Life is unpredictable because we are wolves to each other.
Life is unpredictable because we are wolves to each other.
People like to share stories. Anthropologists tell us that this is how humans make sense of the world around us and how we always feel the urge to share the meaning of our existence with other people close to us.
There is this school, a large yellow Titanic in the middle of a town. It was a church school once. Now it’s cracked in half. One-half of this school a witness to bold creatures traveling its painted walls, painted with hope, painted with mischief, and a notion that they were meant to do something different.
After last week’s and this week’s events, it is safe to say that there are definitely cats in America. Ordinary Fievels like me are no longer convinced that the cats are only in our war-torn countries. However, I still believe that that American heroes are fighting against the injustice every day and that the bad cats will definitely end up in a pound.
Death teaches us that a loss of a dear person is longing for the past happiness we embedded in our memories, like carvings left on the stone wall of our existence; Each carving, a timeline indicator, marking a notch on the graph showing our longevity.
America for me is everything, the land, its people, a mixture of textures and sounds and colors; it is my ability to call the community of different people my own. That is my church, so to speak.
Lately, my quaint New England town has seen a large number of black bears. Bears are popping up everywhere; bears in the yards; bears on the streets, decks. Soon the bears will be showing up for afternoon barbecues for burgers and beer. A friend of mine even saw Mr. and Mrs. Bear getting-it-on on the side of the local highway. These bears have no shame!
My childhood shell has become very thin and fragile, and no matter how much I try to protect it and save pieces that I feel I should gift to my children, they keep disappearing.
Mud caked jeans, goat yoga and more
I am not closer to gaining any answers and my anxiety increases. No one tells you when you are young that being an adult is a perpetual exercise in worrying and wondering about what each next day is going to bring. No one tells you that relationships become more intricate and that there are no real answers, but more sub-plots, theories, and conjectures, which are, of course, very hard to prove or understand.
Images of war remind me of human cruelty and greed, but they also remind me of how beautiful and strong humans can be. We never remember those kicking the victims in the pictures, we only remember those faces who exude strength and love and desperation.
We cannot fight to crush Nazi brutality abroad and condone race riots at home. Those who fan the fires of racial clashes for the purpose of making political capital here at home are taking the first step toward Nazism (Henry Wallace)
Upon my soul rests the truth, a small creature, curled up in fear of being called a lie, a fake, and an untruthful lion roaring at unsuspecting victims. But, it is the truth nonetheless. It exists regardless of the beliefs surrounding it. It is uniform and unyielding. It is binding, and once you know it, you cannot force it back in its hiding place.
So the first train that came along with the promise of the "warm fuzzy love" (furry purring cat love), my pussy and I jumped on board and headed for oblivion. That I was objectified, used and abused in the name of God was really no matter. The misogynistic leaders convinced me that sex was love and my pussy was for service to God.
he end of 2016 invokes thoughts of death for me, not the morbid or terrifying sort that I should be afraid of, on the contrary, it invokes thoughts of natural cycle that I am a part of. I am thirty-six years old and this year I have begun to understand my own mortality
On this day with the reports from Aleppo flooding the news I am reminded of how little importance human life holds for the world’s leaders. Women, children, boys, men, young and old, weak and strong are just a collateral, disposable resource to be used for the purposes of establishing power and strong arming the opposition, winning elections and domestic approvals
If you want to form an opinion, be sure to turn the page and look at the other side. Come on, don't be afraid. A different opinion or an uncomfortable fact won't kill you. It may make you mad, but it will also make you think. Change your perspective, it is refreshing to do so. Changing perspectives of our children will lead to a change in the USA. How? We will wait and see.
I know that there is a long history of racial divide in this country, born out of fear of something different, this is being projected now to other nationalities and different religions, but the times have changed, we can and should do more and try harder and be with each other. Forget Facebook and news, heck, forget this post and go meet your neighbor. It is time to get involved, first locally in our communities, then project this when you travel, visit new places and don’t be afraid to talk to people, don’t stare at your phone at all times and ignore the person sitting next to you. Ask them who they are and tell them who you are. Change is hard and if I learned anything from these elections, change is necessary.
Across from the Lincoln Center in New York City, in an old church-like building with wooden pews, cracked plaster ceiling towering over her and the soft lighting, Amira Medunjanin performed Bosnian traditional folk songs “sevdah” for a crowd of approximately 400 people on October 29th.
Democratic Party was the party that prior to 1968 supported segregation and the war in Vietnam. They supported slavery and only a small number of Democrats in congress supported passing of the 13th amendment that abolished slavery. Roots of the Democratic Party were not as open or liberal as they seem to be in 2016.