I had to make a statement once; sit with a polite policewoman who did not betray any emotion or response which is her job I suppose but it would have helped me if she’d been kinder.
I want to make one, to prove to the world and everyone that I can stand alone, make it, and live by it. No one can take it away from me, to help and improve everyone around me starting with myself. Live, laugh, and learn, and love.
Everyone makes statements. Some do it in the form of clothing or music choice. It’s important to stand up for the things you believe in and however you chose to do so should be your choice and you should not be looked down on it for anything!
definitely not a question. usually a coherent sentence carried out by someone to convince anyone that the speaker has somewhat of an idea of what they’re talking about.
I like to make bold statements… sometimes just to get cheep laughs. Its a nasty vice of mine. If Im making people laugh they aren’t learning about the real me. I like it that way.
Statement? that’s it? Alright. Here’s one. Girls are tough. Girls are flippin’ difficult. I’ve gone through multiple girls who show no interest or are already taken, and you know how that makes a guy feel? Kinda hopeless in a way. It’s rough! I’m trying to make my way through this world with some companionship and it’s starting to seem impossible. I know it’s not but still. Where are the ladies at?
Usually, people phrase it in a question. Usually, it’s preceded by a box of chocolates, or a bouquet of roses. And then follows the giggling, the sheepish shuffling, and a yes or a flat no.
But of course you’re different. You say it like it’s a fact.
With all the dignity I could muster I let what was inside of me be heard with conviction. After this day I would no longer let my thoughts and actions go unnoticed. This was my statement.
Holding yet another box of clothes, Joanne stopped short in front of her daughter’s door. She studied the red, green and white flag that hung across the threshold. “Mariel?” she called into the room. “When I said the back bedroom was yours, I didn’t actually mean that it belonged to you.” No answer came from within the room. Suddenly, a piece of paper was shoved under the door. Joanne picked it and read, “The Independent State of Mariellia’s Statement of Confederation. Article 1….”
Make a statement instead of being that stupid fuckin hipster at a party just saying shit just to say shit. I’ve heard all the stories and jokes and they’re so unrelated to daily life I forget them every time I leave. Make a statement with some heart and soul instead.
To say something. To say what you believe. What we must do when we know something is right, but have to get out opinion out. To achieve what we believe in, we make a statement to project it and make everyone know.
I make statements. You make statements. Everybody makes statements. What do we make these for? What exactly do they do. Yes, everyone deserves the right and opportunity to make statements. But sometimes, don’t statements cause more harm than good? Yes, this is a statement. What did it do?
Her clothes made a statement alright. They said, “I’m not altogther sane and you’ll be embarrassed to sit by me.” I thought I should maybe let her know some statements are best left in her grandmother’s attic.
She stood up in front of the crowd, without any thought. She sighed and started.
“Today is not for me; it’s for you. I never meant to make those mistakes, but I never wanted to do anything in the first place. The pressure racks on, and there’s nothing I can do.”
sometimes i want to make statement. i feel like i cant thought. especially in this world. i want to change it for the better. i want to go into social medicine. i want to make a statement that as an indian girl I can do it. social circumstances dont matter. i can have it all! kids too! i hope it happens. i hope to make that statment
Statement. Some people like to make a statement by what they wear, some but what they do, but most by what they say. Statement. It is a relative of Cement. I think they are cousins on the mother’s side or something. Statement. mental state.
i make one… or i hope too. i want to make a positive one. i want people to see my statement, and see it for what it is. i don’t want to make a negative one. but a statement either positive or negative is better than nothing at all.
The statement of probability is a math term. The math term is used in probability. Probability is no fun. Well, sometimes it can be fun. (: However, currently, it is not. I say this because I have to take my state exams next week. State exams are not fun at all. We do get to miss certain classes though. It gets rather annoying at times though.
A statement is something you make in order to try to get your point across to someone. What you just read was a statement. a statement about a statement, however, is also just a statement. The longer you go on talking about a statement, the deeper you dig the original word. So it is probably best to never say this word and not explain it ever again.
What I meant to say, about the state of my heart….
I didn’t realize. I didn’t understand. How much I wanted….
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made a mess of things, I’m sorry I was scared. I’m sorry I didn’t see you that Tuesday. I’m sorry you met someone else. I’m sorry I still care, about something so insignificant.
I need to make a statement. I don’t look like you. I don’t act like you. Why? Becuase I need to make a statement. I need to show all of you dumb inconsiderate assholes, what I’m truely made of. I have to show all of you that what you of think the world should be …it isn’t.Popularity is overrated. I need to make a statement by being me.
The words coming out of my mouth are not a statement. They are an exclamation, bursting from my lungs into your eardrums the pain, the memories. Trembling I can barely stand.
And send….that’s what a final statement means to me. Send. Just like we do on a computer. Final, can’t go back. Done. Send. I love making statements…sometimes they’re profound, other times….just whispering thoughts that should have stayed at a whisper. But, I will not stop making them…and….send.
When I want to make a statement, I have a tendency to stand up and raise my hands, almost like I’m preparing to ward off the oncoming attack in response to my words. I make a lot of statements at work. I hate it.
