i saw some sunglasses i thought they where the best so i bought them. next day i met the love of my life because i had boughten them i found out they wher a love spell type and i died.
The sunglasses were more the a form of protection for her eyes. Those glasses where away of taking a memtnal vacation as she slipped them on she found her happy place. Giggles all around her could be heard due to the size and shape of he happy glasses. They were one of a kind and said fun all over them. Who else was brave enough to wear such a thing. She was a woman with courage and inspiration not afraid of being different.
to cover the past, present and future of somebody– they hide lies, secrets, stories and million other things. also prodvide great protection against the sun. remind me of 80’s teen heartthrobs most of the time, never understood why they make some as big as your face nowadays. really useful in making someone look miles more attractive thn they really are by swallowing half their face
I was going out on the shore on a bright sunny morning. the wind was bloeing nice and easy just enough to keep the heat off the skin. A nice rounded hat and a pair of aviator sunglasses to carry the beach-boy look of a gunjee over cargo shorts helped me merge into the thin morning crowd on the beach. You always wish every morning to be atleast as fun as this and then you know that the vacation lasts only for a week to take you back to the daily grind of the morning rush hours.
He rapped sunglasses intact. What a way to make it clear there was a difference and divide between audience and artist. A black curtain that never let them any closer than the judgmental glare behind them allowed.
Cover up my green eyes?
I think they were once funcitonal. It used to be that you’d put them on, and voi la! The gift of sight in bright places. Now they’re a fashion statement. The bigger the better, everyone! Which is astoundingly weird when you think about it. Eyes are one of the prettiest part of anyone, why would you want to cover them up with as much as possible?
Sunglasses, the entire thought of blocking out what gives you life is quite odd isnt it? the sun can be used as a metaphor for truth. it hurts when you stare it in the face but as long as you know its there your okay. and breathing
They mirrored my eyes. He could have been looking right through me, I’d never had known otherwise. His eyes were hidden by a glassy indulgence. It was a shame to be the one to shoot the bullet through those gorgeous frames. They shattered in slow motion as my heart sank with his limp body. Perfection blown away. He didn’t have time to wipe the smile from his face. He didn’t have time to blink.
The sunglasses sat on the floor, a beam of sunlight shining on them through the window. Her blood, splattered across the wooden slats of the floor boards shone like rubies scattered in the sunlight.
I find sunglasses to be a precious gift from above. I am able to conceal my identity behind them because everyone knows it’s all in the eyes. I am not able to leave the house without a pair in my hand; even if the skies are overcast, they will remain in tact. It’s close to dusk and they’ll still be attached to my head. I just would rather not look in anyone in the eye because I sometimes do not feel like having a conversation with a stranger. Also, I sometimes do not want those I know to spot me in the crowd where ever I seem to go. All I need are my sunglasses and earphones to keep me hidden.
Sherlock curled into the corner of the bistro, nervously hidden in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a pair of sunglasses large enough to cover his cheekbones. Half of his mind was on constant alert, surveying those around him to make sure he wasn’t recognized. The other half was concentrated on the two men seated closer to the door, engaged in friendly conversation. The shorter one had his elbow propped on the table, resting a casual grip on his cup of tea as the sunlit window highlighted a golden sheen to his hair. A metal collapsible cane rested against the wall beside him.
The taller man, adorned with a shaggy brown cut and three-day stubble, leaned back against his chair, his hips scooted forward just enough to make room for the pistol concealed in the waistband against his back. Without having to re-consult his references, Sherlock knew that this man matched the descriptions and photographs of one Sebastian Moran. When Hu told him that the sniper was keeping a personal watch on John, he hadn’t been exaggerating.
Sherlock sat in his booth for awhile longer, resisting the urge to curl his knees up to his chin, as he knew the distinctive gesture would be a dead giveaway to John. The literary part of Sherlock’s mind cringed at the idiom.
