The people of Midgar ran around like ants when they realized the plate was about to drop. Reno should’ve felt something like remorse, but he didn’t. He just hit the button and took down the entire ant hill with a quick flick of a switch.
The ants climb through the picnic foraging for scraps to take. Its going to be a long day ahead of them. Just because they can carry many times their weight, doesn’t mean it comes easily. The ants train long and hard, working in the weight room, they even have friendly competitions of who can bench the most.
Rose
An ant doesn’t see the world to scale. He isn’t an individual, he has no rights. Of course, he doesn’t give a shit about any of these things- here I go, with my giant humanoid brain, assigning complex desires to simple creatures that were only designed for one purpose. Great, now I’m rambling.
It’s funny, when you think about it,
ants have a smarter society then we do.
They’re more organized and they know how to follow directions.
We could probably learn a thing or two.
If only didn’t squash the ants,
but then again, I do tend to find them annoying
don’t you?
People say I’m small.
They say I’m weak.
Sometimes I choose to ignore it,
and sometimes It finally gets to me.
Sometimes it makes me feel alone
and other times it makes me feel like an ant.
Sometimes it makes me feel like I’ll always be failure
as if I’ll never be good enough.
Maybe they’re right.
But are they right because it’s true
or are they right because I let them?
I think the answer is,
I let them convince myself
that I am powerless and small
like an ant.
The little boy, dressed in a a muddy red t-shirt and stained khakis crouched down on the ground. He pulled a magnifying glass out of his pocket.
“Where did you get that?” His brother said.
“Momma.”
He ran the magnifying glass over the ground, as if it were a metal detector looking for treasure at the beach.
“Lookie!”
He held the glass over a big, brown ant.
I prefer my log to be absent of ants. Never really liked the ants. Come to think of it, never really liked the log. But the peanut butter… mmmmmm!
Krista
Ants perplex me.
Why can’t we be so organized, work-oriented, goal-oriented?
Why can’t we listen to our elders?
Why can’t most men respect women?
Why can’t we be so STRONG?
They’re so tiny, so easy to squash; yet, if they could be at our level we’d have to do what they say.
The little ant chugging away at the impossible task, pulling the stalk of wheat along to the hive, forever searching and never find its way back. That’s me, that ant, I don’t know where I am or where I’m going, and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to bring back the thing I need most. So I’ll stay here in the dark, clutching my book to my chest, too scared to do anything important.
He giggled as the ant crawled around his toes. It was such a funny feeling, to be young, to be sitting in the grass with ants on your toes and grass in your hair, when being alone with your dad was just enough to make you feel grown, and it makes you miss your mom. These are the kind of days that I miss. Even though we must keep moving forward, I want to be young again more than anything. It’s a dull pain in my chest
The thing looked as if it was moving, like sloshy black water was flowing over it every which way, and a foul stink touched his nose when he stopped in his tracks. The darkness had concealed it until now, writhing and scampering all over her body were black ants.
She was dead. He knew it now.
he ached to hold her but the darkness was hiding a terrible secret.
Why was the baby ant confused? Because all of his uncles were ants. HAHA this joke was on my math worksheet in eighth grade. I found it so funny and it has stuck with me ever since. Anyways. I missed two days of words on here but that’s okay. At least I have been pretty good with keeping up with it.
Teeps
The ant is alone. Separated from it’s group- the family it once grew, laughed, and shared with.
The ant is alone. Lost. Little. Can’t find it’s way home.
One look at the ant, and I knew I was a gonner. The thing was huge, half the size of a city bus. The double-decker kind, in fact. I knew what I had to do. I took one step forward and drove the pipe right up through the thing’s elevator-sized head, screaming as I went.
Raymond Masters
A tiny, insignificant creature that can be stomped by the heel of a snobbish woman. A minuscule creature that can build great mounds and carry heavy loads on its back. Something that can change the universe.
Sabrina
Little specks inching across the pavement. I’m laid out on my belly warm in the grass. The wind rolls over my sweat damp skin and I shiver with the feeling. It’s quiet and peaceful here and I can spend hours watching an ant explore a foot of cement.
The ant wasn’t very small, as far as ants go. Sharon stared at it with eyes wide. She had seen ants in her time – who hadn’t? – but this thing was huge, twice the size of the diamond on her finger! She didn’t scream, but she stood up rather faster than she had meant to, and blacked out. That’s how Rich found her.
Brittany
ants are small little creatures , which can cause a great deal of pain when they bite. They are notorious for their stings , some of which are even poisonous. Remember to never get on their wrong side ;)
small little creatures with six legs. they come along while you’re having a picnic and take your crumbs. they bite you sometimes and it hurts if its a fire ant biting you. nobody likes them because they arent cute or anything. they swarm if you step on their ant piles.
Kaliska
The weight on my back is just enough to get me through the day, get my family some food.
It seems like a giant percentage, but I can handle it.
