Human Parts explores the patchwork of the human condition through personal writing. | Twitter: @Human_Parts | To contribute, email email@example.com
A personal essay
This is such a silly question to ask, don’t you think?
By Jaime Netzer
An HPV love story
“Did she have a nice ass?” my two friends said in unison.
The Lessons of History, Now Tumbleable
Things That Changed After You Were Raped at Gunpoint on my Birthday
Growing up a self-made foster child.
By Anne Thériault
Coming to terms with depression in your twenties.
BE A STUD — Eat and breathe whatever you are involved in.
Not clawing, but forgetting.
When unlit cars would search the street’s edges for desperate hands
The ones that skimmed the sky begging for an escape
That’s when the…
English majors. Paperback-sniffing, semicolon-slinging, hairy-hearted mystics of the collegiate pantheon.
I first set foot on Jersey Shore sands at fifteen years old, toothpick-thin and mid-summer sun-kissed.
These bar chairs
those low rungs
to rest your feet.
Question: What is everything to someone, and nothing to everyone else?
He lived in half of a house.
I was three the first time I hurt someone’s feelings.
Before you can float you must believe you can float.
This new Cold War is my life.
When I was seventeen, my parents drove me from Philadelphia to Florida.
I remember the nurse’s office. I remember lying on the leather chair with a “stomach ache.”
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