A careful observation of the interaction between the two sharpshooters revealed a well-established friendship. They were comfortable in each other’s company, and were happy to discuss subjects of both a personal and general nature. John shared his morning paper with Sebastian, who poured over it with a hawkish stare. Sebastian told John of his prior night’s conquest, complete with lewd charades, and John laughed heartily and took a bite of his scone.
Sherlock stood and ordered a drink to go, hiding his face with it as he passed his quarry on his way out the door. This situation required delicacy and careful planning. If he was to make himself known to John, it would mean the end of John’s friendship with Sebastian. Sherlock tried not to let himself think about the benefits of leaving the situation as it was.
That blinding sun.. It’s bright rays peek through my glasses, blocking my view of the breathtaking scenery in front of me. The wind through my hair, the refreshing saltwater lapping at my feet… who could ask for a better day?
Not paying attention to my steps, I end up tripping over myself, falling into the water just as a wave cleverly crashes over me. Well, there goes my sexy beach hair. But a voice knocks me out of my current thoughts of shame.
“You alright?” The man asks, extending a helping hand. I take it with one hand, the other raising above my arms to block the incoming rays (which were supposed to be blocked by my sunglasses. -.-) A man clad in black swim shorts and a white t-shirt is smiling warmly at me. Water clings to his amazing body, which is peeking through at me through his soaked t-shirt. My speech is rendered useless at this moment in time and my eyes widen. His hand still over mine, he curiously tilts his head.
If only I hadn’t tripped. If only I hadn’t looked like a complete idiot in front of a complete angel.
Damn these sunglasses.
I wake up in bed. Can’t seem to remember a thing about last night. I roll out of bed and plant my feet on the floor and step right onto my sunglasses, shit.
Not much was left. Merely a fine layer of volcanic sand in the folds of her clothes, the lingering smell of saltwater brine in her hair, and a stinging burn temporarily outlining the shape of her dark sunglasses.
John slipped the sunglasses off the bridge of Dave’s noise, dangling then in his hands and not quite sure what to make of them. Witnessing his friend wear the things so often quickly became a day-to-day basis, and had taken John more than it should have to realize that they were in fact, detachable from the Strider person. If anything, sunglasses might as well be hereditary. The sole unique trait of the Strider bloodlines, and the constant source for their undeniable coolness. John contemplated what to do with the glasses, gazing down at them once again before deciding that their place was better with Dave. He could’ve been ironically fantastic, or just as personally bland, but John usually enjoyed himself more without being those.
The bright sun shone o n the Chicago beach, and tourists flocked to greet it. The umbrellas and beach balls scattered so fast across the sandy landscape, it was as if a artist had drop his buck of paint on a brown canvas. I arrived at the scene, sunglasses and sun screen in hand, preparing to dive in to the chaos of a crowed hot spot. I pushed and shoved my way closer and closer to the water, towel in hand I scout out a spot by the glorious water.
he stands on top of the roof, searching for something–someone–down below. he doesn’t even know what he’s looking for. he’ll know, they said. maybe he would’ve found whatever or whoever it is if it weren’t for these stupid shades on his face. he has half a mind to throw them off the building, but he knows the consequences. he pushes them higher on the bridge of his nose.
Rayban
I love my aviator rayban glasses. They allow me to look at life with a different perspective. I think we could all use a different angle to view things that are going on in the world right now.
The diner had closed an hour ago. The marble tiles were hard and cold beneath me but it felt so good just to sit there in peace. The soft swish-swoosh melody of the dishwasher behind the counter, the overhead fan and its gentle song, the emptiness of being alone. I looked forward to this moment every day.. the silence. So when the bell clung above the front entrance, I nearly swallowed my heart. I flew up from the floor, smacking my head against the counter. After blinking through the tears it was if someone had slipped sunglasses over my eyes. the room looked like an aged photograph; I could barely see the man that stood just five feet in front of me.
they look like bug eyes, if you could see them. but it’s like that with everything, isn’t it? we don’t really see what things are all about, we just know what they’re like. it’s a bit like not thinking, but more like not seeing. and not seeing is what i try to do when i see those big brown eyes behind those big bug glasses.
