It was just an object. That’s what she had to convince herself; that it wasn’t real, or important. It was a belonging, belonged to her. No, it didn’t belong, she had possession over it, but it belonged to none. Her soul for his life was the trade. And so she let it go.
Max placed the object down on the table. It glowed and pulsed and sent sparks of light flitting through the room. It shifted colours from red to green to blue.
She was it—or so he thought. The object of his dreams, the object of his affections—this was her. Her long hair flowing down her back and her smile warm like a cup of hot cocoa. The object of all his desires but she was so distant now. Far in miles and far in thoughts because she left it all. She walked away and faded from something that was so good you never thought it was reality…
their words with mass, created by us, for us, just like words. from nothing, to something. we build and build onto everything with our endless motivation as a whole.
Ich fühle mich, als währe ich nur ein Pbjekt. Nur ein Gegenstandt in unzähligen, formenden Händen, die mich zurechtrücken und -drücken, obwohl ich noch nicht ein al weiß, ob ich das überhaupt will. Manche dieser Hände kenne ich noch nicht einmal.
The object of my desire has always been you. Your hair, your smile, the way you walk. But most of all, how you make me feel like I’m the only person in the world that you want to talk to. Oh yes, since the first moment, it has been you.
It hung in mid air like a helicopter. It just stayed that way. There was no telling what this mysterious object was but it was there. My heart raced as I thought of what it could be and what it could bring. My eyes were at a constant watch as I made sure this
thing
was not going to make a move or transform. Th doctor then came back grabbed it with ease and placed it in a container. He then attached the needle and squeezed it into my blood stream. The cool gel felt surreal under my skin yet it was calming. the tension left my brain and I was sent home. Though I will never be able to truly explain what had happened I know that object could save the world. (True Story!)
people are not objects. the object of the game is to be an object. nobody is objective. even the most objective person to exist, a judge, is not perfectly objective.
The object of my affection is always an evanescent thing. Something about that which dazzled for a tine before fading back into nothingness appealed to him, made him more secure in his own insignificance
you see the glass, now you don’t. you see the cube, now you don’t. you are being blinded by my hands. now you’re not. its all because i love you, and that is right. The object is not important, you are.
an object is a thing that people can think about. There are many objects in the world, ham, cats, potatoe. Someday I want to be an object. People will be able to refer to me with nouns, and possibly describe me with adjectives. I would like that very much. Maybe I can even do things with v
I object to everything. Objects are stupid. what is an object I do not know. I can’t think I don’t want to write my paper why do I have to write a paper I am not even sure it is a paper whty whwerhwi;erhergoijt;ogisjfg.dklsgn;ldzksgnslrkdgnzsdkgnblzskdjvna;rlksgvn;alries z.kgjrdks, gr;eiosucx./ADGsjhs:DL?Skgnesdlcmdnsoitdvclhs.dybaNS:kbjS:Z>? rzskLCk
In a discussion,
another way to escape,
another way to say different,
provide another solution,
for a better decision,
object is object,
decision is decision,
it takes an ocean not to break,
the togetherness
This object is beautiful it is awesome and i know it is because i can feel it it is welcoming it is solid. i Love this object because it is the best word there is. A word that means a thing that can be picked up and used.
object.
everything is an object, you me your teacher the boy or girl you like, everything. but just because everything is an object dosent mean you should treat them like one, because they have feelings too
Objective. Objectivity. We need realness in life. We seek truth and tangibility. We are endowed with reason and yet we spend so much time contemplating the illusory. We, I, all of us, need a reality check. However, it is not as if the reality out their is cold and uninviting. It is also not as if everyone’s reality is the same. All I am saying is that reality is the beautiful exemplification of our values and personality. We fill the reality of the world with our own selves and recognition of it. We interpret and project the interpretations onto our own reality.
Is an item, could be sitting on a table, or held in your hand. Could be large or small, inanimate or moving. It wouldn’t be alive. I don’t know what else to say. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I object to scurvy, the way it sneaks in when you are low on lemons;
I object to the sunset, if it means a little mouse trying to dry his fur after and unfortunate run-in with a motion-sensitive sprinkler system;
I object to riddles that involve denatured alcohol.
Ein Objekt ist etwas, was man hin und her schubsen kann. Man kann es betrachten, es in einem Schrank oder einer Scheune aufbewahren. Man kann es anfassen. Luft ist kein Objekt, Wasser wahrscheinlich auch nicht. Wenn man Wasser allerdings gefrieren lässt und daraus einen Würfel, eine Skulptur oder eine Kugel macht, dann ist es wieder ein Objekt. Komisch.
It was a long night. He’d watched and selected and waited. The throb-throb-throb of the club hammered in his brain a dull ache. The flashing lights knotted his throat. Finally the brunette rose from the table and collected her things. He paid his tab as she hugged her friends good night and then he followed.
