He ran a hand through his hair, visibly trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said evenly. “This is a frustrating experience for me as well, and the only outlet I have to vent is you.”
“Why does my situation matter so much to you?”
His eyes softened momentarily, as if in pain. “Because it is my situation also, until you find your way out. Show me that chart again.”
I plug my television into the outlet. I smile, but mostly because that means my room is finally finished. The symbolic plugging in of such a staple piece of furniture means I have succeeded in my goal to finish my room before February vacation. Thank you, outlet.
I don’t have enough outlets in my house. Then again, maybe I have too many cords. I remember sticking my finger in an open outlet as a kid and bzzzzz – weirdest feeling ever. Best feeling ever? Walking into an outlet store (ok, it’s not the best feeling at all, but it sure is nice).
Uhm, well an outlet. Haha you plug things into it? It’s for electric stuff? It could also represent an outlet on life. I suppose. Oh wait no, that’s outlook. Well this was a cruddy first word.
I love outlet stores. I am poor so its really helpful and cool to get quality things at a lower price. When he was little, my brother peed on an outlet and it really scared him. Haha. Poor baby.
When I’m stressed I sing. It’s a wonderful outlet. For that reason I like singing in a style that’s all about soul and gospel. I take my voice to its limits – I let it all out.
Today I was simply minding my own business when, out of nowhere, the power outlet caught my eye. It was such a plain thing, off white in color, with an ungodly number of plugs protruding from the poor thing.
I am an outlet store. I show people what they want be shown, I sell people the parts of me that they want, and the other parts, parts they don’t want to deal with or handle, I hide beneath. I deal with others worries, pains, strifes. And they get what they want, at no price at all. Only me.
Outlet is a place where you go and buy cool clothes for less money than the usual cost of a shopping mall. You have the ultimate sweeps and also you get the clearance rack for no money at all. I love going to outlets, it the best way to look fashonable and actually afford it!
My outlet for my sadness is running. I went on Saturday at about 10 pm and it was wonderful. I happened to see a guy steal something out of someone’s van while I was running. I kept going obviously, because I’m a little white girl. But it was good to be out there in the world, in the night.
The first thing that comes to mind when speaking of outlet is a boutique. but that is probably because i am a girl. there can be loads of outlets for shops, book stores and restaurants. And why i don’t think of an outlet to be an outlet of energy or outburst of anger or outlet as a passage; but as a corporate entity might be because of my MBA degree. what does outlet mean for you?
We went to Wrentham to buy new pots and pans. The Caphalon outlet store. My husband had convinced me that this was the way to go. No more just came from India- graduate student living for us. We were going to be aflluent, successful Americans.
Outlets… I guess a place to push away the things you need to get out of you, recharge and draw energy from. Am I an outlet for your anger if you’re always taking from me, sage-girl? Am I a place for you to take without remorse? Because the purpose of an outlet is only to serve you, sage-girl… I have nothing of my own, just words created for you to take from me.
It’s a way to get things out and let loose with no one caring. Let it go out, that’s what it means. To reduce all the frustration into something profitable, or unprofitable, depending on how you let it out. But the point is not to hold it inside, but instead to release it and get on with your life. Letting it go is a different matter!
And the librarian vincent wouldn’t have managed to survive the invasion of the businessman into his workplace to plug in his novel idea if not for the fact that the man was actually the god Ra who happened to want a library as his personal home base
He felt so much anger towards life that he needed an outlet in which to channel it. He found that outlet in a punching bag which he gave a name. That name was Renard and he was the one who made his family disappear.
I need an outlet for my creativity—besides this bit of writing. I am an artist as well, but I have not been very artistic for ages. My design work helps some, but I miss the tactile creativity of fabric art, drawing and collage. I want to do more with my fingers than type at a keyboard.
I keep trying to find a way to get this out of me. I’ve been holding it all in. And I can feel it wrenching around, destroying me from the inside. I’ve tried everything, writing, drawing, yelling. What do I do? How am I going to get this monster out of me? I need a release. I need to let go. Let it all go.