Look at the mask I wear to cover my face.
Try to look beyond you may,
but you see only a reflection of your face.
You want to take down my gleaming mirrors to see whats behind.
but you just keep seeing yourself.
You want to change how people wear masks.
Recall you may that you wear a pair too.
Slide them down to your nose, and let the world see you.
You learn you must be the change, you wish to see.
She touched her sunglasses, and stared out over the beach. Images flickered and spun, overlaid on the sunbathers. She pursed her lips. _That one’s not really divorced. That one doesn’t want to leave his wife, but he’s watching the girl in the white bikini and wondering if he should want to. And that one knows the girl in the white bikini was worth leaving his wife for._
i wear my sunglasses at night, so i can, so i can… ok~that was the 1st thing that came to mind. the next is how i adore sunglasses, but always buy really cheap ones. it’s a good thing because i have a tend to lose them quite a bit….in the lake…down the toilet..you name it…sunglasses have taken on a new meaning for me these days because they help me from squinting which in turns helps me to hopefully not have as many wrinkles!!!!
You can’t see the windows to my soul behind them.
You can’t see my red, tear stained eyes.
You can’t see the damage you left on my soul.
You can’t see the gaping hole where my heart used to be.
But at least I look cool…
I really don’t care
If I appear unaware
As you’re checking YOUR hair
In MY pair
of mirrored sunglasses
Because I remember
They’re to block out the sun
I’m not trying to impress no one
but watching people fix their hair
is kinda fun
until THEY block
the light of the sun
and then they’d better run
cause suddenly…I’m no fun!
pass the lotion…
Her sunglasses were too big for her head. She looked like a weirdo. I saw what she was doing. Hiding behind those glasses like we didn’t know who she was. Well, I did. She was going to kill it. She was going to explode and kill everyone. Stupid sunglasses. LOL
black or dark colored they help you see when out in the sun yet they do not always block all the sun. sneaky, mysterious, special, children, plastic, and helpful. able to allow you to spy on people without them knowing, quite a lovely invention.
She sat near the window by herself, with the sun forcing her eyes to squint through the traffic outside. She had designer glasses nestled on her head, but she didn’t use them–she just kept focusing on what might be out there.
Hide yourself from the light, from reality, from everything, and look through darkened eyes at the world. I don’t care, but I really do, but I still don’t care, it rings in your head.
I always manage to break my sunglasses, but knock on wood at the moment I have two great pairs. Why is it a pair of sun glasses? Its one glasses as one set, not a pair of them. I under stand glasses is plural because there are two pieces of glass covering your eyes. But a pair of sun glasses suggests two different sets of glasses that shade your eyes from the sun. PSHT so misleading….
From behind her sunglasses she watches the crowd
Searching for her next victom with ruthless intent.
Ah! There, the unsuspecting man.
Bare feet pound the sand in near silence,
Until, she leaps, giving a a shrill war cry.
He turns just in time, and she is caught
Midair to be held upsidedown by the laughing man
and she shrieks,
“Let me down daddy, let me down.”
He wore dirty sunglasses to school everyday. The type of glasses that have smudge marks across the lenses and are tattered around the rims. He would wear them with pride however, not caring what others thought about him, or his sunglasses. It was always the same pair, he never brought new ones even though I knew he had the money.
i saw some sunglasses i thought they where the best so i bought them. next day i met the love of my life because i had boughten them i found out they wher a love spell type and i died.
The sunglasses were more the a form of protection for her eyes. Those glasses where away of taking a memtnal vacation as she slipped them on she found her happy place. Giggles all around her could be heard due to the size and shape of he happy glasses. They were one of a kind and said fun all over them. Who else was brave enough to wear such a thing. She was a woman with courage and inspiration not afraid of being different.
