Top Stories
Stories in Humans that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Surviving Progress
Art is the purest form of communication, and only exists as it is experienced. It is infused within the soul of the artist, just as science is infused within the soul of the universe. Does man create art, or does art use man as a vehicle for its creation?
By Elaine Rutledge3 months ago in Humans
Four-Star Thoughts. Runner-Up in Maps of the Self Challenge.
Remember 2012? In some circles, there was talk of a galactic alignment, a rare formation when our solar system crossed into the "galactic plane" and was at the center of our galaxy. There, in the "photon belt," we received a massive infusion of light, opening channels to higher realms of awareness.
By Nicky Frankly3 months ago in Humans
The Accidental Poet
I knew even from an early age that I was artistic; and to this day, that creative spark has never diminished. The problem, like many children growing up, was finding my niche. A specific art form that I wanted to associate myself with. So, I tried to search for it in different crafts; drawing, cartooning, music, making short films at home, or even creating stories in my head that never ended up on paper. Interestingly enough, poetry was not one of them.
By Levi Dickson3 months ago in Humans
the loop. Content Warning.
no one stopped. no one stopped and looked at me with care in their eyes when they found out. they looked at me with apathy and said they didn’t worry because my wounds weren’t as deep as someone else’s. they said they weren’t deep enough to do anything. so i went home and sliced through my skin and spent hours in the bathroom because the only solace i felt was in there. they looked at me and asked, why? i didn’t say anything, i could barely force myself to breathe. so they slapped me, again, why? my lips trembled, my palms sweat. how do i tell them that there are so many things creeping into my mind, into my head, into my heart that i couldn’t cope anymore, that breathing hurts, existing hurts, that i just want to be dead. how do i voice how much i want to disappear. so i say, i don’t know, another slap. this time it makes my ears ring. i pray they hit me harder.
By sumiya akter3 months ago in Humans
My Mental Health Journey in Map Pins. Runner-Up in Maps of the Self Challenge.
I’m getting on an airplane tomorrow to go to Thailand. It’s my first time going to a destination wedding. I’m tremendously excited, but the act of undertaking a long journey makes me introspective.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA4 months ago in Humans
Scorpio Pig.
When coming up with a title for this, I came to the brilliant realisation that I am a Scorpio Pig. A classic and undisputable Scorpio (though the horoscope vs reality debate lives on) and a 1995 year of the pig baby. I’ve always liked being a Scorpio, but the pig thing took a minute. A couple years ago my friend took me micro-pig walking for my birthday, did you know pigs have a hierarchy system? Seriously. They take rankings very seriously, and as my pig Mr Darcy was pushed out the way by his superior, I found out just how serious it was.
By Kirstyn Brook4 months ago in Humans
A Hate Letter to Personal Statements
I find myself once again writing personal statements for grad school applications. Why I would do such a thing to myself again after so many years of not doing that, I have no clue. Perhaps I have a sadistic streak, an echo of my Catholic upbringing which manifests the typical emotional self-flagellation into a desire to apply to and inevitably get rejected from grad school. I could put applications in all day, don’t get me wrong. I love going over checklists and reaching out to old professors asking them sweetly if they would be so kind as to say nice things about me on the official record for Miscellaneous University and their Obscure College of the Performing Arts. But good God, dude, why do I have to write a damn personal statement for each and every one of these programs?
By Steven Christopher McKnight3 months ago in Humans
Médea's Recipes for Life. Winner in Maps of the Self Challenge.
The book was waiting where I left it when I came home from the funeral: on my kitchen table, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a red velvet ribbon. My grandmother never wrapped gifts like that. She preferred wax paper and flax string, that could be repurposed later like leftover stew.
By Imola Tóth4 months ago in Humans
