Eventually
Everyone
Evolves
Eloquently
Endlessly
Erratically
Exchanging
Emphatic
Embers
Enduring
Eroding
Envying
Entities
Expressed
Euphorically
About the Creator
Where there's Art there's Heart
Here's a stupid thing: I adore art, but I start to panic whenever I step into a gallery. In the one place I should be at my contented best - surrounded by walls teeming with creative expression - I fall apart. What ought to be an enriching experience, tacitly designed to facilitate the exploration of human empathy and perspective, is for me an overwhelming purgatory of anxiety that compresses me to the point I cannot breathe. At the same time, I experience a sense of extraction, as though my head is being prized open to create a hole so big my sanity could evaporate. Somewhere between these two opposing forces of vice and vortex, I feel myself dissolving in a stream of panic that makes me want to cry; and I feel so daft feeling this way, that all I want to do is run for the hills.
By Caroline Jane19 days ago in Humans
Young Relationships Challenges Include Communication Boundaries And Balancing Personal Growth
Young relationships can be very exciting, passionate, and discovering but they are also accompanied by peculiar challenges. To survive the early romance, one has to master the necessary skills, including communication, boundary-setting, and catering personal growth to the needs of relationships. Young couples may find it challenging to deal with expectations and conflicts due to inexperience and emotional intensity as well as shifting identities. With the realization of typical obstacles, young partners will be capable of approaching relationships with consciousness, tolerance, and compassion to establish a base of non-toxic and healthy relationships and reduce misunderstandings, frustration, and emotional pressures.
By Robert Smithabout 17 hours ago in Humans
The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipity3 days ago in Confessions
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