An object. What’s an object? Who defines things as things and feelings as feelings? What if objects ruled our lives? How would it be? Would u love, would you like would u feel? How would u feel
An object. Can it make you fall in love? With itself? Someone else? Something else? An object is really only that to me. An object. Unless it’s Harry Potter Books, ofcorse
He plays with my heart as though it is an object. His words play over in my mind. I try to forget, to move on. Every time I look into his eyes though, I doubt that he sees me as an object alone. In their chocolate depths I see loving emotion still there.
Normally I would think the object of the game was to get the ball down to the other end of the field but apparently I was completely wrong about this. “The object of the game, little sister, is domination, mental and physical. The object of the game is to shake and shiver your opponent. You’ll get it, little sister, just watch.” My brother finished his beer, reached for another and stared across the field as the ants went marching.
Objects are things everyone sees, hears, feels, etc. They are not abstract. They are real. Objects are things you can rely on to be there physically. Scientists and people can write about real objects and can study them because they are there.
an object is a solid mass which can be touched, picked up and lobbed at peoples faces for comical amusement. There are many objects in the world, tons of hundreds of thousands of them, which includes humans, toilets and bottles of Moutain Dew. I enjoy these three because I can
She didn’t even know what it was, let alone what she was supposed to do with it. She lifted it out of the cardboard box, packing peanuts following off of the object. She placed it on the table and left the room, unaware of the power she had just unleashed.
I obect towards writing about object. Or any objects.
the view that there exist abstract (that is, non-spatial, non-temporal) objects. Because abstract objects are wholly non-spatiotemporal
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA
Platonism
Play doh nism
okay
The object of my desire is a delicious chocolate bar wrapped in shiny gold paper and oozing with chocolate and caramel inside
This object, this thing
This fantastic thing you gave me
You part of universe, now mine
So mine. You’re mine
My universe
My thing
My object
It was just an object. That’s what she had to convince herself; that it wasn’t real, or important. It was a belonging, belonged to her. No, it didn’t belong, she had possession over it, but it belonged to none. Her soul for his life was the trade. And so she let it go.
like words with mass, we created all of them, piece by piece, from nothing to something. we build and build, with endless motivation as a race.
Max placed the object down on the table. It glowed and pulsed and sent sparks of light flitting through the room. It shifted colours from red to green to blue.
She was it—or so he thought. The object of his dreams, the object of his affections—this was her. Her long hair flowing down her back and her smile warm like a cup of hot cocoa. The object of all his desires but she was so distant now. Far in miles and far in thoughts because she left it all. She walked away and faded from something that was so good you never thought it was reality…
their words with mass, created by us, for us, just like words. from nothing, to something. we build and build onto everything with our endless motivation as a whole.
Ich fühle mich, als währe ich nur ein Pbjekt. Nur ein Gegenstandt in unzähligen, formenden Händen, die mich zurechtrücken und -drücken, obwohl ich noch nicht ein al weiß, ob ich das überhaupt will. Manche dieser Hände kenne ich noch nicht einmal.
The object of my desire has always been you. Your hair, your smile, the way you walk. But most of all, how you make me feel like I’m the only person in the world that you want to talk to. Oh yes, since the first moment, it has been you.
It hung in mid air like a helicopter. It just stayed that way. There was no telling what this mysterious object was but it was there. My heart raced as I thought of what it could be and what it could bring. My eyes were at a constant watch as I made sure this
thing
was not going to make a move or transform. Th doctor then came back grabbed it with ease and placed it in a container. He then attached the needle and squeezed it into my blood stream. The cool gel felt surreal under my skin yet it was calming. the tension left my brain and I was sent home. Though I will never be able to truly explain what had happened I know that object could save the world. (True Story!)
people are not objects. the object of the game is to be an object. nobody is objective. even the most objective person to exist, a judge, is not perfectly objective.
The object of my affection is always an evanescent thing. Something about that which dazzled for a tine before fading back into nothingness appealed to him, made him more secure in his own insignificance
I can see an object in the sky. I do not what kind of object is but it is looks so interesting for the majority of the people in this place
you see the glass, now you don’t. you see the cube, now you don’t. you are being blinded by my hands. now you’re not. its all because i love you, and that is right. The object is not important, you are.
an object is a thing that people can think about. There are many objects in the world, ham, cats, potatoe. Someday I want to be an object. People will be able to refer to me with nouns, and possibly describe me with adjectives. I would like that very much. Maybe I can even do things with v
I object to everything. Objects are stupid. what is an object I do not know. I can’t think I don’t want to write my paper why do I have to write a paper I am not even sure it is a paper whty whwerhwi;erhergoijt;ogisjfg.dklsgn;ldzksgnslrkdgnzsdkgnblzskdjvna;rlksgvn;alries z.kgjrdks, gr;eiosucx./ADGsjhs:DL?Skgnesdlcmdnsoitdvclhs.dybaNS:kbjS:Z>? rzskLCk
it is a thing that exists only in this world alone. A thing left behind only after all sight and feeling leaves the body.
