listening is an important part of any relationship…..but lucky for me im not in a relationship. its a good thing too because i am truly terrible at trying to comprehend a persons jumbled thoughts and not chime in with my own.
I’m listening, she breathed, underneath the duvet, in their world of white. I’m listening. Her palm smoothed over his brow, trembling and pale. Talk to me, she whispers, voice lost in the static between them.
I am listening to the silence of others. Listening to the problems of others. Do I care? No, but no one stops to think that about whether I really want to listen or if they just need to let themselves go. I can listen, I’m always listening but always choosing whether or not I want to acknowledge what they say. I’m not really sure I want to but life goes on.
Hearing. Understanding. This is listening. Sound flows to your ears. No. You pull sound into your ears. You hold it there. You crunch it and mush it around until the particles and textures of whatever you’re listening to begin to drip into your brain, like a slowly dripping pot of coffee.
Listening to the waves, I clutch my knees to my chest. The salty spray stings my cheeks as I sit on the cliff towering above the ocean. The sound beckons me. It pulls me in. My chest rises up and down. I reach my hand out to the sky, but there is nothing to hold. Only the humid air that lingers around me. I stand and feel the rock below. It is wet and cold. I look to the water that quivers in the distance. Jump.
I listen to my girlfriend when she talks despite the fact that she is always talking about her job. She never listens to me–or at least I rarely find something I have told her is remembered. This includes my constant requests for her to remove her clip clop shoes when she is walking on our wood floors. It’s going to be the death of me.
Listening to the heater blow warm air through my place. The snow storm is coming and it doesn’t care. The birds take cover from the chill that shouldn’t be. When will summer show her warm inviting face?
When I wake up, I listen to the early morning birds chirping
During the day, I listen to the dogs barking all day long
At night, I listen to the cicadas chirping with each other
Sitting there, losing myself in the stillness, listening to nothing besides the gentle sounds of nature, I found peace. It was only for a moment, a brief flicker of perfection in an eternally imperfect world but for a single moment my shoulders weren’t weighed down by the cursed responsibility that ran rampant in my blood. For one blessed moment, I didn’t miss her.
And goddess, it was wonderful.
Listening is important to me because I feel as though it helps me learn about the world and step by step I come to terms with the reality surrounding me. Talking is important too though, because I feel like when I am expressing my thoughts and opinions on matters I learn more about myself as well. And essentially, I think i create my own reality thorough my thoughts, so listening only enhances it.
I throw my hands up above my head in exasperation. I look up to the Lord above. And scream. With everything I’ve got inside me.
The shrill sound frightens even me at first.
But I can’t help it.
Someone is always listening. There is always something that I cannot say.
But not out here. Here, it’s just me and Him. But He knows it all anyway.
When I run out of breath, I collect myself. And start the long walk back home.
Sparrow frowned, but only for the second before he turned his doofy smile on her. Then she made sure to smile back.
She tried not to doubt him. She tried not to believe what everyone said, tried to think she was smarter than that, that she would know if she was being taken for a fool. But with each passing day she became less sure.
“I’m listening to you. The sound of your type. So loud and free, like a bird soaring high above a canyon filled with rotting carcasses. Listening to the air and the wind and the breeze, wheezing and breaking through the leathery boundaries within.” The pile sat high. High above human perception. So high that the heavens could listen too. And they did not approve.
I hear noises all day. Some of them i don’t listen to, but others I pay close attention. Is someone talking to me or are they talking about me, Am i even important? did that bird just chirp because of me, or is he lonely. Maybe he just wanted to be heard. It’s hard to listen and be heard. You have to pick one or the other.
Listening to shiney glistening promises I speak but don’t keep. You nod without a peep and keep an understanding smile. I never meant to beguile you but I fear I’m prematurely senile, vile acts are born of kind intentions.
listening is the best thing anyone could ever do for anyone else. Listening requires skill, as well as any other talent. Listening requires patience. Listening is the key for being someone’s best friend. Just listen.
“I’m listening,” I grumbled, as he poked my side again. “I’m just sleepy.”
He laughed, a small chuckle, “You’re sleepy? From…sleeping in until ten and being late to this meeting?”
I was up last night, way too late, but I didn’t tell him that. I just poked him back.
a women once listened to me
she saved my life by hearing me speak
she didnt ever judge me
she gave me sympathy
and words of advice
and when i listened to her
my life came far
im listening to all that is happening around me, as much as i can. as much as i’ve learned to hear so far. but i listen with my eyes first. they always tell the truth if you learn how to read it..
listening is a key skill that one must have in order to communicate with other people comunication is key to being able to interact with each other to get stuff done.
sometimes when people dont listen and that sucks
I’m listening to the clicking sound of the controller of my boyfriend’s shiny, new Playstation 3. Well, not technically new. He bought it second-hand. But he’s in love with it. Which means I’ve been sat for seven hours watching his newfound love affair while simultaneously dying of boredom.
