The little guys’ eyes darted left. right. left again. right and then up. Up, left, right. down. left right. He was dizzy. His eyes haven’t worked this hard. EVER. If he was to know himself he had better study his surroundings.
Study is such a gross word. I’m tired of studying. I’ve spent my entire life in school. If the world really does end in 2012 then I’ll be so very very sad. Sure, studying and attaining an education is important, but there’s so much more to the world. There’s so much to do and so much to see. So yes, go ahead and study. But make sure you do other things too.
I should study political science but i think that since a couple of months i shiftet to pop culture study … Did you know that Britney Spears worked with the one favorite Björk’s producer, Guy Sigsworth, on her fourth record ‘In The Zone” in 2003 ?
Study hard and you’ll go far. So far you won’t even see the mound you were studying under. You will have crossed so many horizons. Or you will, if you study hard. Go now. Study.
I made a study of people who are saddened by loss. It began with camera and film and ended with my head in my hands a tremble with helpless grid and more than a pair of arms surrounding me with comfort.
i spend hours upon hours studying in the library. i study the way you look at me with your brown eyes, the way you dance with me without any music, the way you place your hands on my face, the way you tell me everything you’re thinking, the way your eyes shift from mine to my lips and back again, the way you can’t stop talking when you’re nervous, the way we understand even the vaguest of each other’s thoughts, the way i can’t stop thinking about you, the way everything i think about somehow relates back to you, the way every song i hear makes me wish i was dancing with you, the way no matter what happens i’m going to feel crazy and afraid and excited and annoyed and happy just because for some reason you decided to study me.
I study your face.
Learn every dip
and every climb.
Memorizing the colors
that sprout in your beard.
Taking tally of your eyelashes.
Tracing the outline of your lips
with my finger.
Gazing deep within your changing eyes,
trying to determine their starting hue.
Saving each piece of you
in me.
To pass that class,
I must study.
To keep from failing,
I must study.
To get the word stuck in my head,
I will type study…..
study
study
study
study
thanks oneword.com for reminding me to study….
i never study. never. and i always get by well enough. it just seems like such a hassle. id much rather be sleeping than drilling equations or preterit tense in my head. some times a need a break.
Sheila sighed in frustration as another wave of raucous laughter pealed down the dorms hallway. No one seemed in the mood to study despite exams being less then two weeks away. Sighing again, Sheila pushed the books away for a moment and walked over to her bedroom window, watching the preppy rich kids lounge around without a care in the world.
“Alright for some.” she muttered bitterly, “Mummy and Daddy will just pay for repeat semesters and they’ll never learn.”
She strode back to her desk determined not to be distracted again. Students on scholarships like herself had no choice but to pass; there are no second chances or rich parents to bail you out.
I absolutely hate studying. I don’t mind studying at school, that doesn’t bother me. But when I’m studying at home, I hate it because thoughts of what I COULD be doing rush through my head. Video games, snacks, movies, hanging out with friends. No. Math. Math.
Study. It was an important part of his life, studying. Though that might be an understatement. Perhaps it’d be more apt to say that he had spent his whole life studying; but no, that wasn’t true either. He spent the rest of his time acting out what he studied. Theory was one thing, but application was another. And if he wanted to live to see his twentieth birthday, he had to learn fast. There were no second chances among this family. Once you died, you died.
I freaking hate studying with a passion. It’s obviously rather necessary to be successful in school, for me anyway. My friend, though, hasn’t studied this 4th grade and has never gotten below a B, usually.
What we need to do in order to learn. It is easy if it is an area of interest, more difficult if it is an area of less interest. Study is necessary to learn new tasks and behaviors.
I needed to study. But I couldn’t focus. There was too much to think about.
“Did you call your mom?” I asked this question, but I already knew the answer.
“No.”
“Will you call your mom?”
“No.”
