I didn’t know how to do it. I lacked innovation. I need a quick fix; something to get my juices flowing. A mad drive down a deserted road. A champagne bottle in a garden. My friends. No. My enemies.
When I think of methods, I only think of formality, a set of rules that you have to follow in order to achieve something. I don’t think life is all about form or structure. Life is more than scientific explanations, and sometimes the abstract things give more meaning to life than empirical evidence.
The methods of strangers appear strange to us. Usually that is because we don’t know how important these methods are to them. Think about it… the methods and routines that you use on a day to day basis is completely different from that of your neighbor, sister, brother etc. Don’t criticize others methods since you don’t know the whole method.
what are the wrong methods to get the guy that you like?
is stalking his facebook, re-reading his old posts
trying to find a common interest between you two, too much?
or what about ignoring him when he’s online,
trying to be seemingly uninterested when he strikes a conversation, too less?
how are you supposed to get a guy that doesn’t give you the time of day
to acknowledge your existence?
what are the right methods to have him wrapped around
your anxious little fingers??
I am walking in broad daylight. The afternoon sun has yet to begin it’s descend below the horizon, and the air is surprisingly cool for November. Even though Eric has told me that I was trained to take in every detail of every second in my life, I didn’t notice anything except where my feet are taking me.
I need answers, I need to understand my formal life. But more than anything, I need to regain the memory I have lost.
And to do that…I’ll have to go against my friends’ methods.
I’m sprinting as fast as I can, running through the city’s streets quickly, jumping over debris easily. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins as I start on a beaten road that once was called S. Memorial Drive. I stumble to a stop, breathing heavily. My wide eyes scan the fallen buildings. Some of them shops. Others diners. But there is one heap of rubble that stands out more than all the others. Maybe because it is huge. Maybe because parts of it are still standing up. Maybe because it looks as if it was once beautiful.
Or maybe because it seems familiar.
Whatever the reason, I set my destination for the ivory building.
Is there a method that no one is just telling me about? What ever happened to free will and coincidence coinciding with each other to achieve a happy medium? What ever happened to happiness being a feeling that can be shared? What the fuck happened?
Methods are awesome. If we don’t have them, we can’t follow them therefore we can’t give them away and reproduce something fantastic. Everything has a method in it. Even madness. Gotta love it that we create the methods, they don’t create us. Even though we need them, this site makes you realise that sometimes method comes second to ‘just do it!’
methods are awesome. If we don’t have them, we can’t follow them therefore we can give them away and reproduce something fantastic. Everything has a method in it. Even madness. Gotta love it that we create the methods, they don’t create us.
In sociology we use a lot of methods. You have your qualitative and quantitative which both have a lot to do with the analysing of sociological research. They play an important role in the understanding of research. The End.
Her methods were unorthodox, her face a deadly gray. She never knew what quite to say or how to spend the day. However, she was brilliant…in her own way and still I loved her for all that and that is all I’ll say. I can’t tell you how she was or she’ll melt away, but the ribbon ’round her neck, I can plainly say. It was no more than cotton thread but twixt head and shoulders lay and naught could remove the bow or she would blow away.
(This one’s a little odd guys, it rhymed in my head…?)
i couldn’t tell if i had used the method correctly. undoubtably i’d been told many times how to brainwash a fellow being into doing exactly as I wished but ryan had the absolute best method. His never failed. I had been his student for what felt like an eternity but had really on ly been a few weeks. He had taught me the method well and I was using it successfully. Hopefully soon the smallest things I wanted, would turn into things I could never imagine.
Maybe there are a lot of different methods out there that could stop the way her eyes kept overflowing with tears. Either way, the only method she knew was to try and forget, but that only made the tears flow more faster when she remembered.
There is a method to the madness. A careful recognition of cogs slowly remembering to interlock each peg, each spline; into place. While grumbling and ratcheting at first, it builds to a slow and steady rhythmic perfection.
Madness methods. When something completely irrational runs rampant through your brain until it begins to weave into something sensible that the madness only falls away in your eyes.
Halting at the door, the sides of his mouth twitched upwards in what I imagined might be amusement, though it failed to reach his eyes. Then, he left as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving with a controlling share in a poor man’s company. Looking across the gleaming ebony table, I was greeted by a look of bewilderment. Only then did I comprehend the level of agression…no…the brutality of my employer’s methods.