She doesn’t have any ears
And I wish she could learn to listen.
One of my greatest fears:
She doesn’t have any ears
And all my silver tears,
My eyes will start to glisten,
She doesn’t have any ears
And I know she’ll never listen.
Crouched, I can hear you yelling at the man at the door. He is yelling right back. Where’s his money? I saw you spend it last night when your boyfriend came by. You were angry. Now you’re saying I took it, and he’s swearing he’ll shoot me.
I’m currently listen to J Tillman.
The soft sounds of his guitar and gentle voice are making this snowy really quite pleasant. I want to use these sounds as the basis for a short play.
listening is a hard thing to do sometimes. you just sit there and take it all in, when in reality all you can think about is what you are going to say next. what are you going to say next? do you even listen to what you tell yourself? next time you’re thinking of what you’re going to do rather than listen, just remember that you have to listen to yourself as much as you listen to anyone.
I was listening to the rustle of the wind as it passed by my open window, oh how i longed to feel it running through my hair, making me feel alive again for the fist time in weeks.
Listening is a skill that is hard to come by. As we all sweat underneath the heat of our own personal spotlight, it is difficult to see past it’s blinding light. Squinting out into the world we have trouble comprehending that anything outside of our scope can be relative or important to existence.
listening is an important part of any relationship…..but lucky for me im not in a relationship. its a good thing too because i am truly terrible at trying to comprehend a persons jumbled thoughts and not chime in with my own.
I’m listening, she breathed, underneath the duvet, in their world of white. I’m listening. Her palm smoothed over his brow, trembling and pale. Talk to me, she whispers, voice lost in the static between them.
listening is the best way to learn. I like listening, It is fun and imaginative. I like it. Listening is fun.
I am listening to the silence of others. Listening to the problems of others. Do I care? No, but no one stops to think that about whether I really want to listen or if they just need to let themselves go. I can listen, I’m always listening but always choosing whether or not I want to acknowledge what they say. I’m not really sure I want to but life goes on.
Hearing. Understanding. This is listening. Sound flows to your ears. No. You pull sound into your ears. You hold it there. You crunch it and mush it around until the particles and textures of whatever you’re listening to begin to drip into your brain, like a slowly dripping pot of coffee.
Listening to the waves, I clutch my knees to my chest. The salty spray stings my cheeks as I sit on the cliff towering above the ocean. The sound beckons me. It pulls me in. My chest rises up and down. I reach my hand out to the sky, but there is nothing to hold. Only the humid air that lingers around me. I stand and feel the rock below. It is wet and cold. I look to the water that quivers in the distance. Jump.
I listen to my girlfriend when she talks despite the fact that she is always talking about her job. She never listens to me–or at least I rarely find something I have told her is remembered. This includes my constant requests for her to remove her clip clop shoes when she is walking on our wood floors. It’s going to be the death of me.
Listening to the heater blow warm air through my place. The snow storm is coming and it doesn’t care. The birds take cover from the chill that shouldn’t be. When will summer show her warm inviting face?
When I wake up, I listen to the early morning birds chirping
During the day, I listen to the dogs barking all day long
At night, I listen to the cicadas chirping with each other
Hey any1 named teeda listening
Sitting there, losing myself in the stillness, listening to nothing besides the gentle sounds of nature, I found peace. It was only for a moment, a brief flicker of perfection in an eternally imperfect world but for a single moment my shoulders weren’t weighed down by the cursed responsibility that ran rampant in my blood. For one blessed moment, I didn’t miss her.
And goddess, it was wonderful.
Listening is important to me because I feel as though it helps me learn about the world and step by step I come to terms with the reality surrounding me. Talking is important too though, because I feel like when I am expressing my thoughts and opinions on matters I learn more about myself as well. And essentially, I think i create my own reality thorough my thoughts, so listening only enhances it.
Giggle. Children playing in the room next door.
I am listening.
Hum. Monday morning traffic outside the window.
I am listening.
Buzz. Overworked hotel air conditioner in the lounge.
I am listening.
Tip tap tip tap of my hands on the keyboard.
I am listening.
I throw my hands up above my head in exasperation. I look up to the Lord above. And scream. With everything I’ve got inside me.
The shrill sound frightens even me at first.