I wish I could just sit quietly for an entire day, and let other people do the talking.
I have statements. I have beliefs. I don’t know what I want to make a statement about but I want it to be something. I just want everything to mean something. I want my life to have meaning and I’m starting to believe my dreams won’t even happen. What if I don’t have a statement? what if everything just falls apart instead? I’m sixteen and I need life I need more life. I am sixteen.
statements, used to express the thoughts constantly and incessantly circulating one’s mind. they lead to ideas, which lead to innovation, experience, and eventually an entire new generation of creation. the smallest statement can evolve into the most enticing future.
How would he explain to her what had happened. It was all now crumbling and fast. All of it would become clear once she read the bank statement. It had all started again. And now he had lost it all. The gambling had never really been under control.
Statement, its a fact, but its pretty mistaken as an opinion also. Opinions sound like onion which is a statement, but if I think it looks like an onion, is an opinion.
I’d like to make statement. A statement of everything, in everything. A statement of what I like, wear, see, colors, days, times, places, smell, people, tv shows, hear, and time wasters. I want to make a statement of what I know, my religion, and my personal morals. I wish that statement will stay for a long while with anyone and everyone it comes into contact with, and I hope that statement will be the right one, because ultimately, that statement will reflect me–who I am, past, present, and future. That is a statement that I’ll probably screw up on several occasions. Nevertheless, it is a statement I know I have to make.
You are a statement, you make a statement. You want to scream it out, it is something that needs to be expressed,needs to be heard. The statetment we should make is one that will last, something we think we will always believe.
Statement. That’s what she made. Loud, proud, and beautiful. She grabbed at your attention and held it in an iron fist. There was no way to escape. You couldn’t stop looking at her. No one could. Everyone loved her. Everyone wanted to be her friend. Everyone wanted to show her around when she was new to the school. And that’s how she got control of us all….
I read about ‘statement bags’ for women. uBut they all looe same. The loudest statement can be just a whisper. All the protesters in WI thinking they are making a tatement, but how many of them can argue thier point civilly?
Everyone is so out spoken, making thier voics heard…. but it’s all just noise
I had to make a statement once; sit with a polite policewoman who did not betray any emotion or response which is her job I suppose but it would have helped me if she’d been kinder.
I want to make one, to prove to the world and everyone that I can stand alone, make it, and live by it. No one can take it away from me, to help and improve everyone around me starting with myself. Live, laugh, and learn, and love.
Everyone makes statements. Some do it in the form of clothing or music choice. It’s important to stand up for the things you believe in and however you chose to do so should be your choice and you should not be looked down on it for anything!
statement is something that you say. it can be fact or opinion, but it’s what you’re thinking
definitely not a question. usually a coherent sentence carried out by someone to convince anyone that the speaker has somewhat of an idea of what they’re talking about.
I like to make bold statements… sometimes just to get cheep laughs. Its a nasty vice of mine. If Im making people laugh they aren’t learning about the real me. I like it that way.
Statement? that’s it? Alright. Here’s one. Girls are tough. Girls are flippin’ difficult. I’ve gone through multiple girls who show no interest or are already taken, and you know how that makes a guy feel? Kinda hopeless in a way. It’s rough! I’m trying to make my way through this world with some companionship and it’s starting to seem impossible. I know it’s not but still. Where are the ladies at?
To proclaim. To make know to others. How you live, breathe, philosophize. It all makes a _____.
Usually, people phrase it in a question. Usually, it’s preceded by a box of chocolates, or a bouquet of roses. And then follows the giggling, the sheepish shuffling, and a yes or a flat no.
But of course you’re different. You say it like it’s a fact.
“I love you.”
Well, I love you too.
With all the dignity I could muster I let what was inside of me be heard with conviction. After this day I would no longer let my thoughts and actions go unnoticed. This was my statement.
Holding yet another box of clothes, Joanne stopped short in front of her daughter’s door. She studied the red, green and white flag that hung across the threshold. “Mariel?” she called into the room. “When I said the back bedroom was yours, I didn’t actually mean that it belonged to you.” No answer came from within the room. Suddenly, a piece of paper was shoved under the door. Joanne picked it and read, “The Independent State of Mariellia’s Statement of Confederation. Article 1….”
Make a statement instead of being that stupid fuckin hipster at a party just saying shit just to say shit. I’ve heard all the stories and jokes and they’re so unrelated to daily life I forget them every time I leave. Make a statement with some heart and soul instead.
To say something. To say what you believe. What we must do when we know something is right, but have to get out opinion out. To achieve what we believe in, we make a statement to project it and make everyone know.
I make statements. You make statements. Everybody makes statements. What do we make these for? What exactly do they do. Yes, everyone deserves the right and opportunity to make statements. But sometimes, don’t statements cause more harm than good? Yes, this is a statement. What did it do?
Her clothes made a statement alright. They said, “I’m not altogther sane and you’ll be embarrassed to sit by me.” I thought I should maybe let her know some statements are best left in her grandmother’s attic.