His methods were sound. He was completely insane. He was a wild man with eyes a fire and hair that burst forth from his head in a way that volcanoes erupt. He stabbed at his scribblings on the whiteboard with the marker as he swung round to face the crowd.
Methods are indeed practical things. But when is it we use them? Is a method truly practical when trying to write a love letter, or sing a song from the soul? No. I don’t think so, anyways. The best things in life are the ones that require no method at all; the ones where we are wild. Even in the urban jungle, it is best to let some things be free.
Well, I think the word methods mean ways of doing something. I wish I had more methods to stay in touch with people. But I just lose them, and I don’t even care. I’m heartless. And my methods are fine for me. That’s it.
My method with killing people sucks. Or so Master said. A dog, that’s what he thought I was. I needed a better method, whatever that meant. I have achieved somewhat an accomplishment. A few religious leaders and government leaders from obscure South American governments should’ve been enough to satisfy is flavor for death and control. All I know, though, was that it was enough to keep me alive. I’d have to change my methods for the special somebody one day, if she didn’t have a taste for being forced into assassination, but I didn’t feel like it would happen anytime soon. Like everything Master said I did, I was wrong.
The methods behind his madness were just as mad, but they had gotten him through quite a bit of this process, so he wasn’t going to get rid of them just because he fucked up this one time. No, he was going to keep going all the way to the top.
His methods confused me. Why go on an on like that, with no foreseeable end in sight? I still adored him; those brown puppy eyes, lab coat still on, walking around like he owned the place. He was “home”, and I was smitten.
there are various methods for doing anything. some produce positive results, others take too long or come up short. i am tired of trying failed methods. methods that have repetedly failed me. i don’t know why, when searching for answers, the same old ideas seem so un familiar. you’d think i’d think, “hey! I’ve tried that before…”
The doctor sighed heavily as he withdrew his bloodied hand from the mangled corpse, and gazed in wonder as he saw the pulsating object that would finally legitimize the method to his madness.
Methodically, the doctor sliced the abdomen of the unconscious test subject, and removed what he had been searching for, for so long. Although he knew it must have been still, it seemed to pulsate in his hands, as said to himself, “Yes…a method to my madness…”
a means to an end. way for one to reach point b. sometimes creative, other times dastardly. preparedness. hopeful for the future. things planned. a way to accomplish a goal.
there are many methods to create art. just think. just be. all get you to the same place. many paths to the same destination. do what you want, be who you want, and the important thing is to CREATE. method 1, method 2, it’s all the same, really. i mean, try one one day– walk to school through a different route. then try another one. you’ll see different trees. different people. and enjoy the method. you’ll end up at the same place, but the path is what makes it special.
ther are several methods of writing. one such method is where you just write the words that come into your head. another method is where you write a pre-thought concept and just “wing it”. i prefer the afore mentioned method.
methods are often repetitive
often they are boring
sometimes they are necessary
often they are not
but we need them
because otherwise nothing would get done
Are a madness that determines us. What we collate curate and collect how we put our life togehter. These are methods our methodology, our mantras. Its how we know who we are.
methods are the way we do things, the way that things are supposed to be done, or just the way they end up
methods are never really all that methodical it seems, at least when they’re used. Only in the reflection of reality that we each make is there a method to the madness
Die by your methods.
Live by your methods.
A method is and a method does.
We all have them.
Some methods are sinister.
And others are not.
A method is intrepid.
If a method is, it does.
There’s wasn’t much time. The Dr. and I had our method planned out, the experienment was all ready to go… but we couldn’t light it. The fucking Bunsen Burner, it was such a simple fucking thing, all it had to do was light. It wouldn’t We were running out of time. Soon it would all be over, and all because of a faulty fucking lighter.
A method is the way you do something. People may have methods about cooking, sewing, ect. But methods are great cause they make you, you! Live your life with your methods.
What methods are these, that require such actions? Are they required, or are we merely stuck in old tropes, false “truths”? Do we have choices, real choices?
I didn’t know how to do it. I lacked innovation. I need a quick fix; something to get my juices flowing. A mad drive down a deserted road. A champagne bottle in a garden. My friends. No. My enemies.