But I can’t help it.
Someone is always listening. There is always something that I cannot say.
But not out here. Here, it’s just me and Him. But He knows it all anyway.
When I run out of breath, I collect myself. And start the long walk back home.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Hm? Yeah, yeah…”
Sparrow frowned, but only for the second before he turned his doofy smile on her. Then she made sure to smile back.
She tried not to doubt him. She tried not to believe what everyone said, tried to think she was smarter than that, that she would know if she was being taken for a fool. But with each passing day she became less sure.
Hi if your listening get minecraft.
“I’m listening to you. The sound of your type. So loud and free, like a bird soaring high above a canyon filled with rotting carcasses. Listening to the air and the wind and the breeze, wheezing and breaking through the leathery boundaries within.” The pile sat high. High above human perception. So high that the heavens could listen too. And they did not approve.
I hear noises all day. Some of them i don’t listen to, but others I pay close attention. Is someone talking to me or are they talking about me, Am i even important? did that bird just chirp because of me, or is he lonely. Maybe he just wanted to be heard. It’s hard to listen and be heard. You have to pick one or the other.
I am listening. ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? We should all listen more then we talk. We all talk to much.
If your listening die or face my wrath (minecraft man mines diamond but he will never have enough to get him through a series). Minecraft quote.
Listening to shiney glistening promises I speak but don’t keep. You nod without a peep and keep an understanding smile. I never meant to beguile you but I fear I’m prematurely senile, vile acts are born of kind intentions.
Hi listening
Sean
listening is the best thing anyone could ever do for anyone else. Listening requires skill, as well as any other talent. Listening requires patience. Listening is the key for being someone’s best friend. Just listen.
“I’m listening,” I grumbled, as he poked my side again. “I’m just sleepy.”
He laughed, a small chuckle, “You’re sleepy? From…sleeping in until ten and being late to this meeting?”
I was up last night, way too late, but I didn’t tell him that. I just poked him back.
a women once listened to me
she saved my life by hearing me speak
she didnt ever judge me
she gave me sympathy
and words of advice
and when i listened to her
my life came far
im listening to all that is happening around me, as much as i can. as much as i’ve learned to hear so far. but i listen with my eyes first. they always tell the truth if you learn how to read it..
listening is a key skill that one must have in order to communicate with other people comunication is key to being able to interact with each other to get stuff done.
sometimes when people dont listen and that sucks
I’m listening to the clicking sound of the controller of my boyfriend’s shiny, new Playstation 3. Well, not technically new. He bought it second-hand. But he’s in love with it. Which means I’ve been sat for seven hours watching his newfound love affair while simultaneously dying of boredom.
listen to you hoping that one day you’ll hear me. See me for who I am so, I wait and listen because you are all I want and I want to be what you need.
She doesn’t have any ears
And I wish she could learn to listen.
One of my greatest fears:
She doesn’t have any ears
And all my silver tears,
My eyes will start to glisten,
She doesn’t have any ears
And I know she’ll never listen.
Crouched, I can hear you yelling at the man at the door. He is yelling right back. Where’s his money? I saw you spend it last night when your boyfriend came by. You were angry. Now you’re saying I took it, and he’s swearing he’ll shoot me.
I’m currently listen to J Tillman.
The soft sounds of his guitar and gentle voice are making this snowy really quite pleasant. I want to use these sounds as the basis for a short play.
Sometimes, I wish people would just listen. And be there. Not judge, or pass on their own advice, but just listen. Sometimes, that’s all I want.
Listening seem to be a lost art these days. It’s not just hearing, but truly listening. To Another. To Nature. To Silence. To Yourself.
I listened to the door. It was quiet too quiet I thought. After a while I gave up listening.
The End
listening is a hard thing to do sometimes. you just sit there and take it all in, when in reality all you can think about is what you are going to say next. what are you going to say next? do you even listen to what you tell yourself? next time you’re thinking of what you’re going to do rather than listen, just remember that you have to listen to yourself as much as you listen to anyone.
I was listening to the rustle of the wind as it passed by my open window, oh how i longed to feel it running through my hair, making me feel alive again for the fist time in weeks.
Two lost children stare at roses. Thinking nothing of their briars. Syncopated heartbeats skittering. Into each other, into silence.
Listening is a skill that is hard to come by. As we all sweat underneath the heat of our own personal spotlight, it is difficult to see past it’s blinding light. Squinting out into the world we have trouble comprehending that anything outside of our scope can be relative or important to existence.
One forgotten truth at a time. Theres a body left listening. Hearing false whispers. Blinking empty and decayed.