Outlet stores are pretty cool. You can get some super swanky clothes for pretty cheap prices. I have a blue hoodie from an American Apparel Outlet….it wasn’t THAT much cheaper, but worth it. It doesn’t fit anymore though. So i got a new one at a real American Apparrel.
An outlet is a place to plug an object in at. An outlet is a way out of a tough situation. People use outlets everyday and never think about what they are using or how they are using them. I use the outlet of escape when put in a place which I do not want to be.
It was hard for her to find anything in the damn house, but power should not have been one of them. Her quest for a socket led her through two bedrooms, a hall closet, and the dining room, only to discover that not a single outlet had a three-pronged hole. She glared at the walls and her computer cord and sighed. It figured.
went in an outlet bought some nice shoes everybody loved them i was so happy and went in paris and weared them and there I met Ryan Gosling and he admired my shoes and we made out i love him so much we are going to merry next month.
A chance to express oneself with any means provided. An appropriate term given the origins… an outpouring of a stream into the ocean. An expression of the gifts one has to offer from the closed experiences in ones life into the collective experiences of others.
I have an outlet for my depression, anger, insecurity, and discomfort. I sing, and I run, and I plunge into music. Faster and faster, I outrun every worry. I grow wings, and my voice is the wind that blows me onwards.
if i went ot the outlet last week, it was only because i was looking for something for emi’s 18th. I didn;t expect to find anything but you never know till you look, eh?
new life…without people of past life….its difficult…I will do my future wonderful and interesting…I will never forget about my father…He is in my heart
The outlet sparked as the plug- shorted out. The kids jumped back, their eyes wide with fright. The smallest one started crying. It was understandable. They knew they were in trouble. Their daddy hated it when they played wtih the electronics. He said they were very expensive and not toys. But they really wanted to watch their new favorite show, “The Bubble Guppies” and Steven’s tv wouldn’t work anymore since they spilled coke in it. They hadn’t told mommy or daddy about that though. That would get them into a lot of trouble.
They heard a noise coming down the hall and took off running into their rooms. Mommy wouldn’t know it was them. They could pretend it was just a messed up television. Who cared if daddy yelled at her. She’d yell back. And she wouldn’t get a spanking like they would.
The man was just an outlet for her rage, if he hadn’t been there she would have picked the hooker on the corner, with the red vinyl skirt, but he’d been slinking into the back door of Club 24 and she couldn’t help it. He’d eyed her up and down when she first pulled him away. His screams had been intoxicating after that.
The outlet leaked a yellowish, oily fluid onto the wall. Upon closer inspection, they saw that the vertical slits were just two thin lines drawn tightly shut against in the white plastic and that the little O of a mouth was working as if to speak.
I went with mother to the Bugle Boy outlet store yesterday. Her breath reeked of stale cigarettes, pepsi, and cock. As usual, she insisted on talking the entire time, going on and on about her fucked up life and how much of a sorry cunt she is.
What is an appropriate outlet for my grief, I wondered. Is it working hard? Is it curling up in a corner and being alone with my thoughts? Should I do the things he loved to do and think of him?
he kept trying to find a good outlet for his pent-up energy. Unfortunately, said energy was of a negative nature, so he hadn’t found a constructive way to get it out of his system. He had tried many things, but it felt like nothing was working.
Then he found art.
We all need an outlet. I remember standing on the corner of our street with my neighbour – she was a couple of years older than me. Without warning, she gave the loudest, highest pitched scream I have ever heard. It seemed to last for a really long time and probably scared our cat who was sleeping by the radiator!
He ran a hand through his hair, visibly trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said evenly. “This is a frustrating experience for me as well, and the only outlet I have to vent is you.”
“Why does my situation matter so much to you?”
His eyes softened momentarily, as if in pain. “Because it is my situation also, until you find your way out. Show me that chart again.”