When I think of methods, I only think of formality, a set of rules that you have to follow in order to achieve something. I don’t think life is all about form or structure. Life is more than scientific explanations, and sometimes the abstract things give more meaning to life than empirical evidence.
The methods of strangers appear strange to us. Usually that is because we don’t know how important these methods are to them. Think about it… the methods and routines that you use on a day to day basis is completely different from that of your neighbor, sister, brother etc. Don’t criticize others methods since you don’t know the whole method.
what are the wrong methods to get the guy that you like?
is stalking his facebook, re-reading his old posts
trying to find a common interest between you two, too much?
or what about ignoring him when he’s online,
trying to be seemingly uninterested when he strikes a conversation, too less?
how are you supposed to get a guy that doesn’t give you the time of day
to acknowledge your existence?
what are the right methods to have him wrapped around
your anxious little fingers??
I guess you could call it a way to teach or learn. The different ways of doing something.
I am walking in broad daylight. The afternoon sun has yet to begin it’s descend below the horizon, and the air is surprisingly cool for November. Even though Eric has told me that I was trained to take in every detail of every second in my life, I didn’t notice anything except where my feet are taking me.
I need answers, I need to understand my formal life. But more than anything, I need to regain the memory I have lost.
And to do that…I’ll have to go against my friends’ methods.
I’m sprinting as fast as I can, running through the city’s streets quickly, jumping over debris easily. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins as I start on a beaten road that once was called S. Memorial Drive. I stumble to a stop, breathing heavily. My wide eyes scan the fallen buildings. Some of them shops. Others diners. But there is one heap of rubble that stands out more than all the others. Maybe because it is huge. Maybe because parts of it are still standing up. Maybe because it looks as if it was once beautiful.
Or maybe because it seems familiar.
Whatever the reason, I set my destination for the ivory building.
Is there a method that no one is just telling me about? What ever happened to free will and coincidence coinciding with each other to achieve a happy medium? What ever happened to happiness being a feeling that can be shared? What the fuck happened?
Methods are awesome. If we don’t have them, we can’t follow them therefore we can’t give them away and reproduce something fantastic. Everything has a method in it. Even madness. Gotta love it that we create the methods, they don’t create us. Even though we need them, this site makes you realise that sometimes method comes second to ‘just do it!’
methods are awesome. If we don’t have them, we can’t follow them therefore we can give them away and reproduce something fantastic. Everything has a method in it. Even madness. Gotta love it that we create the methods, they don’t create us.
His methods of torture were highly unusual. They usually envolved fun.
In sociology we use a lot of methods. You have your qualitative and quantitative which both have a lot to do with the analysing of sociological research. They play an important role in the understanding of research. The End.
love. grow up. learn. other people. listening. sing. thing. hope. fly. travel. friends. parents. universe.
Her methods were unorthodox, her face a deadly gray. She never knew what quite to say or how to spend the day. However, she was brilliant…in her own way and still I loved her for all that and that is all I’ll say. I can’t tell you how she was or she’ll melt away, but the ribbon ’round her neck, I can plainly say. It was no more than cotton thread but twixt head and shoulders lay and naught could remove the bow or she would blow away.
(This one’s a little odd guys, it rhymed in my head…?)
i couldn’t tell if i had used the method correctly. undoubtably i’d been told many times how to brainwash a fellow being into doing exactly as I wished but ryan had the absolute best method. His never failed. I had been his student for what felt like an eternity but had really on ly been a few weeks. He had taught me the method well and I was using it successfully. Hopefully soon the smallest things I wanted, would turn into things I could never imagine.
Maybe there are a lot of different methods out there that could stop the way her eyes kept overflowing with tears. Either way, the only method she knew was to try and forget, but that only made the tears flow more faster when she remembered.
There is a method to the madness. A careful recognition of cogs slowly remembering to interlock each peg, each spline; into place. While grumbling and ratcheting at first, it builds to a slow and steady rhythmic perfection.
Madness methods. When something completely irrational runs rampant through your brain until it begins to weave into something sensible that the madness only falls away in your eyes.
Halting at the door, the sides of his mouth twitched upwards in what I imagined might be amusement, though it failed to reach his eyes. Then, he left as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving with a controlling share in a poor man’s company. Looking across the gleaming ebony table, I was greeted by a look of bewilderment. Only then did I comprehend the level of agression…no…the brutality of my employer’s methods.
