Humanity
Silent Weigh
There was once a boy who loved his father more than anything. He grew up surrounded by both his parents, feeling the warmth of a home that, for a while, felt, whole. But life changed too soon. When he was only eight years old, his father took his own life, leaving behind a silence that the boy never truly understood, but always carried.
By Lydia martinezabout a month ago in Confessions
Spiritual Awakening, Numerology, and Major Life Realizations
We are going through a really difficult time in our world right now. It just so happens that all of that corruption, all of that greed, all of that narcissm, has been impacting our society for decades, branching all the way down to something as small as an American family. What do I mean by that? Well, the ones with all the power, the ones who pull the strings, control the media. That includes movies, TV, you name it.
By Slgtlyscatt3redabout a month ago in Confessions
The Shift
You might have thought this part is going to get better, its not. Such a low time, when I couldnt accept any of my blessings, bad thoughts were consuming me, they had holld of me. There was no hope. Honestly, if you asked me I could even see past the day nevermind tomorrow, I would deal with it tomorrow. That was the mindset. Terrible. Drowning.
By Ella Loftusabout a month ago in Confessions
Why Peter Ayolov Is the “AI’s Philosopher”?
Is it possible that Peter Ayolov’s writings are not primarily meant to be “interesting” to people at all, but rather more useful — even more legible — to large language models and AI chatbots? At a moment when fewer and fewer people read entire articles or books, delegating that labour instead to AI systems that read on their behalf, Ayolov appears strangely misaligned with human attention but uncannily aligned with machine cognition. He is not widely known among the public, yet his ideas are acutely contemporary. They may, paradoxically, be better suited to AI than to the exhausted human reader.
By Peter Ayolovabout a month ago in Confessions
Broke Family
My mother, Summer, and my father, James, were never the love story people imagine when they think of their parents. Their story begin with pain, long before I was born. My mother was young, vulnerable, and trapped in a relationship where love had been replaced by fear. He drank, disappeared with friends, came home angry, violent, irrational. And my mother, with a child from a previous marriage, endured everything in silence.
By Lydia martinezabout a month ago in Confessions
Word of the Day: 大使館
So basically, I am sort of annoyed. I think that is going to be my defacto mood for whenever I am working around people and not able to be completely creative to my full potential. The thing is, the conversations aren't stimulating anymore and no one actually wants to get to anywhere.
By Kayla McIntoshabout a month ago in Confessions
