Automatic is a really really really really cool word and today 25/10/11 I will be talking about the word automatic and what is about and give you people of the world an example of what automatic is hey look at this my time has run out bad luck maybe tomorrow
I love automatic or though I don’t know what it really is. I know that it’s a type of car automatic and manual. I think it means something. That does it does one it’s own. I know that auto in automatic is in autobots for transformers.
ArLund the times of the 1990 and the 1980s you had to used things with ur bear hands, blood and sweat, heavy metal, but now there are things that are automatic, THEESE things help you in everyday life, like dishwashers, I would really like a dishwasher, but my parents want me to do something called, “work”, so I have to hand wash them…
Automatic is pretty cool. Not really, in some ways it is, and in others it isn’t. Like cars, people drive really badly, but if you drive a manual, most people are even worse! That isn’t good because bad drivers should learn to drive well. Hee hee!!!
Automatic is when something does something automatically, without you making it. You can have an automatic car, and often get to choose automatic or manual in driving games,
Auto matic you dont have to do anything and tin does it for u all that u have to do is watch it lol this ipad is automatic wwwwwwwooooooooooppppppp automatic the first time I saw something automatic was in Spongebob
Automatic, that means when something does something without anyone having to start it.
For an example, when ever you get an email it comes up automatically.
Automatic
Their are a lot of automatic things in our world, like automatic cars, automatic tools and lots of other helpfully things.
I like to use automatic things because I’m a big last ass.:)
he swiped, tapped, dragged, scaled. there were a million things he could do, and a million things he could do without doing them. he looked up, and in the sky (the color of a raw fish, in trefalgar) he could see the harpies doing their erratic dance. he sighed. the signal had died again, and when he pressed “reconnect,” nothing happened.
systematic hydronic funky fresh produce why am i thinking of produce and like hip hop i miss dance class i wish i was going to gfsopa right now instead of rocky horror i don’t know what this thing is going to do with what i write when i’m done with this but it automatic…i guess.
I can’t even think about doing something automatically because of the time it takes me to come up with an idea, even just for this when there’s really no pressure at all. I want to be able to write automatically, but it usually takes me at least…well, years to come up with something I think is even worth typing out and I guess that’s a by-product of having written in and wasted so much paper in notebooks. If I’m writing something, I want it to be something permanent and that I’m proud of writing, even if it’s just something I can highlight and delete and start over with, that simply.
George didn’t even think before he did it. Slipped the pill in his mouth, drank the water. It was what he had done since youth. What was the pill? A placebo? He didn’t know, but he didn’t care to find out. He didn’t even question it any more.
Sean isn’t trying. It’s automatic. He opens his eyes and there are people there. People who are long forgotten by the world and well…the living. It’s so cheesy. His friends streamline episodes of Medium and Ghost Whisperer like it can all be wrapped up in an hour’s time. It isn’t that simple. Sean’s been carrying these ghosts for years.
It was automatic. The response. Feeling neglected, forgotten, invisible, last minute. I am too old for the childish games of being 16 again. It wasnt a lot of fun then. It hardly plays now. Automatic. May the new automatic be love. Cause …. I love me.
it is something that I cant help. I don’t understand why I do the things that I hate or the things that I love. Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m in control of my own life, everything happens around me and I just sit there and try not to drown in the silence. Or the noise. It’s all I am.
I automatically thought of my first love. Where was he? Did he miss me? How would my life be? Then I looked at the man sitting next me and realized I didn’t care about the first love, I was with the love of my life and nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter if “first Love” was a doctor, a lawyer, a senator, he would never be the man that was next me, loving me for who I was.
It was so abrupt. She just leaned over and kissed him and she wrapped her arms around his neck trying to pull him closer and his automatic response was to kiss back. “What are you doing?!” That voice inside of her head screamed, but she clamped the thought down even though she knew that what she was doing was completely, and utterly wrong.
That’s the instruction on the page preceding this one. “Don’t think, just write.” They want my writers’ tools, my sensory reflexes, to kick in, produce some fantastic piece of art, one that leaves my readers holding their hearts, tissues poking out of back pockets like bicycle spokes. But it can’t be automatic like this – it needs though, deliberation. It needs a soul.
The sound was an automatic sound. Mechanic, rhythmic, unfaltering. The sound was getting closer, too, closing in on the pair. Where was it coming from? They searched frantically.
Most of the time I feel as though I’m just going through the motions, almost robotic in a sense. I have no explanation for this, just a desire to break free from these bounds… I cant stand how much I feel the desire to be more than what I am.
