She smells like coconuts as she wafts in with the breeze, my pretty disco lemonade, I bring her in close to me, wrap her in my arms and inhale like a yogi extracting the essence of life from air: lemon shampoo and coconut body oil mixed with something distinctly human, I swear if this woman breaks my heart, I may never go to the beach again.
Quicksilver Screen
I’m only human. Well, no duh. Of course there are robots living in tin houses in their uncanny valley, and wax figures without fuses, “mandles” you might call them. Bronze memorials, stolid statues, a million things that look human, including our own reflection.
Being human was the way of the world before there was the end. Everything that was visible in the world was asa direct result of human. Nature itself had been turned and twisted into the way that human wanted it to be and now, in the end, it was human that had destroyed human.
As he gazes out past the desert, he sees bodies lying around. Dead bodies. A war happened here. How could this happen? He instantly had a thought. “With a bomb or cannon or something.” He is so wise. So wise indeed.
Jack
The human race is very good. We are Homo Sapiens. We were astrolopithicus, then homo erectus, then homo habilis, then homo sapiens. Or something like that. I never know. I am a human. SO are you… I think. You could be a time travelling shape shifting lizard.
Jack
His veins ran blue, just like any other human. She traced the wiry thin branches on his arms, just beneath his pale flesh, and marveled at the goosebumps that appeared. “Do you bleed red?” she asked around the lump in her throat. He smile and ducked his head bashfully. “No…our blood is green.”
A boy sits, gazing out to sea. His eyes are a smarting, sea-salt blue watching the rise and fall of rocks waiting like patient monsters out in the shallows. The sea air sings of salt; filling him with life as his mouth gapes at the taste of his newly found freedom.
Rachel Gladstone
i am a human being. and being human, we are sinful in our nature. we are in imperfect. we rebel against God. we hate him. we despise him. we think ourselves as the centre of the universe instead of Him. Because of that, we are condemned to the fires of Hell
Jeffrey Tan
She stared at her hands, understanding their weakness and their strength. The tendons moved in an orchestrated symphony, kneading and pulling and plucking. Her fingers danced inside the dough, a ballet of domesticity.
my heart hurts and feels infinitely full. sadness and exhilaration mingle into one. I cannot help but be melancholy and uplifted. I feel so alone and ecstatic.
human. dancing, sweating. feeling. exhilarating so exalted. everything is infinite and complete and together. body is no more, there is only spirit.
I am with you , you are with me and we intermingle our atoms and souls. unconsciously absorbing each other.
Bob
human. fear, anger, pride. envy, joy, defeat- how i felt about you. holding hands at a quarter after two (am), getting drunk on cheap wine, the chill of early morning air, listening to your heart beat, solid, through your shirt. human.
I wish I was human. The only time I have only got to see a human was when my nest abducted one. She was the prettiest thing I have ever seen. Her hair was long and brown and her eyes were a deep blue. Freckles were scattered across her cheeks like when snow dusts the ground. I was not a creature she would fall in love with, but that did not stop me from falling for her.
Makayla
Human. That is who we are. We are one of the smartest creatures around. Yet we fight over silly retarded things. We should be united and work together as one. After all, there is only one race: the human race. If only we can all think this way, maybe we won’t have such silly things like war and terrorism.
Joshua
He wasn’t human. He was a something else, a different entity altogether. The way he did everything without a shred of fallacy, the way he kept his head up even in times of despair and tremendous grieving.
“Makes me wanna blow the candles out, just to see if you glow in the dark…”
kyungsoo
It’s painful to be human. I’ve thought about this many times. I’ve fantasized about being a robot, programmed and emotionless, unable to experience stimuli. I was told once by a friend that I was emotionless, I’d wonder what was this emptiness I was feeling, but how could I wonder about something I’d never have known?
Am I human? Do I bleed? Will I cry? Can I mourn? What is it that I feel? If you don’t know the answer to the last one then you have no right to judge. Tell me what is it that I am supposed to feel.
This is a funny one for my first entry. I am a human. That’s the first thing I thought when I saw that. And now I’m thinking about how humanity is changing the world–better or for worse. We are doing things that affect everyone. Is there any other species who has this type of impact on Earth? It’s interesting to think about.
The power of an ordinary human is what shapes worlds. A human can change a life. Who said to be ordinary was nothing special?
Shr
I’m only human. I breathe, eat, live, and try to play. Namuh is human spelt backwards. I think that sounds really adorable. Sometimes, I feel pretty much alien to myself, as though I don’t fit into a regular “human” mould. It used to bug me, but now I’m glad that I’m different.
Vanessa Ng
Jump off one page, step up to two, try not to trip over ya shoe, fly with grace, a 3-D origami crane as you flock over to 4, look upon revolving doors, pick a portal and glide into 5, cause you feel so alive, but it’s tricky yet, as ya pick up sticks, go over and under into 6, but then tumble up that stairway to heaven and slam right up in 7, it’ll feel so great, son it figures you’ve just transitioned to 8, but it’s going to knock you for a loop when you get down to 9, as you were feeling fine, still ya morphed into 10, got deep into that zen, so in thick, ya see it’s a nuts when you start at the 11th dimension.
am i? are you?
and what does that mean, really?
human
being human
can’t be the same for me as it is for her or him
can it?
it must be.
and somehow,
it can’t be so.
I’d like to believe that I’m only human, but the truth is, I’m not. And I mean this purely in a literal sense. Not literal in the corrupted, perverted way individuals misuse it in this day and age. I mean actually, truly, purely, I am not only human.
You see, I was reconstructed twenty years ago after a freak accident on a military base. I will not say the base’s location, or who worked there. All you have to know was that I was an honored captain, and that there were plenty of mad scientists eager to create the first android/human hybrid – because let’s face it, Robocop’s got nothing on me.