His methods were sound. He was completely insane. He was a wild man with eyes a fire and hair that burst forth from his head in a way that volcanoes erupt. He stabbed at his scribblings on the whiteboard with the marker as he swung round to face the crowd.
Methods are indeed practical things. But when is it we use them? Is a method truly practical when trying to write a love letter, or sing a song from the soul? No. I don’t think so, anyways. The best things in life are the ones that require no method at all; the ones where we are wild. Even in the urban jungle, it is best to let some things be free.
Well, I think the word methods mean ways of doing something. I wish I had more methods to stay in touch with people. But I just lose them, and I don’t even care. I’m heartless. And my methods are fine for me. That’s it.
My method with killing people sucks. Or so Master said. A dog, that’s what he thought I was. I needed a better method, whatever that meant. I have achieved somewhat an accomplishment. A few religious leaders and government leaders from obscure South American governments should’ve been enough to satisfy is flavor for death and control. All I know, though, was that it was enough to keep me alive. I’d have to change my methods for the special somebody one day, if she didn’t have a taste for being forced into assassination, but I didn’t feel like it would happen anytime soon. Like everything Master said I did, I was wrong.
The methods behind his madness were just as mad, but they had gotten him through quite a bit of this process, so he wasn’t going to get rid of them just because he fucked up this one time. No, he was going to keep going all the way to the top.
His methods confused me. Why go on an on like that, with no foreseeable end in sight? I still adored him; those brown puppy eyes, lab coat still on, walking around like he owned the place. He was “home”, and I was smitten.
there are various methods for doing anything. some produce positive results, others take too long or come up short. i am tired of trying failed methods. methods that have repetedly failed me. i don’t know why, when searching for answers, the same old ideas seem so un familiar. you’d think i’d think, “hey! I’ve tried that before…”
The doctor sighed heavily as he withdrew his bloodied hand from the mangled corpse, and gazed in wonder as he saw the pulsating object that would finally legitimize the method to his madness.
Methodically, the doctor sliced the abdomen of the unconscious test subject, and removed what he had been searching for, for so long. Although he knew it must have been still, it seemed to pulsate in his hands, as said to himself, “Yes…a method to my madness…”
a means to an end. way for one to reach point b. sometimes creative, other times dastardly. preparedness. hopeful for the future. things planned. a way to accomplish a goal.
there are many methods to create art. just think. just be. all get you to the same place. many paths to the same destination. do what you want, be who you want, and the important thing is to CREATE. method 1, method 2, it’s all the same, really. i mean, try one one day– walk to school through a different route. then try another one. you’ll see different trees. different people. and enjoy the method. you’ll end up at the same place, but the path is what makes it special.
ther are several methods of writing. one such method is where you just write the words that come into your head. another method is where you write a pre-thought concept and just “wing it”. i prefer the afore mentioned method.
methods of learning, reading, writing, being
what is the method of life you employ?
How do you go about your daily living…?
Method – the way you think, the way you live
A process by which you learn
Systematic way of doing something.
methods are often repetitive
often they are boring
sometimes they are necessary
often they are not
but we need them
because otherwise nothing would get done
Are a madness that determines us. What we collate curate and collect how we put our life togehter. These are methods our methodology, our mantras. Its how we know who we are.
methods are organized systems that make things easier.
methodical
a deliberation to disorder
a way that we go through life but mostly in our heads
engineer
methods are the way we do things, the way that things are supposed to be done, or just the way they end up
methods are never really all that methodical it seems, at least when they’re used. Only in the reflection of reality that we each make is there a method to the madness
Die by your methods.
Live by your methods.
A method is and a method does.
We all have them.
Some methods are sinister.
And others are not.
A method is intrepid.
If a method is, it does.
There’s wasn’t much time. The Dr. and I had our method planned out, the experienment was all ready to go… but we couldn’t light it. The fucking Bunsen Burner, it was such a simple fucking thing, all it had to do was light. It wouldn’t We were running out of time. Soon it would all be over, and all because of a faulty fucking lighter.
noun, – (meth-udz) things used to complete tasks.
A method is the way you do something. People may have methods about cooking, sewing, ect. But methods are great cause they make you, you! Live your life with your methods.
What methods are these, that require such actions? Are they required, or are we merely stuck in old tropes, false “truths”? Do we have choices, real choices?