I put my sunglasses on top of my head. “What a place for dragons,” I thought.
She took her sunglasses off. “What did you expect?” She asked.
to cover the past, present and future of somebody– they hide lies, secrets, stories and million other things. also prodvide great protection against the sun. remind me of 80’s teen heartthrobs most of the time, never understood why they make some as big as your face nowadays. really useful in making someone look miles more attractive thn they really are by swallowing half their face
I was going out on the shore on a bright sunny morning. the wind was bloeing nice and easy just enough to keep the heat off the skin. A nice rounded hat and a pair of aviator sunglasses to carry the beach-boy look of a gunjee over cargo shorts helped me merge into the thin morning crowd on the beach. You always wish every morning to be atleast as fun as this and then you know that the vacation lasts only for a week to take you back to the daily grind of the morning rush hours.
He rapped sunglasses intact. What a way to make it clear there was a difference and divide between audience and artist. A black curtain that never let them any closer than the judgmental glare behind them allowed.
Cover up my green eyes?
I think they were once funcitonal. It used to be that you’d put them on, and voi la! The gift of sight in bright places. Now they’re a fashion statement. The bigger the better, everyone! Which is astoundingly weird when you think about it. Eyes are one of the prettiest part of anyone, why would you want to cover them up with as much as possible?
Sunglasses, the entire thought of blocking out what gives you life is quite odd isnt it? the sun can be used as a metaphor for truth. it hurts when you stare it in the face but as long as you know its there your okay. and breathing
They mirrored my eyes. He could have been looking right through me, I’d never had known otherwise. His eyes were hidden by a glassy indulgence. It was a shame to be the one to shoot the bullet through those gorgeous frames. They shattered in slow motion as my heart sank with his limp body. Perfection blown away. He didn’t have time to wipe the smile from his face. He didn’t have time to blink.
The sunglasses sat on the floor, a beam of sunlight shining on them through the window. Her blood, splattered across the wooden slats of the floor boards shone like rubies scattered in the sunlight.
I find sunglasses to be a precious gift from above. I am able to conceal my identity behind them because everyone knows it’s all in the eyes. I am not able to leave the house without a pair in my hand; even if the skies are overcast, they will remain in tact. It’s close to dusk and they’ll still be attached to my head. I just would rather not look in anyone in the eye because I sometimes do not feel like having a conversation with a stranger. Also, I sometimes do not want those I know to spot me in the crowd where ever I seem to go. All I need are my sunglasses and earphones to keep me hidden.
Sherlock curled into the corner of the bistro, nervously hidden in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a pair of sunglasses large enough to cover his cheekbones. Half of his mind was on constant alert, surveying those around him to make sure he wasn’t recognized. The other half was concentrated on the two men seated closer to the door, engaged in friendly conversation. The shorter one had his elbow propped on the table, resting a casual grip on his cup of tea as the sunlit window highlighted a golden sheen to his hair. A metal collapsible cane rested against the wall beside him.
The taller man, adorned with a shaggy brown cut and three-day stubble, leaned back against his chair, his hips scooted forward just enough to make room for the pistol concealed in the waistband against his back. Without having to re-consult his references, Sherlock knew that this man matched the descriptions and photographs of one Sebastian Moran. When Hu told him that the sniper was keeping a personal watch on John, he hadn’t been exaggerating.
Sherlock sat in his booth for awhile longer, resisting the urge to curl his knees up to his chin, as he knew the distinctive gesture would be a dead giveaway to John. The literary part of Sherlock’s mind cringed at the idiom.
A careful observation of the interaction between the two sharpshooters revealed a well-established friendship. They were comfortable in each other’s company, and were happy to discuss subjects of both a personal and general nature. John shared his morning paper with Sebastian, who poured over it with a hawkish stare. Sebastian told John of his prior night’s conquest, complete with lewd charades, and John laughed heartily and took a bite of his scone.
