i find myself glancing slowly across the page. The words are familiar. I have read them many times. But once more they feel new, like discovering a wooded hutch, in the forest behind the house.
The phone blinked at him again. Three text’s from that irritating human. Ah…there it went again. Why? Why send messages via an electronic device when they were sitting right next to each other? The concept was utterly ridiculous and he was not going to stand for it.
“Stop texting me.”
this is the dumbest word.
Is it even a words?
texts? like text messages?
Because that certainly isn’t text…like “read the text.”
like the stuff you’d find in a TEXT BOOK
it’s a stupid word with no poetic meaning
how the fuck am I supposed to write about it???
She didn’t know what to text…there was too many of them. They just flooded in, like the tears. Too many texts, too many tears. He broke her heart, he didn’t deserve a response. Not now, and not ever. She closed her phone.
I love getting sweet texts. They have to be my favorite. I hate not getting texts… I get bored. I dont know what I would do without ”texts”. Alot of my texts are stupid and pointless.
Sometimes texts aren’t exactly what they seem. People misinterpret them, abuse the privelege, use them to create silly fights with people they love. Yeah, we’ve done all of these, but you know what? They’re awesome. They keep friends together and help the world know about other people. Because the importance of the world is knowing what’s happening in it.
texts are messages you receive on mobile phones. they can be uplifting, disheartening or frightening. cyber-bullying is a form of bullying where people say mean things to others through the use of the internet and through interacting via mobile phones. this a very common occurrence in pre-teens and teenagers lives and has some serious consequences and it needs to stop. now.
i text never. No one loves me enough to text me. i have this kick ass Iphone that only gets used for stupid games like Temple run and Bubble pop. the Ocasional Twitter. The End
Hahaha, texting. For someone who’s never had a phone in her LIFE, that’s just one more thing other people have to worry about that I don’t. And I’m not too sad about that, most of the time. Texting causes problems that wouldn’t ever happen otherwise. I mean, it’d be nice to be able to talk to people sometimes, but still…I’m glad I don’t have texting.
And all the sweet, loving texts suddenly stopped. there were no more calls and silly voicemails. No more driving out to see him and no more late night adventures. He was gone and there was nothing I could do about it.
It was a rainy after noon, and she sighed at the drops racing down her window. Besides the girl, whose gaze remained unwavered, a phone lit up. The phone had been constantly lighting up with texts. But the girl would just sigh, and never glance at the phone.
Soon, the only light would come from the phone. Whenever a text would come, the room would be lit up, casting shadows. But she was in no mood to enter reality, no mood to engage in conversations.
texts. they always had made my day. but this morning, the text had ruined it. Yes, it was only 7am, but my day had already been destroyed by the simple message that i got last night while i was sleeping. this morning was my first chance to see it.
The white screen began to fill with words. Where was this coming form? What was this about?
I had no idea what they said.
I had no idea what to do.
As the page flooded with text, I felt a lull fall over me.
So, I thought. So this is what it feels like to be helpless.
The text went on.
I sat on.
Days searching through cracks in cave walls, and untangling cobwebs from her hair, and finally it grazed her fingers tips. The lost chapters of the Icarus, the ancient text of her ancestors. A treasure where mythology, religion and reality were weaved seamlessly.
Letters folding upon one another playing among the blank white pages of my notebook standing neatly in line to form a sweet sentence that sings to you congregating with one another to form a union of thoughts and ideas and we call it a page.
Remember when we didn’t check our phone every 5 minutes? “I’m just checking the time.” Don’t lie to yourself, you’re not fooling anyone, because we all know that in the back of your head you’re hoping for that person’s name to pop up in your screen.
The texts were not written in any language I knew of. They were just tidbits of power exercised by the thumb enhanced. Maybe I needed to rethink the need to read at all.
People write texts in cellphones when they want to send messages to each other . The words are so often abbreviated – do we speak like this to each other in our normal conversations? Hey mte, wats da haps? I guess we do.
Manuscripts aren’t so uncommon in London, nor are they really in any metropolitan area, but it is the quality of their binding, the crack of the spine, the specific effort to lifting the pages infused by a certain quality of life. It is the specific quality of these texts, though perhaps crumbling, which makes them unique to any other part of the world, dripping in fog, infused with the density of the air.
there are little messages sent from one phone to the other generally with questions and is the new way to keep up with your friends and family easier and less invasive than a phone call…. another meaning could be a piece of literature or something like that. it has five letters one vowel.
Why does it always say texts?
lol. But it’s boring now. But then I kinda have to use it anyways. lol.
Nothing special about it.
Almost everyone uses them.
A lot of diffrent ways. lol
I seldom to reply to people anymore, and then everybody thinks that I hate them (this is certainly not true…for the most part, anyway).
I love meeting people in person, or hearing their voice from over the phone. I feel that there is so much more to say and discover about a person, rather than typing a frickin’ novel on a tiny little screen.