I sat there not really knowing what to do. I had a great relationship with my mother so it was hard to get my head around not calling her in a situation like this one.
what do i have to write? i dont get it! help me please? ok so times running uup…. lalalalalla….. well #1 oneword is cut in half hahaha DONE!! :DM yep im a proooooo woo lalalalala! um why did the time start again? oh man! i dont know what to write! ladidadida!!! ok so im waiting… paitiantly… did i write that right? ill look it up… nope i did not :lp mustache face!! ok times up :l
I study everyday to learn new things. I study to review things. I study to enjoy the rich cultures of academia. I study so I can continue being human; always curious, always learning.
Her father’s library curled around her like a mink. It was small, with high ceilings, but the space was used so efficiently, and so tightly crammed…crap
Mark had a studied expression. To complete the look, sat slightly upright in the Oxford chair, with its low arm rests, he drew his fingers up to a point, supporting his chin. He thought he had managed to effect the look of ‘academic concern’, as if wrestling with a complex problem someone had presented him, to which only long, considered thought would bring a solution.
The reality of the question was much more simple than the effort warranted. In this interview, which had only just begun, the renowned and grave-looking professor had asked him his name, and wishing too hard to impress by looks, he forgot the substance, and sat with this studious expression in the creaking leather chair, while the large clock in the corner ticked out the remaining seconds of the interview.
Five whole minutes passed like this, Mark frantically wracking his brains for an answer, while attempting to maintain an outward expression of calm meditation on the original question. The professor quietly stood awaiting an answer.
Finally, Mark stood up, ashamed of his inability to respond to this simplest of questions, and began to make his apologies, with the intention of leaving.
“Nonsense” replied the professor. “I prefer to have students who are prepared to think carefully before answering the question. Most just blurt out the first thing that enters their head, which is usually their name. You have done otherwise, and where you could have lied, you instead persisted for the truth. You would be very welcome in my philosophy classes. Welcome to the College.” And the professor reached out his hand to Mark’s.
Initially overwhelmed, Mark then fell quiet with embarrassment. If he was going to survive here, he would have to learn to bluff much, much better than this. The professor had already perceived this error of thought, almost before Mark had thought of it himself. He would ultimately realise his error, as the professor knew he would, but it took rather longer than the professor had expected. Not for another seventeen years, in fact, by which time the professor had long since retired, and Mark was himself a renowned fellow of the College, interviewing a candidate for entry to a philosophy degree. When he asked him his name, the candidate adopted a serious, studied pose, and remained that way for several minutes in silence, his visage an outward expression of calm.
Mark resigned his College fellowship the following day, and later in the afternoon, found himself a job at a local grocery store, stacking shelves. While it may not have the renown of his former position, at least there was no bluff in it, and that for him seemed to be more important at that moment.
that which my life has revolved around for the past several weeks, and moreover the past twenty one years, and potentially to the very end of my life. i will never stop learning, and i never want to.
Why was I forbidden all that is beautiful to the heart of life. Love. Companionship. Trust. Tenderness. Encouragement. All that is dear to the heart seems to have been denied to me. I am not going to draw my last breath in this dark abyss, I will pursue the study of the soul’s yearning so that at least I will have God in my heart. If none else, that is beyond enough. For no human love can equate to power of God’s breath in my life.
I fucking hate studyin, ya know? How do you even study? Is there a point? Fuck no. I’ll fail anyway. Sometimes I’d study and pass but nine times out of ten I’d study and fail. Studying gets you nowhere, at least it got me nowhere. I graduated and I’m still nowhere. Maybe I should have learned how to study. Maybe I wouldn’t be nowhere, maybe I’d be somewhere.
Studying is one thing I’m good at doing. My peers and teachers often mistake me as being smart, when really I just know how to get good grades on tests and projects. Plop me down in a real-world situation with consequences that affect me and the people involved, and I break down like an old statue.
I have to study to get good grades. I need god grades so I can graduate at the top of my class, so I can get into a good college. I need to go to a good college for job security, so I can make enough money for the family I’ll start. I need to study. I need to be a success.
