| This is the 568th story of Our Life Logs® | I was always a curious child. Wandering around, always wanting to know more and to be more....

Most people think of their high school graduation as a marker in life, the moment you worked for years to accomplish. It’s the moment...

| This is the 564th story of Our Life Logs® | I was born and raised in Las Vegas in the 1960s as an only child. I had a wonderful...

I woke up choking on smoke. My eyes burned from the heat. My room was filled with thick black clouds. I tried to search for my walker...

June came, and I paid off the balance from May, but I couldn’t afford that month’s rent at all. In July, I paid more off, but I was right...

There would be many days that I would come home so excited from a great day at work only to be greeted by anger, resentment, and depression.

Originally, my parents planned on filing for citizenship when they had the money. But, that’s the problem with raising four kids...

| This is the 558th story of Our Life Logs® | My name is Felicia, but people call me Foxy because my high cheekbones and dark chocolate...

I remember washing my armpits in the sink of the bathroom at work, layering on the deodorant, all while hoping nobody would notice the...

| This is the 556th story of Our Life Logs® | My name is Mark Taylor. A bit about myself: I’m 23 years old, I was born in Concord...

| This is the 555th story of Our Life Logs® | Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some clear your path. My path began 40 years ago....

Day 2: November 19, 2020 We checked into the emergency room at our local hospital. They ran all kinds of tests to make sure her oxygen...

As I watched my son get dirt on his clothes and static from the slide in his hair, I realized...

| This is the 552nd story of Our Life Logs® | As people, we like to believe that there’s something called “normalcy,” normalcy referring...

| This is the 549th story of Our Life Logs® | In 2007, I was born into a family that had an unspoken creed, and that was to follow your...

That was it. I threw the dish I was holding right into the TV. And then another. Another. I threw every dish at that game until the sink was

With a straight face my mother replied, “It would have been better if you had let me die.”

And for a month, my heart was as empty as my home. I locked myself in my room and stared at the wall, wondering if, within the details

| This is the 545th story of Our Life Logs® | Writer’s note: A very special “thank you!” to Shamsa Alsuwaidi for her invaluable help in...

| This is the 544th story of Our Life Logs® | I don’t know if my story even matters, one of an illiterate woman from the slums of...