#feedback

So happy to have the quick reply feature finally done for #Socialhome, though only in the upcoming #Vue streams currently. Doesn't yet have image uploads or markdown buttons, those will be added later. For now there is a link to the full editor.

The upcoming Vue streams are available also on https://socialhome.network . To try them, go to preferences and set "Use new stream" on, or alternatively add ?vue=1 to any stream url (no need to register or log in). I'm already using the Vue streams all the time, so we're getting really close to finalizing the rest of the items and making them default. #Testing and #feedback welcome!

#devdiary

Jason Robinson

Hoy en el blog comentamos acerca de nuestra partida del fin de semana, considerada internamente como la primera beta playtest del proyecto #HERMESjdr, nuestro #juegoderol de superhéroes. En este diario de diseño hablamos del estado actual del juego y de aspectos a fortalecer y retocar en la primera impresión.

Por ahora se valora la posibilidad de la creación de quick-start rules para que puedan testearlos la mayor cantidad de grupos posibles y el cómo se realizaría el #feedback. Seguiremos informando.


La barba rolera

Feedback für den Schreiberling

#den #feedback #schreiberling #suddeutschezeitungbayern #unterbayern

Süddeutsche Zeitung alle Artikel

How to Give Good Employee Feedback

#asia #employee #feedback #good #mondaymorning #philippines

Business Mirror (Non Official)

hi everybody i wrote this, what do you think?

My sight has gone black, I can’t see anything, I can barely feel what my body tells me.

He laughed, the reddish beard wiggling by the rithm of his words and his grimaces.

They told me that he would have been sensible, and my life would have been finally that of a woman.

Tears became a part of my daily routine, and were so ever since, for a long time. I tought the pain would have no limit, but once used to living everyday in pain, seeing it coming from everywhere around, it became more bearable. Then, indifference took place.

I tried in so many ways to stop looking with despair at all the beautiful things that i used to know. those things: the light, the water, the soil, my toys made of wood, bought by my dad to his teenage wife, my mother, those things once talked to me, telling me about the world, and entertained me. But now everything was silent. I was alone, and there was only pain.

It was as if the world was waiting for me to take action. But I am weak. I am so weak. I do not have power over anything, or anyone’s mind, including myself. I am a slave.

The first was in the period of my 14th birthday, I couldn’t move out of bed for a month before and a month after. I remained there, alone, in my world too far away form others to be loved. I had a lot of time to think about what happened. and I kept asking myself if things would ever go back as before, if I would ever play again with my sisters and my friends.

We would go once a month at my parents’ home, and they treated him with all respects. “How is your young gem doing what you command?” they asked him all the time. At times he told them I was a bit silly, but that he would educate me in what was good. More than once he entered the house without me hearing him, coming slowly behind my back and if finding me lost in my thoughts, maybe singing, he started screaming, only because he knew he scared me by doing so. I usually responded at the first shout with another shout for surprise, and if I did he screamed a lot louder, grabbing my arms, and with all that air out of his mouth little drops of saliva would stick to my veil, and that smell disgusted me. His teeth were always encrusted with the precedent meal he had, so at times I would know if he did eat somewhere else. He was an old man, and after some time he had lost all the virility that he could ever have had.

I stayed, most of the day, inside the house, being busy only in finding myself something to do when he was inside, like cleaning or cooking if I supposed he was coming. The house was little, not very much to do inside, I just sat while he was in the garden or away, thinking that if I could find a temporal logic in his duties of the year, I could maybe find the time for me in the time for him. But he won’t let me out. For now, he said, you’re too young.

In the time when I missed my parents 3 years, one day he came I was… He took me and tore my veil away, he was sick, he was horrible. He…

when they told me it was dead I had no reaction. it was the sixth, all the same destiny. the hospital bed is where I am left, in a yellow little room. alone, the room is empty, only an electric light on the ceiling to keep me warm. there is no one else but me and the cold world inside. nothing could stop me from shaking. no one would come, no one, to prevent me from asking myself, what did I do wrong?

space becomes distant, my surroundings slowly detach from my reality, and I see what is left of me. nothing in my mind is out of the reach of such pain, and nothing can overpower it. I can’t help myself.

I wish I was never born.

#shortstory #literature #narrative #creativewriting #story #fiction #feedback #hi #borges

restemesi@diaspora.koehn.com