What I should be doing instead of rift rafting about my day, instead of sup was happenings? I should be paying close attention to the mistakes that came before me. This land isn’t going to conquer itself and my name is Napoleon.
I was ment to study, but I couldn’t get my brain to focus enough. I looked at the page before me, and read the words, but they didn’t leave the slightest bit of meaning behind. I checked the date, 29th November, I have my economics exam tomorrow. My last exam. I didn’t lmow how I would do, especially if I can’t focus enough to study now!!
It’s the smell of books surrounding you as you walk in that draws you. It’s like an all encompassing atmosphere that doesn’t only enter your nostrils, but enters your imagination, too. It’s the musty smell and the lingering dust shining in the sun that grabs you and shakes you – transporting you to a different, older world. Where you can just escape into an alternate reality.
Sometimes I study the stars, not because I’m amazed with astronomy, but because it’s the only thing that compares to your eyes. I think I love you, and i think I could spend the rest of my life studying your eyes to face the challenge of love.
I like to study people. I am fascinated by human nature. If I were allowed, I would ask people interminable questions — what’s in your closet? did you have fun dressing this morning? what do you like to eat? what do you do for fun? are you happy? if not, why not? what could you do to make your life a more exciting place to be?
she was across the room staring at him. he walked through the door eagerly searching for her. his eyes were blood shot from crying prior to his arrival. his hands were fidgeting with his hands. his forehead was splotched with sweat. his gaze met hers. they watched each other. they were studying each other.
all I ever do anymore is study. I guess that that is normal for a junior in high school but I want so badly to be able to be a kid again. I want to just step back for a minute and forget all that I’m supposed to do. I want to do what I want to do, not what others want me to do.
I think studying is helpful but when you study its tiring and sorta boring.
The little guys’ eyes darted left. right. left again. right and then up. Up, left, right. down. left right. He was dizzy. His eyes haven’t worked this hard. EVER. If he was to know himself he had better study his surroundings.
“Let’s just take a few moments to study what’s been going on here, shall we?” Jensen thought to himself.
Study is such a gross word. I’m tired of studying. I’ve spent my entire life in school. If the world really does end in 2012 then I’ll be so very very sad. Sure, studying and attaining an education is important, but there’s so much more to the world. There’s so much to do and so much to see. So yes, go ahead and study. But make sure you do other things too.
I should study political science but i think that since a couple of months i shiftet to pop culture study … Did you know that Britney Spears worked with the one favorite Björk’s producer, Guy Sigsworth, on her fourth record ‘In The Zone” in 2003 ?
Study hard and you’ll go far. So far you won’t even see the mound you were studying under. You will have crossed so many horizons. Or you will, if you study hard. Go now. Study.
I made a study of people who are saddened by loss. It began with camera and film and ended with my head in my hands a tremble with helpless grid and more than a pair of arms surrounding me with comfort.
i spend hours upon hours studying in the library. i study the way you look at me with your brown eyes, the way you dance with me without any music, the way you place your hands on my face, the way you tell me everything you’re thinking, the way your eyes shift from mine to my lips and back again, the way you can’t stop talking when you’re nervous, the way we understand even the vaguest of each other’s thoughts, the way i can’t stop thinking about you, the way everything i think about somehow relates back to you, the way every song i hear makes me wish i was dancing with you, the way no matter what happens i’m going to feel crazy and afraid and excited and annoyed and happy just because for some reason you decided to study me.
I study your face.
Learn every dip
and every climb.
Memorizing the colors
that sprout in your beard.
Taking tally of your eyelashes.
Tracing the outline of your lips
with my finger.
Gazing deep within your changing eyes,
trying to determine their starting hue.
Saving each piece of you
in me.
To pass that class,
I must study.
To keep from failing,
I must study.
To get the word stuck in my head,
I will type study…..
study
study
study
study
thanks oneword.com for reminding me to study….
i never study. never. and i always get by well enough. it just seems like such a hassle. id much rather be sleeping than drilling equations or preterit tense in my head. some times a need a break.