In a discussion,
another way to escape,
another way to say different,
provide another solution,
for a better decision,
object is object,
decision is decision,
it takes an ocean not to break,
the togetherness
This object is beautiful it is awesome and i know it is because i can feel it it is welcoming it is solid. i Love this object because it is the best word there is. A word that means a thing that can be picked up and used.
object.
everything is an object, you me your teacher the boy or girl you like, everything. but just because everything is an object dosent mean you should treat them like one, because they have feelings too
Permanence. Happy. Silly. Beyond recognition. Nothingness.
something that can be held or touched or even moved if i touch it its an object everyone likes objects i love objects there coooool
already wrote about it, so, i’ll just waste some of my time objecting about this equal experience
I can’t sweat, you’re the object of my affection.
Objective. Objectivity. We need realness in life. We seek truth and tangibility. We are endowed with reason and yet we spend so much time contemplating the illusory. We, I, all of us, need a reality check. However, it is not as if the reality out their is cold and uninviting. It is also not as if everyone’s reality is the same. All I am saying is that reality is the beautiful exemplification of our values and personality. We fill the reality of the world with our own selves and recognition of it. We interpret and project the interpretations onto our own reality.
Is an item, could be sitting on a table, or held in your hand. Could be large or small, inanimate or moving. It wouldn’t be alive. I don’t know what else to say. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I object to scurvy, the way it sneaks in when you are low on lemons;
I object to the sunset, if it means a little mouse trying to dry his fur after and unfortunate run-in with a motion-sensitive sprinkler system;
I object to riddles that involve denatured alcohol.
Ein Objekt ist etwas, was man hin und her schubsen kann. Man kann es betrachten, es in einem Schrank oder einer Scheune aufbewahren. Man kann es anfassen. Luft ist kein Objekt, Wasser wahrscheinlich auch nicht. Wenn man Wasser allerdings gefrieren lässt und daraus einen Würfel, eine Skulptur oder eine Kugel macht, dann ist es wieder ein Objekt. Komisch.
the object just lay there as if he needed to pick it up. He wasnt going to of course. But it called to him. Pick me up. Pick me up. Pick me up.
It was a long night. He’d watched and selected and waited. The throb-throb-throb of the club hammered in his brain a dull ache. The flashing lights knotted his throat. Finally the brunette rose from the table and collected her things. He paid his tab as she hugged her friends good night and then he followed.
An object. What’s an object? Who defines things as things and feelings as feelings? What if objects ruled our lives? How would it be? Would u love, would you like would u feel? How would u feel
“I object!”
“This isn’t a courtroom, Mom.”
“I still object,” snapped Cynthia. “I object to all of it. Your career choice, your choice of partner, everything.”
“Okay, Mom,” muttered Alex. “May I ask why?”
“Because you are throwing out everything we’ve worked so hard to give you!” she cried. “Your education, your benefits…all gone!”
I sighed and stirred my coffee.
I do not object to many things, but I do object to violence and meanness. For some reason, meanness is especially hateful to me.
An object. Can it make you fall in love? With itself? Someone else? Something else? An object is really only that to me. An object. Unless it’s Harry Potter Books, ofcorse
He plays with my heart as though it is an object. His words play over in my mind. I try to forget, to move on. Every time I look into his eyes though, I doubt that he sees me as an object alone. In their chocolate depths I see loving emotion still there.
Normally I would think the object of the game was to get the ball down to the other end of the field but apparently I was completely wrong about this. “The object of the game, little sister, is domination, mental and physical. The object of the game is to shake and shiver your opponent. You’ll get it, little sister, just watch.” My brother finished his beer, reached for another and stared across the field as the ants went marching.
Objects are things everyone sees, hears, feels, etc. They are not abstract. They are real. Objects are things you can rely on to be there physically. Scientists and people can write about real objects and can study them because they are there.
an object is a solid mass which can be touched, picked up and lobbed at peoples faces for comical amusement. There are many objects in the world, tons of hundreds of thousands of them, which includes humans, toilets and bottles of Moutain Dew. I enjoy these three because I can
She didn’t even know what it was, let alone what she was supposed to do with it. She lifted it out of the cardboard box, packing peanuts following off of the object. She placed it on the table and left the room, unaware of the power she had just unleashed.
I obect towards writing about object. Or any objects.
the view that there exist abstract (that is, non-spatial, non-temporal) objects. Because abstract objects are wholly non-spatiotemporal
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA
Platonism
Play doh nism
okay