I plug my television into the outlet. I smile, but mostly because that means my room is finally finished. The symbolic plugging in of such a staple piece of furniture means I have succeeded in my goal to finish my room before February vacation. Thank you, outlet.
I don’t have enough outlets in my house. Then again, maybe I have too many cords. I remember sticking my finger in an open outlet as a kid and bzzzzz – weirdest feeling ever. Best feeling ever? Walking into an outlet store (ok, it’s not the best feeling at all, but it sure is nice).
It looked so inviting. The two holes perfect for two small fingers. I reached, expecting the perfect cave-like homes to be welcoming and cozy.
Now my hand hurts.
Uhm, well an outlet. Haha you plug things into it? It’s for electric stuff? It could also represent an outlet on life. I suppose. Oh wait no, that’s outlook. Well this was a cruddy first word.
A reciever. A giver. A window into a world of possibilities. Unassuming and unpretentious, forgotten until it’s necessity is desperately recalled.
I love outlet stores. I am poor so its really helpful and cool to get quality things at a lower price. When he was little, my brother peed on an outlet and it really scared him. Haha. Poor baby.
When I’m stressed I sing. It’s a wonderful outlet. For that reason I like singing in a style that’s all about soul and gospel. I take my voice to its limits – I let it all out.
outlet. electricity. relief. breathing without stress. able to be you. Able to do what is in your heart. creativity.
Today I was simply minding my own business when, out of nowhere, the power outlet caught my eye. It was such a plain thing, off white in color, with an ungodly number of plugs protruding from the poor thing.
I am an outlet store. I show people what they want be shown, I sell people the parts of me that they want, and the other parts, parts they don’t want to deal with or handle, I hide beneath. I deal with others worries, pains, strifes. And they get what they want, at no price at all. Only me.
Outlet is a place where you go and buy cool clothes for less money than the usual cost of a shopping mall. You have the ultimate sweeps and also you get the clearance rack for no money at all. I love going to outlets, it the best way to look fashonable and actually afford it!
My outlet for my sadness is running. I went on Saturday at about 10 pm and it was wonderful. I happened to see a guy steal something out of someone’s van while I was running. I kept going obviously, because I’m a little white girl. But it was good to be out there in the world, in the night.
a release of energy for people who have too much energy. it is usualy a creative way to stop them from doing something derogatory its also for power.
The first thing that comes to mind when speaking of outlet is a boutique. but that is probably because i am a girl. there can be loads of outlets for shops, book stores and restaurants. And why i don’t think of an outlet to be an outlet of energy or outburst of anger or outlet as a passage; but as a corporate entity might be because of my MBA degree. what does outlet mean for you?
We went to Wrentham to buy new pots and pans. The Caphalon outlet store. My husband had convinced me that this was the way to go. No more just came from India- graduate student living for us. We were going to be aflluent, successful Americans.
Outlets… I guess a place to push away the things you need to get out of you, recharge and draw energy from. Am I an outlet for your anger if you’re always taking from me, sage-girl? Am I a place for you to take without remorse? Because the purpose of an outlet is only to serve you, sage-girl… I have nothing of my own, just words created for you to take from me.
It’s a way to get things out and let loose with no one caring. Let it go out, that’s what it means. To reduce all the frustration into something profitable, or unprofitable, depending on how you let it out. But the point is not to hold it inside, but instead to release it and get on with your life. Letting it go is a different matter!
And the librarian vincent wouldn’t have managed to survive the invasion of the businessman into his workplace to plug in his novel idea if not for the fact that the man was actually the god Ra who happened to want a library as his personal home base
He felt so much anger towards life that he needed an outlet in which to channel it. He found that outlet in a punching bag which he gave a name. That name was Renard and he was the one who made his family disappear.
I need an outlet for my creativity—besides this bit of writing. I am an artist as well, but I have not been very artistic for ages. My design work helps some, but I miss the tactile creativity of fabric art, drawing and collage. I want to do more with my fingers than type at a keyboard.