Sherlock stood and ordered a drink to go, hiding his face with it as he passed his quarry on his way out the door. This situation required delicacy and careful planning. If he was to make himself known to John, it would mean the end of John’s friendship with Sebastian. Sherlock tried not to let himself think about the benefits of leaving the situation as it was.
That blinding sun.. It’s bright rays peek through my glasses, blocking my view of the breathtaking scenery in front of me. The wind through my hair, the refreshing saltwater lapping at my feet… who could ask for a better day?
Not paying attention to my steps, I end up tripping over myself, falling into the water just as a wave cleverly crashes over me. Well, there goes my sexy beach hair. But a voice knocks me out of my current thoughts of shame.
“You alright?” The man asks, extending a helping hand. I take it with one hand, the other raising above my arms to block the incoming rays (which were supposed to be blocked by my sunglasses. -.-) A man clad in black swim shorts and a white t-shirt is smiling warmly at me. Water clings to his amazing body, which is peeking through at me through his soaked t-shirt. My speech is rendered useless at this moment in time and my eyes widen. His hand still over mine, he curiously tilts his head.
If only I hadn’t tripped. If only I hadn’t looked like a complete idiot in front of a complete angel.
Damn these sunglasses.
I wake up in bed. Can’t seem to remember a thing about last night. I roll out of bed and plant my feet on the floor and step right onto my sunglasses, shit.
Not much was left. Merely a fine layer of volcanic sand in the folds of her clothes, the lingering smell of saltwater brine in her hair, and a stinging burn temporarily outlining the shape of her dark sunglasses.
The sunglasses pressed to her skin, leaving indents for the sun to fill.
John slipped the sunglasses off the bridge of Dave’s noise, dangling then in his hands and not quite sure what to make of them. Witnessing his friend wear the things so often quickly became a day-to-day basis, and had taken John more than it should have to realize that they were in fact, detachable from the Strider person. If anything, sunglasses might as well be hereditary. The sole unique trait of the Strider bloodlines, and the constant source for their undeniable coolness. John contemplated what to do with the glasses, gazing down at them once again before deciding that their place was better with Dave. He could’ve been ironically fantastic, or just as personally bland, but John usually enjoyed himself more without being those.
Shallow water
Under a sky of paling blue
No noise except
Gulls
Lazing Tourists
And the waves hitting
Sand hitting
Sun.
Easy ways to
Serenade a writer.
Sometimes, I wonder what you keep trying to hide from me. Doesn’t matter, though, ’cause I hide a lot from you too.
The bright sun shone o n the Chicago beach, and tourists flocked to greet it. The umbrellas and beach balls scattered so fast across the sandy landscape, it was as if a artist had drop his buck of paint on a brown canvas. I arrived at the scene, sunglasses and sun screen in hand, preparing to dive in to the chaos of a crowed hot spot. I pushed and shoved my way closer and closer to the water, towel in hand I scout out a spot by the glorious water.
he stands on top of the roof, searching for something–someone–down below. he doesn’t even know what he’s looking for. he’ll know, they said. maybe he would’ve found whatever or whoever it is if it weren’t for these stupid shades on his face. he has half a mind to throw them off the building, but he knows the consequences. he pushes them higher on the bridge of his nose.
People act like sunglasses make them cooler when it doesnt ! All sunglasses do is : BLOCK SUN
Sun gleams through glass.
Glass absorbs the sun’s power.
Rayban
I love my aviator rayban glasses. They allow me to look at life with a different perspective. I think we could all use a different angle to view things that are going on in the world right now.