She stood up in front of the crowd, without any thought. She sighed and started.
“Today is not for me; it’s for you. I never meant to make those mistakes, but I never wanted to do anything in the first place. The pressure racks on, and there’s nothing I can do.”
sometimes i want to make statement. i feel like i cant thought. especially in this world. i want to change it for the better. i want to go into social medicine. i want to make a statement that as an indian girl I can do it. social circumstances dont matter. i can have it all! kids too! i hope it happens. i hope to make that statment
Statement. Some people like to make a statement by what they wear, some but what they do, but most by what they say. Statement. It is a relative of Cement. I think they are cousins on the mother’s side or something. Statement. mental state.
Statement.
A sentence. Sometimes bland. Ends with a period.
Solid.
Cannot be changed, cannot be yelled.
i make one… or i hope too. i want to make a positive one. i want people to see my statement, and see it for what it is. i don’t want to make a negative one. but a statement either positive or negative is better than nothing at all.
The statement of probability is a math term. The math term is used in probability. Probability is no fun. Well, sometimes it can be fun. (: However, currently, it is not. I say this because I have to take my state exams next week. State exams are not fun at all. We do get to miss certain classes though. It gets rather annoying at times though.
A statement is something you make in order to try to get your point across to someone. What you just read was a statement. a statement about a statement, however, is also just a statement. The longer you go on talking about a statement, the deeper you dig the original word. So it is probably best to never say this word and not explain it ever again.
What I meant to say, about the state of my heart….
I didn’t realize. I didn’t understand. How much I wanted….
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made a mess of things, I’m sorry I was scared. I’m sorry I didn’t see you that Tuesday. I’m sorry you met someone else. I’m sorry I still care, about something so insignificant.
Even now, I still dream about you.
I need to make a statement. I don’t look like you. I don’t act like you. Why? Becuase I need to make a statement. I need to show all of you dumb inconsiderate assholes, what I’m truely made of. I have to show all of you that what you of think the world should be …it isn’t.Popularity is overrated. I need to make a statement by being me.
Flower child, wild child,
scream and yell
your message of peace.
Bold. She walks down the halls and no pair of eyes diverges. She is tall, confident, beautiful. She is gold.
The words coming out of my mouth are not a statement. They are an exclamation, bursting from my lungs into your eardrums the pain, the memories. Trembling I can barely stand.
And send….that’s what a final statement means to me. Send. Just like we do on a computer. Final, can’t go back. Done. Send. I love making statements…sometimes they’re profound, other times….just whispering thoughts that should have stayed at a whisper. But, I will not stop making them…and….send.
When I want to make a statement, I have a tendency to stand up and raise my hands, almost like I’m preparing to ward off the oncoming attack in response to my words. I make a lot of statements at work. I hate it.
I wish I could just sit quietly for an entire day, and let other people do the talking.
I have statements. I have beliefs. I don’t know what I want to make a statement about but I want it to be something. I just want everything to mean something. I want my life to have meaning and I’m starting to believe my dreams won’t even happen. What if I don’t have a statement? what if everything just falls apart instead? I’m sixteen and I need life I need more life. I am sixteen.
statements, used to express the thoughts constantly and incessantly circulating one’s mind. they lead to ideas, which lead to innovation, experience, and eventually an entire new generation of creation. the smallest statement can evolve into the most enticing future.
How would he explain to her what had happened. It was all now crumbling and fast. All of it would become clear once she read the bank statement. It had all started again. And now he had lost it all. The gambling had never really been under control.
Statement, its a fact, but its pretty mistaken as an opinion also. Opinions sound like onion which is a statement, but if I think it looks like an onion, is an opinion.
Why do we always get defensive about opinions?
The statesmen state statements of stately proportions.
a bold bit of information. it says I’M HERE! words of wisdom and love or something that kicks you in the ass. BAM!
I’d like to make statement. A statement of everything, in everything. A statement of what I like, wear, see, colors, days, times, places, smell, people, tv shows, hear, and time wasters. I want to make a statement of what I know, my religion, and my personal morals. I wish that statement will stay for a long while with anyone and everyone it comes into contact with, and I hope that statement will be the right one, because ultimately, that statement will reflect me–who I am, past, present, and future. That is a statement that I’ll probably screw up on several occasions. Nevertheless, it is a statement I know I have to make.
there is a statement about everything; life, love, sorrow, joy, and every emotion in between.
You are a statement, you make a statement. You want to scream it out, it is something that needs to be expressed,needs to be heard. The statetment we should make is one that will last, something we think we will always believe.
Statement. That’s what she made. Loud, proud, and beautiful. She grabbed at your attention and held it in an iron fist. There was no way to escape. You couldn’t stop looking at her. No one could. Everyone loved her. Everyone wanted to be her friend. Everyone wanted to show her around when she was new to the school. And that’s how she got control of us all….
I read about ‘statement bags’ for women. uBut they all looe same. The loudest statement can be just a whisper. All the protesters in WI thinking they are making a tatement, but how many of them can argue thier point civilly?
Everyone is so out spoken, making thier voics heard…. but it’s all just noise