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it’s grey, and wet…. am i writing about the word fog? or am I writing about something I read before the word fog?
I’m listening to jazz right now, and all i can focus on is writing about the word fog, how do you not think about what you are writing?
i think i’m done
I bet I can write for longer than 60 seconds. it’s done at 60 and i’m still typing.
what do you think about that?
By sandy on 06.30.2008
By Prarthana on 06.30.2008
The hazy night could have happened anywhere but this wasnt anywhere this was my town, my street, my life. To much fog is never a good thing and this night would be no different. The lights were seen far to late and the crash was far to loud, the blood was far to red, the death was far to dead. I wish I could go back and do it different, say goodbye, say I love you, see the lights, release the fog that still clouds my mind.
By Crystal on 06.30.2008
in the fog.
The fog was heavy and thick. I’ve hated it ever since I was a child. It kind of makes you feel a s though your blind. Its suffocating and frightening.
By Nwamaka on 06.30.2008
The fog comes down like some kind of horror movie – where did that image come from? Probably the horror movie “The Fog” by John Carpenter, remade again just a few years ago – naturally in a vastly inferior version. Movies often come to mind before anything else when I engage in these sorts of exercises – perhaps as an indication of how thoroughly they sit at the very front of mind.
By bob on 06.30.2008
It is gray, and ever so blinding when you have to stare at it for hours on end. When I look into the fog, I see a black dot, it is a floater in my eye. I cannot get rid of this dot, and it annoys me when I look around. How depressing it is to be fogged in. So Depressing.
By Nicholas Kelley on 06.30.2008
Gray, dense entity that smears my vision with cloudiness, wearing at my senses and causing unwanted and relentless winces.
By s. mitch on 06.30.2008
on a dreary morning in Charleston I could hear the low bellow of the fog horns floating across the harbor. The sound immediately takes my mind to a different time when the streets of Charleston were filled with the sound of horses hooves and cries from the market place. In the misty morning fog one could almost see the city come alive across the harbor from Mt. Pleasant with the spirits of Charleston past.
By Lara Byrns on 06.30.2008
It was cool, this early in the morning, and the sun had only been up a few minutes. Eventually, it would warm the sky and burn off the clouds that lay thickly all over the world around them. They drove through the greyness and she watched the way it blanketed the slight valleys below them.
By Heather Jackson on 06.30.2008
Thickly blanketing Cool greyness
Masking all but the largest features
Fog’s beauty blurring my world
The fog is thick and gloomy here in london. Another day of cold wet lungs and cigarettes. Might as well just set the house on fire but this is much more exciting. I remember as a child I would go out on foggy days and play games with the girl who lived next door.
By Amanda on 06.30.2008
a dark unseeing blob of vapor that encases and embraces, leaving a little dew on your cheek.
By Misty Evans on 06.30.2008
foggy was the summer that trees trembled with an accurate perspective of their own.
i wish i had more dreams to see far through the fog.
By some of me on 06.30.2008
Rolling in off the sea,
so bright, no dull.. smoky.
Can we see through it?
go around about it?
we can drift through,
this swirling shade of blue.
It’s darking and cold
like a basement covered with mold.
Can you find my hand to hold?
we’ll make it through this icky bog,
but enjoy our time together in this fog.
By Red Rosaleigh on 06.30.2008
it was a foggy night and the mountains were barley visible. But the fog brought the good fairies and the helped build rental cabins on the side of the mountains so all could see……for a fee.
By chris on 06.30.2008
its a cold night, and i can’t see through the fog that is laying over the street, and over my mind. i wish it would clear, but i don’t see any end in sight. i can’t stop thinking about him. i cant see anything, and the street is a blur of white and cold.
By nicole on 06.30.2008
fog covered the background and tore up the middle of the streets. Moving swiftly where speed was slow and time was the lost commodity. How fog moved before the people it witheld.
By Helen on 06.30.2008
Fog – that’s what surrounds my brain sometimes. Absolute fog. But when I manage to penetrate it – there is brilliance there. I enjoy moving through the fog to the bright sunlight. It’s like coming out of the pass on the free way and entering into the Palm Springs Valley. The bright light and brilliance are incredible.
