A film review about the documentary Human that shows people from all over the world. While looking into their eyes, you will hear about life, love and suffering. Their stories will introduce you to other worlds. They will make you think about your own.
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April Horoscopes!
Taurus (April 20—May 20): Another year older, and yet still so much left to learn. Maybe you’d pick up a little more knowledge if you paused, took a deep breath and—wow, look at that! Someone besides you is talking. Let it happen a few times, just for fun. April Fool’s Prank: A day of silence.
March Horoscopes!
Aries (March 21—April 19): It’s your time to shine, Aries, although I don’t see how that’s different from any other month. Maybe you should do everyone a favor and be a little less . . . yourself this month. Lucky numbers: the low value, quiet ones Taurus (April 20—May 20): You’re naturally stubborn in your
February Horoscopes!
Pisces (February 19—March 20): Happy birthday, Pisces! As Jupiter oscillates in a random direction, you’ll experience surges of rage and suspicion. There’s no reason to rationalize these feelings. Channel them into a subtle passive-aggressiveness that will keep your friends on their toes. Compatible partner: Scorpio Aries (March 21—April 19): Two months into the year, and
The One with the Dancing Girls
Have you ever looked at a dancing young girl and smiled because she emitted such warmth and such joy? My two weeks at Aarti Home were spent experiencing just that. In 2014 I had the wonderful opportunity to begin my work with this organization. Aarti Home, located in the Kadapa district of Andhra Pradesh —
My Induction into the Teenage Cliche: A poetry series
A poem to the boy who owes my heart some heavy-duty patches, and soon, before it heals all crooked For awhile you were happiness A type I had never tasted before Somehow familiar – like nutmeg and cinnamon, fragrant and warm – But somehow, with laughter words a body and soul Your taste
Contradiction; On Death, Love and Family Portraits
I am writing this because last week I had to write a letter to the mother of my dead best friend. I am writing this, because it has almost been a year, and I am still trying to process life, and lack thereof, and what it means when 18 year-olds die. I got an email
BUNKER: a short story
Mila Rosenthal sat in the kitchen of her apartment a week before the first air raid of her city: Berlin. Her son, Peter, was still asleep in his room. Mila set the kettle on the stove top and walked around aimlessly, humming to herself. As the water began to boil, she watched the steam rise.