Sheila sighed in frustration as another wave of raucous laughter pealed down the dorms hallway. No one seemed in the mood to study despite exams being less then two weeks away. Sighing again, Sheila pushed the books away for a moment and walked over to her bedroom window, watching the preppy rich kids lounge around without a care in the world.
“Alright for some.” she muttered bitterly, “Mummy and Daddy will just pay for repeat semesters and they’ll never learn.”
She strode back to her desk determined not to be distracted again. Students on scholarships like herself had no choice but to pass; there are no second chances or rich parents to bail you out.
I absolutely hate studying. I don’t mind studying at school, that doesn’t bother me. But when I’m studying at home, I hate it because thoughts of what I COULD be doing rush through my head. Video games, snacks, movies, hanging out with friends. No. Math. Math.
i studied hard for a test that would decide my future. how i did on this test mattered to me more then anything.
Study. It was an important part of his life, studying. Though that might be an understatement. Perhaps it’d be more apt to say that he had spent his whole life studying; but no, that wasn’t true either. He spent the rest of his time acting out what he studied. Theory was one thing, but application was another. And if he wanted to live to see his twentieth birthday, he had to learn fast. There were no second chances among this family. Once you died, you died.
I freaking hate studying with a passion. It’s obviously rather necessary to be successful in school, for me anyway. My friend, though, hasn’t studied this 4th grade and has never gotten below a B, usually.
What we need to do in order to learn. It is easy if it is an area of interest, more difficult if it is an area of less interest. Study is necessary to learn new tasks and behaviors.
I never liked studying. But now I wish I did. I’ll be one of those parents who makes their kids study.
My head is in the book
But go a head and look
School is a joke
Kids are blowing smoke
If I want an education
I have to rely on my self
There’s nothing here for us
Except a book from the shelf.
I needed to study. But I couldn’t focus. There was too much to think about.
“Did you call your mom?” I asked this question, but I already knew the answer.
“No.”
“Will you call your mom?”
“No.”
I sat there not really knowing what to do. I had a great relationship with my mother so it was hard to get my head around not calling her in a situation like this one.
what do i have to write? i dont get it! help me please? ok so times running uup…. lalalalalla….. well #1 oneword is cut in half hahaha DONE!! :DM yep im a proooooo woo lalalalala! um why did the time start again? oh man! i dont know what to write! ladidadida!!! ok so im waiting… paitiantly… did i write that right? ill look it up… nope i did not :lp mustache face!! ok times up :l
I study everyday to learn new things. I study to review things. I study to enjoy the rich cultures of academia. I study so I can continue being human; always curious, always learning.
Study this.
Her father’s library curled around her like a mink. It was small, with high ceilings, but the space was used so efficiently, and so tightly crammed…crap
Mark had a studied expression. To complete the look, sat slightly upright in the Oxford chair, with its low arm rests, he drew his fingers up to a point, supporting his chin. He thought he had managed to effect the look of ‘academic concern’, as if wrestling with a complex problem someone had presented him, to which only long, considered thought would bring a solution.
The reality of the question was much more simple than the effort warranted. In this interview, which had only just begun, the renowned and grave-looking professor had asked him his name, and wishing too hard to impress by looks, he forgot the substance, and sat with this studious expression in the creaking leather chair, while the large clock in the corner ticked out the remaining seconds of the interview.
Five whole minutes passed like this, Mark frantically wracking his brains for an answer, while attempting to maintain an outward expression of calm meditation on the original question. The professor quietly stood awaiting an answer.
Finally, Mark stood up, ashamed of his inability to respond to this simplest of questions, and began to make his apologies, with the intention of leaving.
“Nonsense” replied the professor. “I prefer to have students who are prepared to think carefully before answering the question. Most just blurt out the first thing that enters their head, which is usually their name. You have done otherwise, and where you could have lied, you instead persisted for the truth. You would be very welcome in my philosophy classes. Welcome to the College.” And the professor reached out his hand to Mark’s.