The diner had closed an hour ago. The marble tiles were hard and cold beneath me but it felt so good just to sit there in peace. The soft swish-swoosh melody of the dishwasher behind the counter, the overhead fan and its gentle song, the emptiness of being alone. I looked forward to this moment every day.. the silence. So when the bell clung above the front entrance, I nearly swallowed my heart. I flew up from the floor, smacking my head against the counter. After blinking through the tears it was if someone had slipped sunglasses over my eyes. the room looked like an aged photograph; I could barely see the man that stood just five feet in front of me.
they look like bug eyes, if you could see them. but it’s like that with everything, isn’t it? we don’t really see what things are all about, we just know what they’re like. it’s a bit like not thinking, but more like not seeing. and not seeing is what i try to do when i see those big brown eyes behind those big bug glasses.
Look at the mask I wear to cover my face.
Try to look beyond you may,
but you see only a reflection of your face.
You want to take down my gleaming mirrors to see whats behind.
but you just keep seeing yourself.
You want to change how people wear masks.
Recall you may that you wear a pair too.
Slide them down to your nose, and let the world see you.
You learn you must be the change, you wish to see.
She touched her sunglasses, and stared out over the beach. Images flickered and spun, overlaid on the sunbathers. She pursed her lips. _That one’s not really divorced. That one doesn’t want to leave his wife, but he’s watching the girl in the white bikini and wondering if he should want to. And that one knows the girl in the white bikini was worth leaving his wife for._
i wear my sunglasses at night, so i can, so i can… ok~that was the 1st thing that came to mind. the next is how i adore sunglasses, but always buy really cheap ones. it’s a good thing because i have a tend to lose them quite a bit….in the lake…down the toilet..you name it…sunglasses have taken on a new meaning for me these days because they help me from squinting which in turns helps me to hopefully not have as many wrinkles!!!!
You can’t see the windows to my soul behind them.
You can’t see my red, tear stained eyes.
You can’t see the damage you left on my soul.
You can’t see the gaping hole where my heart used to be.
But at least I look cool…
I really don’t care
If I appear unaware
As you’re checking YOUR hair
In MY pair
of mirrored sunglasses
Because I remember
They’re to block out the sun
I’m not trying to impress no one
but watching people fix their hair
is kinda fun
until THEY block
the light of the sun
and then they’d better run
cause suddenly…I’m no fun!
pass the lotion…
Her sunglasses were too big for her head. She looked like a weirdo. I saw what she was doing. Hiding behind those glasses like we didn’t know who she was. Well, I did. She was going to kill it. She was going to explode and kill everyone. Stupid sunglasses. LOL
black or dark colored they help you see when out in the sun yet they do not always block all the sun. sneaky, mysterious, special, children, plastic, and helpful. able to allow you to spy on people without them knowing, quite a lovely invention.
She sat near the window by herself, with the sun forcing her eyes to squint through the traffic outside. She had designer glasses nestled on her head, but she didn’t use them–she just kept focusing on what might be out there.
Hide yourself from the light, from reality, from everything, and look through darkened eyes at the world. I don’t care, but I really do, but I still don’t care, it rings in your head.
Dark, dreary, they drape the eyes, conceal the face, the ultimate cover-up, the hiding place we all need.
round, square, dark, light. Sunglasses at night, in the sun, in the dark, hiding, hiding… I ask myself, why do we use them?
I always manage to break my sunglasses, but knock on wood at the moment I have two great pairs. Why is it a pair of sun glasses? Its one glasses as one set, not a pair of them. I under stand glasses is plural because there are two pieces of glass covering your eyes. But a pair of sun glasses suggests two different sets of glasses that shade your eyes from the sun. PSHT so misleading….
From behind her sunglasses she watches the crowd
Searching for her next victom with ruthless intent.
Ah! There, the unsuspecting man.
Bare feet pound the sand in near silence,
Until, she leaps, giving a a shrill war cry.
He turns just in time, and she is caught
Midair to be held upsidedown by the laughing man
and she shrieks,
“Let me down daddy, let me down.”
He wore dirty sunglasses to school everyday. The type of glasses that have smudge marks across the lenses and are tattered around the rims. He would wear them with pride however, not caring what others thought about him, or his sunglasses. It was always the same pair, he never brought new ones even though I knew he had the money.