Not manual, it’s the best way to drive a car. It’s also a response in which you just do something. Automatic is probably the best word to describe anything. It’s just a n automatic response, an automatic reaction, automatic is a great descriptor and I wish I could use it more. I really like it.
This is an automated response. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred pounds. Independent thoughts are neither valued, nor necessary. You must not think for yourself. Independent thought will lead to colour. Colour is blinding. Do as we say in order to stay safe.
this is the third time i’ve been given this word. Are there no others. I quite enjoyed the concept at first, but since there don’t seem to be any other words available, i’m finding this task rather frustrating. this is the first time i have tried the task without th
To do something without being prompted- instinctive, in a way, the mechanisms of our limbs and bones and flesh, our sinew and veins moving in smooth harmony, action startling and smooth as breathing, as if we’d always known how.
Each morning they started the same, she grumbled and turned off the alarm, he waddled toward the restroom, grunting a good morning. Some days, as she turned toward the clock, she wondered when this became so automatic, but most days she just continued grumbling.
its automatic the way i react to you. it isn’t hard or difficult for me to love you the way i do. i just react with you and fit with you. we are one and it is clear that you were meant for me and me you. I cannot imagine how my life might have turned out had i not met you on that fated day. love isn’t voluntary…its automatic <3
it wasn’t dead. yet. i stroked its little wings, so breathless and fluttery under my fingertips and thought how automatic the structure of this life is. how we’re born and then we rejoice for a thousand little moments and then we die.
Automatic is a really really really really cool word and today 25/10/11 I will be talking about the word automatic and what is about and give you people of the world an example of what automatic is hey look at this my time has run out bad luck maybe tomorrow
What comes naturally. Anything can be programmed to be automatic, but comes with a price to pay. Some things are better left just the way they are.
I love automatic or though I don’t know what it really is. I know that it’s a type of car automatic and manual. I think it means something. That does it does one it’s own. I know that auto in automatic is in autobots for transformers.
ArLund the times of the 1990 and the 1980s you had to used things with ur bear hands, blood and sweat, heavy metal, but now there are things that are automatic, THEESE things help you in everyday life, like dishwashers, I would really like a dishwasher, but my parents want me to do something called, “work”, so I have to hand wash them…
So fun :/..
Automatic is pretty cool. Not really, in some ways it is, and in others it isn’t. Like cars, people drive really badly, but if you drive a manual, most people are even worse! That isn’t good because bad drivers should learn to drive well. Hee hee!!!
Automatic is on some car and people have automatic things all over the world builders use automatic thing to make your houses
Auto like manual and auto woo I like to drve auto when I get older ;( screw u reality
-/
Cars
Auto the name
Learn how to drive on an automatic for you r drivers license
Uuuuuummmmmm I dont know what else to say so bye all! :D
Automatic things can be good like cars. It is also good to have things you do every day automatic
Automatic is when something does something automatically, without you making it. You can have an automatic car, and often get to choose automatic or manual in driving games,
Auto matic you dont have to do anything and tin does it for u all that u have to do is watch it lol this ipad is automatic wwwwwwwooooooooooppppppp automatic the first time I saw something automatic was in Spongebob
Automatic, that means when something does something without anyone having to start it.
For an example, when ever you get an email it comes up automatically.
Automatic is a household word that is used everywhere and without it, we would be lost. Hi there, hey Nick Aprile and Bailey Meyer!!!
everything these days are automatic.
Whether it comes to cars automatic.
Auto Pilot.
everything in the world autoawesome!
Automatic
Their are a lot of automatic things in our world, like automatic cars, automatic tools and lots of other helpfully things.
I like to use automatic things because I’m a big last ass.:)
There are automatic everything, automatic cars, automatic meanings, somethings happen automatically, some don’t. It’s just the way the world runs….
he swiped, tapped, dragged, scaled. there were a million things he could do, and a million things he could do without doing them. he looked up, and in the sky (the color of a raw fish, in trefalgar) he could see the harpies doing their erratic dance. he sighed. the signal had died again, and when he pressed “reconnect,” nothing happened.
pressure accumulates and exhausts
on and off again
with or without my approval.
waxes and wanes
falls without warning
starts again.
systematic hydronic funky fresh produce why am i thinking of produce and like hip hop i miss dance class i wish i was going to gfsopa right now instead of rocky horror i don’t know what this thing is going to do with what i write when i’m done with this but it automatic…i guess.