Initially overwhelmed, Mark then fell quiet with embarrassment. If he was going to survive here, he would have to learn to bluff much, much better than this. The professor had already perceived this error of thought, almost before Mark had thought of it himself. He would ultimately realise his error, as the professor knew he would, but it took rather longer than the professor had expected. Not for another seventeen years, in fact, by which time the professor had long since retired, and Mark was himself a renowned fellow of the College, interviewing a candidate for entry to a philosophy degree. When he asked him his name, the candidate adopted a serious, studied pose, and remained that way for several minutes in silence, his visage an outward expression of calm.
Mark resigned his College fellowship the following day, and later in the afternoon, found himself a job at a local grocery store, stacking shelves. While it may not have the renown of his former position, at least there was no bluff in it, and that for him seemed to be more important at that moment.
to understand something better
to spend time reading papers or stuff to learn better
you do it for an exam
your teacher wants you to do it
that which my life has revolved around for the past several weeks, and moreover the past twenty one years, and potentially to the very end of my life. i will never stop learning, and i never want to.
Why was I forbidden all that is beautiful to the heart of life. Love. Companionship. Trust. Tenderness. Encouragement. All that is dear to the heart seems to have been denied to me. I am not going to draw my last breath in this dark abyss, I will pursue the study of the soul’s yearning so that at least I will have God in my heart. If none else, that is beyond enough. For no human love can equate to power of God’s breath in my life.
I fucking hate studyin, ya know? How do you even study? Is there a point? Fuck no. I’ll fail anyway. Sometimes I’d study and pass but nine times out of ten I’d study and fail. Studying gets you nowhere, at least it got me nowhere. I graduated and I’m still nowhere. Maybe I should have learned how to study. Maybe I wouldn’t be nowhere, maybe I’d be somewhere.
Studying is one thing I’m good at doing. My peers and teachers often mistake me as being smart, when really I just know how to get good grades on tests and projects. Plop me down in a real-world situation with consequences that affect me and the people involved, and I break down like an old statue.
I have to study to get good grades. I need god grades so I can graduate at the top of my class, so I can get into a good college. I need to go to a good college for job security, so I can make enough money for the family I’ll start. I need to study. I need to be a success.
What I should be doing instead of rift rafting about my day, instead of sup was happenings? I should be paying close attention to the mistakes that came before me. This land isn’t going to conquer itself and my name is Napoleon.
I was ment to study, but I couldn’t get my brain to focus enough. I looked at the page before me, and read the words, but they didn’t leave the slightest bit of meaning behind. I checked the date, 29th November, I have my economics exam tomorrow. My last exam. I didn’t lmow how I would do, especially if I can’t focus enough to study now!!
It’s the smell of books surrounding you as you walk in that draws you. It’s like an all encompassing atmosphere that doesn’t only enter your nostrils, but enters your imagination, too. It’s the musty smell and the lingering dust shining in the sun that grabs you and shakes you – transporting you to a different, older world. Where you can just escape into an alternate reality.
I love studying! I study for knowledge, self growth and helping myself learn all that there is! Wish I could get paid for studying…
Sometimes I study the stars, not because I’m amazed with astronomy, but because it’s the only thing that compares to your eyes. I think I love you, and i think I could spend the rest of my life studying your eyes to face the challenge of love.
Oh the irony, most people are probably avoiding this on this website right now :)
I like to study people. I am fascinated by human nature. If I were allowed, I would ask people interminable questions — what’s in your closet? did you have fun dressing this morning? what do you like to eat? what do you do for fun? are you happy? if not, why not? what could you do to make your life a more exciting place to be?
she was across the room staring at him. he walked through the door eagerly searching for her. his eyes were blood shot from crying prior to his arrival. his hands were fidgeting with his hands. his forehead was splotched with sweat. his gaze met hers. they watched each other. they were studying each other.
all I ever do anymore is study. I guess that that is normal for a junior in high school but I want so badly to be able to be a kid again. I want to just step back for a minute and forget all that I’m supposed to do. I want to do what I want to do, not what others want me to do.