She smells like coconuts as she wafts in with the breeze, my pretty disco lemonade, I bring her in close to me, wrap her in my arms and inhale like a yogi extracting the essence of life from air: lemon shampoo and coconut body oil mixed with something distinctly human, I swear if this woman breaks my heart, I may never go to the beach again.
I’m only human. Well, no duh. Of course there are robots living in tin houses in their uncanny valley, and wax figures without fuses, “mandles” you might call them. Bronze memorials, stolid statues, a million things that look human, including our own reflection.
Being human was the way of the world before there was the end. Everything that was visible in the world was asa direct result of human. Nature itself had been turned and twisted into the way that human wanted it to be and now, in the end, it was human that had destroyed human.
As he gazes out past the desert, he sees bodies lying around. Dead bodies. A war happened here. How could this happen? He instantly had a thought. “With a bomb or cannon or something.” He is so wise. So wise indeed.
The human race is very good. We are Homo Sapiens. We were astrolopithicus, then homo erectus, then homo habilis, then homo sapiens. Or something like that. I never know. I am a human. SO are you… I think. You could be a time travelling shape shifting lizard.
His veins ran blue, just like any other human. She traced the wiry thin branches on his arms, just beneath his pale flesh, and marveled at the goosebumps that appeared. “Do you bleed red?” she asked around the lump in her throat. He smile and ducked his head bashfully. “No…our blood is green.”
A boy sits, gazing out to sea. His eyes are a smarting, sea-salt blue watching the rise and fall of rocks waiting like patient monsters out in the shallows. The sea air sings of salt; filling him with life as his mouth gapes at the taste of his newly found freedom.
i am a human being. and being human, we are sinful in our nature. we are in imperfect. we rebel against God. we hate him. we despise him. we think ourselves as the centre of the universe instead of Him. Because of that, we are condemned to the fires of Hell
She stared at her hands, understanding their weakness and their strength. The tendons moved in an orchestrated symphony, kneading and pulling and plucking. Her fingers danced inside the dough, a ballet of domesticity.
Human are dumb. Its amazing how dumb we are . We just keep flying and wasting are time in the air and eating are thoughts up and never touch ground.
my heart hurts and feels infinitely full. sadness and exhilaration mingle into one. I cannot help but be melancholy and uplifted. I feel so alone and ecstatic.
human. dancing, sweating. feeling. exhilarating so exalted. everything is infinite and complete and together. body is no more, there is only spirit.
I am with you , you are with me and we intermingle our atoms and souls. unconsciously absorbing each other.
human. fear, anger, pride. envy, joy, defeat- how i felt about you. holding hands at a quarter after two (am), getting drunk on cheap wine, the chill of early morning air, listening to your heart beat, solid, through your shirt. human.
I wish I was human. The only time I have only got to see a human was when my nest abducted one. She was the prettiest thing I have ever seen. Her hair was long and brown and her eyes were a deep blue. Freckles were scattered across her cheeks like when snow dusts the ground. I was not a creature she would fall in love with, but that did not stop me from falling for her.
Human. That is who we are. We are one of the smartest creatures around. Yet we fight over silly retarded things. We should be united and work together as one. After all, there is only one race: the human race. If only we can all think this way, maybe we won’t have such silly things like war and terrorism.
He wasn’t human. He was a something else, a different entity altogether. The way he did everything without a shred of fallacy, the way he kept his head up even in times of despair and tremendous grieving.
“Makes me wanna blow the candles out, just to see if you glow in the dark…”
It’s painful to be human. I’ve thought about this many times. I’ve fantasized about being a robot, programmed and emotionless, unable to experience stimuli. I was told once by a friend that I was emotionless, I’d wonder what was this emptiness I was feeling, but how could I wonder about something I’d never have known?
Am I human? Do I bleed? Will I cry? Can I mourn? What is it that I feel? If you don’t know the answer to the last one then you have no right to judge. Tell me what is it that I am supposed to feel.
This is a funny one for my first entry. I am a human. That’s the first thing I thought when I saw that. And now I’m thinking about how humanity is changing the world–better or for worse. We are doing things that affect everyone. Is there any other species who has this type of impact on Earth? It’s interesting to think about.
The power of an ordinary human is what shapes worlds. A human can change a life. Who said to be ordinary was nothing special?
I’m only human. I breathe, eat, live, and try to play. Namuh is human spelt backwards. I think that sounds really adorable. Sometimes, I feel pretty much alien to myself, as though I don’t fit into a regular “human” mould. It used to bug me, but now I’m glad that I’m different.
Jump off one page, step up to two, try not to trip over ya shoe, fly with grace, a 3-D origami crane as you flock over to 4, look upon revolving doors, pick a portal and glide into 5, cause you feel so alive, but it’s tricky yet, as ya pick up sticks, go over and under into 6, but then tumble up that stairway to heaven and slam right up in 7, it’ll feel so great, son it figures you’ve just transitioned to 8, but it’s going to knock you for a loop when you get down to 9, as you were feeling fine, still ya morphed into 10, got deep into that zen, so in thick, ya see it’s a nuts when you start at the 11th dimension.
am i? are you?
and what does that mean, really?
human
being human
can’t be the same for me as it is for her or him
can it?
it must be.
and somehow,
it can’t be so.
I’d like to believe that I’m only human, but the truth is, I’m not. And I mean this purely in a literal sense. Not literal in the corrupted, perverted way individuals misuse it in this day and age. I mean actually, truly, purely, I am not only human.
You see, I was reconstructed twenty years ago after a freak accident on a military base. I will not say the base’s location, or who worked there. All you have to know was that I was an honored captain, and that there were plenty of mad scientists eager to create the first android/human hybrid – because let’s face it, Robocop’s got nothing on me.