Texts are something that can change you’re mood, your day, or even your life. Think. What if someone texted you that your family member died? Or, asked you out? That would definitely change things.
And yet this universe wasn’t written in some eternal book, but shaped and moulded with hands. Surely! I could believe nothing less! How could this beautiful place be made, after all, of a few mathematical equations at their core?
Texts blowing up my phone. Ugh. Why would I say that. The texts of my cult of personality would not permit that to fall from my lips like a heathen. No, this grunged-out voodoo sect would rather I use worlds like “derelict” and “déclassé,” not paraphrase Ke$ha and mimic the frolicking dance steps of dirty hipsters.
texts are inanimate yet living breathing stories and thoughts from other peoples mouths. they tell something. and yet they can be so emotionally detatched abt averything that is going on. it proves that physically being somewhere with someone is the most important thing abt life.
We stay up at night to read them and we savor the messages they deliver. 3:46, the screen illuminates the room and stings in our eyes but we smile at the words even though we can’t make them out with our hazy mind. Not properly. We will have to decipher it in the morning when the ringtone isn’t muted anymore.
Omg I really don’t write a lot but I mean text I love to text it’s all around u I meanall the teens us it I men y would they not its wat we us to talk to each other and I mean wat if we were at a cool awesome place and ur friends were not there and I mean u have to till them and u have to text them that’s way they made phones to tell and talk about wat u are doing and never ever stop like right now I mean this is the longest sentes I have writes in my hole life well I mean many I will right a longer sentence but right now it is like I am going to send this to someone like a TEXT. And right now I was texting someone but now I am on stumble upon and they say to text or to talk about text well the word texts.
i find myself glancing slowly across the page. The words are familiar. I have read them many times. But once more they feel new, like discovering a wooded hutch, in the forest behind the house.
The phone blinked at him again. Three text’s from that irritating human. Ah…there it went again. Why? Why send messages via an electronic device when they were sitting right next to each other? The concept was utterly ridiculous and he was not going to stand for it.
“Stop texting me.”
this is the dumbest word.
Is it even a words?
texts? like text messages?
Because that certainly isn’t text…like “read the text.”
like the stuff you’d find in a TEXT BOOK
it’s a stupid word with no poetic meaning
how the fuck am I supposed to write about it???
She didn’t know what to text…there was too many of them. They just flooded in, like the tears. Too many texts, too many tears. He broke her heart, he didn’t deserve a response. Not now, and not ever. She closed her phone.
I love getting sweet texts. They have to be my favorite. I hate not getting texts… I get bored. I dont know what I would do without ”texts”. Alot of my texts are stupid and pointless.
Sometimes texts aren’t exactly what they seem. People misinterpret them, abuse the privelege, use them to create silly fights with people they love. Yeah, we’ve done all of these, but you know what? They’re awesome. They keep friends together and help the world know about other people. Because the importance of the world is knowing what’s happening in it.
Texts,
misunderstood
fights
confusion
no emotion
why do we have them?
Hi
‘Helllo
Whyat’s up?
nio5hing much. hbu?
Not much. wha re you wearing?
Nothing ;)
oooooo ;d
texts are messages you receive on mobile phones. they can be uplifting, disheartening or frightening. cyber-bullying is a form of bullying where people say mean things to others through the use of the internet and through interacting via mobile phones. this a very common occurrence in pre-teens and teenagers lives and has some serious consequences and it needs to stop. now.
i text never. No one loves me enough to text me. i have this kick ass Iphone that only gets used for stupid games like Temple run and Bubble pop. the Ocasional Twitter. The End
Hahaha, texting. For someone who’s never had a phone in her LIFE, that’s just one more thing other people have to worry about that I don’t. And I’m not too sad about that, most of the time. Texting causes problems that wouldn’t ever happen otherwise. I mean, it’d be nice to be able to talk to people sometimes, but still…I’m glad I don’t have texting.
And all the sweet, loving texts suddenly stopped. there were no more calls and silly voicemails. No more driving out to see him and no more late night adventures. He was gone and there was nothing I could do about it.
who would have known that he’d die at 18…
It was a rainy after noon, and she sighed at the drops racing down her window. Besides the girl, whose gaze remained unwavered, a phone lit up. The phone had been constantly lighting up with texts. But the girl would just sigh, and never glance at the phone.
Soon, the only light would come from the phone. Whenever a text would come, the room would be lit up, casting shadows. But she was in no mood to enter reality, no mood to engage in conversations.
ink stained
green-black corrupts
finding its way into grooves
and heart-strings
eyes trace calligraphy
lines form images
false memories
warnings
lessons learned
hand to hand
wrinkle numb to new
a tome to teach
texts. they always had made my day. but this morning, the text had ruined it. Yes, it was only 7am, but my day had already been destroyed by the simple message that i got last night while i was sleeping. this morning was my first chance to see it.
The white screen began to fill with words. Where was this coming form? What was this about?
