn’t go in for a book. I went in to escape the rain. It was a gray Tuesday in March, the kind of day that presses down on your chest like a wet blanket. I’d just received news I wasn’t ready for—a job lost, a relationship frayed, the quiet unraveling of plans I’d spent years building. I walked without direction, shoulders hunched, until I saw it: a narrow storefront with a flickering “Open” sign and a window full of leaning paperbacks.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Last Game of the Season
I didn’t go for the win. I went because it was the last game. The gym was packed—folding chairs lined the walls, parents stood in the back, and the buzz of nervous energy hung thick in the air. Two rival high schools, decades of history, one championship on the line. But I wasn’t there for the trophy. I was there for my nephew, who’d spent all season riding the bench.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Man Who Fixed the Clock
I didn’t notice the clock was broken until it stopped. It sat on the corner shelf of my grandparents’ living room for as long as I could remember—brass, ornate, with Roman numerals and a soft, steady tick that marked the rhythm of every visit. My grandfather wound it every Sunday without fail, even in his nineties, even when his hands shook.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
The Boy Who Carried the Ball Home
I didn’t go to the game for the score. I went because my nephew asked me to. He’s twelve, wears his hair in a messy bun, and talks about basketball like it’s a secret language only he and the ball understand. “It’s not about winning,” he’d said, eyes bright. “It’s about who shows up when it matters.”
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Journal
I Interviewed 100 People About Their 'One That Got Away.' The Patterns Were Haunting
Love is universal, but loss is inevitable. We all have a story of someone who slipped through our fingers—the one who lingered in memory, even when life moved on. I interviewed 100 people about their “one that got away” to uncover patterns in heartbreak, regret, and longing. What emerged was haunting, yet oddly enlightening.
By Wilson Igbasiabout a month ago in Journal
The 'Nostalgia Industrial Complex' Is Robbing Us of Our Actual Memories.
Every decade, it seems like something old becomes suddenly “new again.” Movies, TV shows, toys, and fashion trends from our childhoods are repackaged and sold back to us. The term “nostalgia industrial complex” describes this phenomenon: a system where corporations, media companies, and marketers capitalize on longing for the past. But the problem isn’t just commercialization—it’s how this cycle distorts our actual memories.
By Wilson Igbasiabout a month ago in Journal
The Simple Reason AI Fails Frequently Is The Same As Why Humans Fail Frequently...
AI has taken the world by storm over the past couple of years. It has taken off so much... That businesses are now starting to replace workers with AI.
By Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, DFM, DHM, DAS (hc)about a month ago in Journal
Journalling - to the year of looking inwardly
I am reading a very interesting book at the moment: Secret Voices - A Year of Women's Diaries, edited by Sarah Gristwood. It is a thick book with a dark green cover and a yellow braid attached for you to keep your page. It is, as you would expect, divided up into days and within each day are entries from women's diaries across the ages.
By Rachel Deemingabout a month ago in Journal
Setting Sails for 2026
The first days of January are often quieter in hospitality. The rush of the festive season fades, dining rooms return to a more familiar rhythm, and the intensity that defines the end of the year slowly settles. Yet responsibility does not disappear with the celebrations. If anything, it becomes more visible.
By Cristian Marinoabout a month ago in Journal