I can’t even think about doing something automatically because of the time it takes me to come up with an idea, even just for this when there’s really no pressure at all. I want to be able to write automatically, but it usually takes me at least…well, years to come up with something I think is even worth typing out and I guess that’s a by-product of having written in and wasted so much paper in notebooks. If I’m writing something, I want it to be something permanent and that I’m proud of writing, even if it’s just something I can highlight and delete and start over with, that simply.
George didn’t even think before he did it. Slipped the pill in his mouth, drank the water. It was what he had done since youth. What was the pill? A placebo? He didn’t know, but he didn’t care to find out. He didn’t even question it any more.
Sean isn’t trying. It’s automatic. He opens his eyes and there are people there. People who are long forgotten by the world and well…the living. It’s so cheesy. His friends streamline episodes of Medium and Ghost Whisperer like it can all be wrapped up in an hour’s time. It isn’t that simple. Sean’s been carrying these ghosts for years.
It was automatic. The response. Feeling neglected, forgotten, invisible, last minute. I am too old for the childish games of being 16 again. It wasnt a lot of fun then. It hardly plays now. Automatic. May the new automatic be love. Cause …. I love me.
Automatic, supersonic, hypnotic, funky-fresh~
it starts and stops without my knowledge
sometimes i watch it
but usually i’m not even home.
its automatic.
it is something that I cant help. I don’t understand why I do the things that I hate or the things that I love. Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m in control of my own life, everything happens around me and I just sit there and try not to drown in the silence. Or the noise. It’s all I am.
I automatically thought of my first love. Where was he? Did he miss me? How would my life be? Then I looked at the man sitting next me and realized I didn’t care about the first love, I was with the love of my life and nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter if “first Love” was a doctor, a lawyer, a senator, he would never be the man that was next me, loving me for who I was.
Step.
The movement was simple, automatic. Peering around the corner, he couldn’t see them, though he knew they were coming.
This is a hard word. It means without you. Like, alone. Must be a lonely word. Doing things without anyone else. I’m automatic sometimes.
It was so abrupt. She just leaned over and kissed him and she wrapped her arms around his neck trying to pull him closer and his automatic response was to kiss back. “What are you doing?!” That voice inside of her head screamed, but she clamped the thought down even though she knew that what she was doing was completely, and utterly wrong.
That’s the instruction on the page preceding this one. “Don’t think, just write.” They want my writers’ tools, my sensory reflexes, to kick in, produce some fantastic piece of art, one that leaves my readers holding their hearts, tissues poking out of back pockets like bicycle spokes. But it can’t be automatic like this – it needs though, deliberation. It needs a soul.
The sound was an automatic sound. Mechanic, rhythmic, unfaltering. The sound was getting closer, too, closing in on the pair. Where was it coming from? They searched frantically.
Most of the time I feel as though I’m just going through the motions, almost robotic in a sense. I have no explanation for this, just a desire to break free from these bounds… I cant stand how much I feel the desire to be more than what I am.
Not manual, it’s the best way to drive a car. It’s also a response in which you just do something. Automatic is probably the best word to describe anything. It’s just a n automatic response, an automatic reaction, automatic is a great descriptor and I wish I could use it more. I really like it.
This is an automated response. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred pounds. Independent thoughts are neither valued, nor necessary. You must not think for yourself. Independent thought will lead to colour. Colour is blinding. Do as we say in order to stay safe.
this is the third time i’ve been given this word. Are there no others. I quite enjoyed the concept at first, but since there don’t seem to be any other words available, i’m finding this task rather frustrating. this is the first time i have tried the task without th
To do something without being prompted- instinctive, in a way, the mechanisms of our limbs and bones and flesh, our sinew and veins moving in smooth harmony, action startling and smooth as breathing, as if we’d always known how.
Each morning they started the same, she grumbled and turned off the alarm, he waddled toward the restroom, grunting a good morning. Some days, as she turned toward the clock, she wondered when this became so automatic, but most days she just continued grumbling.
its automatic the way i react to you. it isn’t hard or difficult for me to love you the way i do. i just react with you and fit with you. we are one and it is clear that you were meant for me and me you. I cannot imagine how my life might have turned out had i not met you on that fated day. love isn’t voluntary…its automatic <3
it wasn’t dead. yet. i stroked its little wings, so breathless and fluttery under my fingertips and thought how automatic the structure of this life is. how we’re born and then we rejoice for a thousand little moments and then we die.