I keep trying to find a way to get this out of me. I’ve been holding it all in. And I can feel it wrenching around, destroying me from the inside. I’ve tried everything, writing, drawing, yelling. What do I do? How am I going to get this monster out of me? I need a release. I need to let go. Let it all go.
an outlet store for a lower price on merchandise
keep you children away from the electrical outlets as they are quite dangerous and deadly
Outlet stores are pretty cool. You can get some super swanky clothes for pretty cheap prices. I have a blue hoodie from an American Apparel Outlet….it wasn’t THAT much cheaper, but worth it. It doesn’t fit anymore though. So i got a new one at a real American Apparrel.
An outlet is a place to plug an object in at. An outlet is a way out of a tough situation. People use outlets everyday and never think about what they are using or how they are using them. I use the outlet of escape when put in a place which I do not want to be.
It was hard for her to find anything in the damn house, but power should not have been one of them. Her quest for a socket led her through two bedrooms, a hall closet, and the dining room, only to discover that not a single outlet had a three-pronged hole. She glared at the walls and her computer cord and sighed. It figured.
electric wall energy mall plug music clothes part of away from convenient cord
went in an outlet bought some nice shoes everybody loved them i was so happy and went in paris and weared them and there I met Ryan Gosling and he admired my shoes and we made out i love him so much we are going to merry next month.
A chance to express oneself with any means provided. An appropriate term given the origins… an outpouring of a stream into the ocean. An expression of the gifts one has to offer from the closed experiences in ones life into the collective experiences of others.
I have an outlet for my depression, anger, insecurity, and discomfort. I sing, and I run, and I plunge into music. Faster and faster, I outrun every worry. I grow wings, and my voice is the wind that blows me onwards.
if i went ot the outlet last week, it was only because i was looking for something for emi’s 18th. I didn;t expect to find anything but you never know till you look, eh?
new life…without people of past life….its difficult…I will do my future wonderful and interesting…I will never forget about my father…He is in my heart
The outlet sparked as the plug- shorted out. The kids jumped back, their eyes wide with fright. The smallest one started crying. It was understandable. They knew they were in trouble. Their daddy hated it when they played wtih the electronics. He said they were very expensive and not toys. But they really wanted to watch their new favorite show, “The Bubble Guppies” and Steven’s tv wouldn’t work anymore since they spilled coke in it. They hadn’t told mommy or daddy about that though. That would get them into a lot of trouble.
They heard a noise coming down the hall and took off running into their rooms. Mommy wouldn’t know it was them. They could pretend it was just a messed up television. Who cared if daddy yelled at her. She’d yell back. And she wouldn’t get a spanking like they would.
The man was just an outlet for her rage, if he hadn’t been there she would have picked the hooker on the corner, with the red vinyl skirt, but he’d been slinking into the back door of Club 24 and she couldn’t help it. He’d eyed her up and down when she first pulled him away. His screams had been intoxicating after that.
The outlet leaked a yellowish, oily fluid onto the wall. Upon closer inspection, they saw that the vertical slits were just two thin lines drawn tightly shut against in the white plastic and that the little O of a mouth was working as if to speak.
I went with mother to the Bugle Boy outlet store yesterday. Her breath reeked of stale cigarettes, pepsi, and cock. As usual, she insisted on talking the entire time, going on and on about her fucked up life and how much of a sorry cunt she is.
What is an appropriate outlet for my grief, I wondered. Is it working hard? Is it curling up in a corner and being alone with my thoughts? Should I do the things he loved to do and think of him?
he kept trying to find a good outlet for his pent-up energy. Unfortunately, said energy was of a negative nature, so he hadn’t found a constructive way to get it out of his system. He had tried many things, but it felt like nothing was working.
Then he found art.
We all need an outlet. I remember standing on the corner of our street with my neighbour – she was a couple of years older than me. Without warning, she gave the loudest, highest pitched scream I have ever heard. It seemed to last for a really long time and probably scared our cat who was sleeping by the radiator!
basketball pass