I had no idea what they said.
I had no idea what to do.
As the page flooded with text, I felt a lull fall over me.
So, I thought. So this is what it feels like to be helpless.
The text went on.
I sat on.
Days searching through cracks in cave walls, and untangling cobwebs from her hair, and finally it grazed her fingers tips. The lost chapters of the Icarus, the ancient text of her ancestors. A treasure where mythology, religion and reality were weaved seamlessly.
Letters folding upon one another playing among the blank white pages of my notebook standing neatly in line to form a sweet sentence that sings to you congregating with one another to form a union of thoughts and ideas and we call it a page.
once a girl texted me
it was rather nice
speaking words so sweetly
bringing to my life much spice
for a moment it felt we were close
two people intertwined
yet we were miles apart
and this woman I must now find.
Remember when we didn’t check our phone every 5 minutes? “I’m just checking the time.” Don’t lie to yourself, you’re not fooling anyone, because we all know that in the back of your head you’re hoping for that person’s name to pop up in your screen.
The texts were not written in any language I knew of. They were just tidbits of power exercised by the thumb enhanced. Maybe I needed to rethink the need to read at all.
People write texts in cellphones when they want to send messages to each other . The words are so often abbreviated – do we speak like this to each other in our normal conversations? Hey mte, wats da haps? I guess we do.
once upon a time there was a chinese guy. this guy was the master of a secret martial arts technique. he learned this by reading some books
instant digital mail, high-speed information transfer, robotic letters swim in hyperspace
transduced into recognizeable and comprehendeable energy
I love you.
They’re inexistent,
my mind is going 100mph
I speak at 10 for just an instant
A day goes by, then another
I’m stuck wondering if
I was ever worth the bother
I have so much to say,
but my thoughts are
worthless
I’m no longer persistent
the texts are inexistent
simple yet dignified… as though we thought? now society has changed what we think is artistic…
i wrote so many texts over and over, trying to get it right. if i could just click send, maybe it would end.
Manuscripts aren’t so uncommon in London, nor are they really in any metropolitan area, but it is the quality of their binding, the crack of the spine, the specific effort to lifting the pages infused by a certain quality of life. It is the specific quality of these texts, though perhaps crumbling, which makes them unique to any other part of the world, dripping in fog, infused with the density of the air.
there are little messages sent from one phone to the other generally with questions and is the new way to keep up with your friends and family easier and less invasive than a phone call…. another meaning could be a piece of literature or something like that. it has five letters one vowel.
Why does it always say texts?
lol. But it’s boring now. But then I kinda have to use it anyways. lol.
Nothing special about it.
Almost everyone uses them.
A lot of diffrent ways. lol
They’re used to inform?
They’re you used yo contact?
They’re different types.
They cool. lol.
Idk why,
Well my time is over. (;
Text messaging has become so boring to me.
I seldom to reply to people anymore, and then everybody thinks that I hate them (this is certainly not true…for the most part, anyway).
I love meeting people in person, or hearing their voice from over the phone. I feel that there is so much more to say and discover about a person, rather than typing a frickin’ novel on a tiny little screen.
phone
computer
contacting
paper
font
hi
brb
wut u doin
lol
rofl
g2g
Texts are something that can change you’re mood, your day, or even your life. Think. What if someone texted you that your family member died? Or, asked you out? That would definitely change things.
Texts are cool… Like yeah.
I don’t get why.
Yep.
And yet this universe wasn’t written in some eternal book, but shaped and moulded with hands. Surely! I could believe nothing less! How could this beautiful place be made, after all, of a few mathematical equations at their core?
Texts blowing up my phone. Ugh. Why would I say that. The texts of my cult of personality would not permit that to fall from my lips like a heathen. No, this grunged-out voodoo sect would rather I use worlds like “derelict” and “déclassé,” not paraphrase Ke$ha and mimic the frolicking dance steps of dirty hipsters.
texts are inanimate yet living breathing stories and thoughts from other peoples mouths. they tell something. and yet they can be so emotionally detatched abt averything that is going on. it proves that physically being somewhere with someone is the most important thing abt life.
We stay up at night to read them and we savor the messages they deliver. 3:46, the screen illuminates the room and stings in our eyes but we smile at the words even though we can’t make them out with our hazy mind. Not properly. We will have to decipher it in the morning when the ringtone isn’t muted anymore.
Omg I really don’t write a lot but I mean text I love to text it’s all around u I meanall the teens us it I men y would they not its wat we us to talk to each other and I mean wat if we were at a cool awesome place and ur friends were not there and I mean u have to till them and u have to text them that’s way they made phones to tell and talk about wat u are doing and never ever stop like right now I mean this is the longest sentes I have writes in my hole life well I mean many I will right a longer sentence but right now it is like I am going to send this to someone like a TEXT. And right now I was texting someone but now I am on stumble upon and they say to text or to talk about text well the word texts.