By Trudi on 06.30.2008
The wind was dead and the heavens settled low, until a thick pea-soup fog shrouded the bay. Ships anchored helpless, even their sonar useless against the mysterious fog. It couldn’t be penetrated with the senses, radar, and the government’s infrared capabilities were rendered impotent.
“I know what it is,” simon said.
“What is it?” Carl
By John Miller on 06.30.2008
Fog surrounded the hilltop like a thick smoky blanket, ominous in nature and yet mysteriously inviting. He sped towards it, bracing himself for his last breath. He knew what he had to face, and was ready to fight until his last breath.
the monsoons are here and so is the blurriness of the never ending fog, it gets so dark morbid and sad with the whole look of rain. though its not always a bad deal, a coffee ciggi and fog is always a great deal and of course a joint later on.
By naz on 06.30.2008
It lets you hide, a sense of defense. like when its around no one can see. no one can see you, and its brilliant. To be able to hide and not be noticed amidst the chaos. Your time, space shared with everyone, yet alone
By Natasha on 06.30.2008
Driving through clouds, low enough to touch and breathe them in.
By Concetta on 06.30.2008
the fog was rolling in, and there was nothing we could do about it. humanity was destined to live in a haze of forgetfulness. people would soon forget how to write, and soon speech would follow. these were dark times, indeed. all of our hopes and dreams were focused on someone still living to turn on a light somewhere.
By chris ahrens on 06.30.2008
misty and grey. cool and gives sense of freedom. freedom in being hidden. hidden from the world. covering your indelicacies and insecurities. become the fog and become the world. a part of it all. a part of everything. and everything becomes the one. the people are a part of it all.
By sarah faup on 06.30.2008
Grey and creeping, damply wrapping itself around my face, caressing my skin, twining itself in my hair and muffling all sounds around me, making my day small and narrow and softly eerie, whitish tendrils surrounding me.
By Branwen on 06.30.2008
i love it, but not driving in it. just sitting at the beach maybe driving below it aas it settles on to the trees…above. it is sexy. imaginative. creative. and beautriful
By melissa korff on 06.30.2008
The fog is a constant reminder to me of the unknown. The father you travel and the deeper you envelope yourself in it, the more you realize hardships. Looking back you find yourself completely embraced by it; there’s no escape except to move forward.
By Camila Frey-Booth on 06.30.2008
The smoke was thick like fog. It hung over the neighborhood. We couldn’t believe that the buildings were gone. Landmarks, undeniable in our skyline. Gone. And the fog that would remain for weeks to remind us of the horror.
By tango on 06.30.2008
My mother spoke of the fog is New Orleans, rolling in from the river in the early days of 1979, the coffee creating it’s own cloud of moisture to compete with nature. I was there, but in her belly.
By Rachel J on 06.30.2008
The fog made it almost impossible to see my fiance at shore. The boat was so close to land…when
By Katrina on 06.30.2008
A light layer of water hanging above the world’s scenery. Droplets held together in the sky. Drifting softly at the knees of all.
By Kate on 06.30.2008
fog is in san francisco sofg is what i feel in my head i think fog on little cat’s feet is nice – and very full of meaning we do not have much fog in texas so i do not have much involvement with it – fog is soft and nice and sweet to some in the mornings nice to feel the moisture and feel the wet come in you and cover your eyes
By nancy on 06.30.2008
Literature uses fog as a sign of evil, haunting, foreboding. I see it as friendly clouds who bent from above to say hello.
By Rae on 06.30.2008
Fog blanketed the hills above the city of San Francisco. City lights glowed below as they sat up on Telegraph hill and talked about their plans to breakup. How about I move my stuff outa yourpl
By Lisa Marie Peaslee on 06.30.2008
Fog is like a brain veil.
By editcopy on 06.30.2008
my eyes cannot see through the blanket. the mist that envelopes me into a mystery. life becomes mere shadows, and i do not like the things I see. I am scared unable to see you. I take your hand, and led me through this.
By Mel on 06.30.2008
The fog is dense. You cannot see. But what is it blocking, exactly? What are you trying to see? Is it the fog, or are you blocking out the picture?
By Adrianna on 06.30.2008
Fog is not only something that impairs your vision physically, what about spiritually? What about mentally. There’s a reason that it’s used in some many analogies or metaphors. Fog is an amazing phenomena, and it’s perfct for describing exactly how we percieve reality sometimes.
By Bryan on 07.01.2008