I stared down at the tiny creature clinging to the grass. Everything has such a small, yet significant place in life…I don’t mind ants, I really don’t, but if they’re outside sometimes I don’t bother taking them out, and instead I squash them. I’m ashamed of that. But out here…I can just watch them and forget my worries for a little.
Allison
the ants were biting at my feet every morning, reminding me of the things that can get me down, that pinch and that jab but that i can barely even see. the things that stop you dead in your tracks and you never saw coming, but when you look down and look around you, you realize you were the one that ignorantly walked into the ant hill
In a flash she was carrying off boxes and piles of papers, creating a path from the closet to the door, where only mounds of debris and sat blocking the hoarders way. She was a worker ant and there was lots of work to be done.
Valerahaha
‘ant’ was the code name for the secret project. other names also featured animals or plants with extreme strength. the pill researched in the project was originally a simple hallucinogenic, which had some strange side affects…
franky
What a peculiar tiny creature it is. Sleep is for the weak, but the ant and its friends never need a chance to fall into slumber or even take a quick nap. How is one able to work so hard and carry loads hundred times of their body size weight, yet become so vulnerable to us, earthly humans, with just a pinch between the fingers. Oh, how do you end up so randomly in the strangest places; in my hair, or under the chair. Every ant has its own adventure. If only we knew and stop harming this magnificent creatures, they’re working tirelessly and venturing curiously into our world.
an ant hill of hope
turned into a mountain of magic
when i had faith that God
would provide just what i have now
and with each new day i continue to give thanks
for what i have
no matter the amount
i’m certain that it’ll grow
all the blessings that i see
and what each and everyone
i will thank Him eternally
because life is so sweet
when you’re giving proper praise
and patient in your knowledge
that you will find Brighter Days
sometimes the world makes you feel like an ant – in many ways. when someone makes you realize youve said or done something silly, when you gain new perspective and realize your previous views were wrong or off, maybe when you look into someones eyes, when you realize someone is better than you, when you realize someones always got it worse than you. the weirdest is when youre laying in bed and for no reason at all you suddenly feel infinitely small, like the bed is swallowing you, and the world outside is comparable to the vastness of space. ever get that feeling? makes all your concerns and experiences seem like carrying honey to the queen bee. its all so miniscule, not so elaborate after all. like all your problems and fantasies are as simple as hormones. and life is short and tomorrow you may find a large curvacious shoe coming at you. its a strange feeling because you dont feel like the concious, reflective human being we were supposed to have evolved into according to archaeologists. any of these concepts simply seem as a matter of fact and not philosophical or debatable or artistic or significant in any way or for any reason. it simply is and you simply are and you fit into the rest of the universe the way in which you do and that is simply that. like an odd feeling that isnt odd at all. almost as if two natures inside of us are both colliding and coexisting at once. as one? perhaps this is the meaning, the scheme of things, the answer of the universe.
ants are small, so tiny. but busy. hard workers, building, creating, caring, doing. on the go all the time, looking after the nest, each other. protecting, stinging, biting, not letting anything harm the eggs, the most precious of things to them, cutting, carrying, foraging, so busy, all the time.
the mighty army ant struggle to carry its prey over the enormous anthill, pushing with all its might and hoping that its six legs wouldn’t give out before it carried the caterpillar–about ninety times heavier than it was–into its home. a dark shadow loomed above them, two deep and terrifying voices laughed and argued, and one giant hand plucked him from the base of the mountain and deposited him into the entrance to his home.
I am but an ant. You can step on me if you wish, crush me with your words. I am the one to get the leftovers, those last few crumbs from the picnic. I am the one that is shooed away, “We don’t want you here!” I am that kind of girl. I am the ant.
I am the one not thought of, i am the one that bothers the others but will never understand just how much so. Ants don’t speak English. I don’t speak your language.
I am that kind of girl.
I am the ant.
holding 10 times the weight of my mass ,i hold ,lift,carry. Amongst my colony i am 1 of many all with a similar direction. From soldier to queen we build with 1 of many in mind.
mr584903
When I was a little girl I used to lay on the ground and watch an ant carry his food in his mouth to his home. I would follow him all the way until he got to where he was going, sometimes it was very far.
Mary Lou Wynegar
As small as an ant. A dot. A mvoing speck. A piece of static. Scattered. Swarming with burdens of secrets. Maving mole-hills out of anthills.
wow this creature is so annoying it bites and crawls and they come in millions. god knows where they have been hiding and manifesting and how they can appear at such a random place such as my finger or on my butt…
veronica
The ants, disturbed by my mother sitting on a log very close to their hill, crawled up her legs in fiery anger. She jumped up and brushed them off in a panic, already noticing red welts on her bared ankles.
Is it wrong to kill an ant? If so, many of us would be guilty of heinous crimes. Why does one life have more meaning than another? If it is intelligence, then some might feel justified in euthanasia.
Catherine
Trapped.
The light burned brighter over my head.
I looked up, hoping to see an idea,
but I only saw the cruel investigative eyes of a man pretending at detective work.
This time–it was a fluke.
How did he know?
I covered everything so well, no trace left unscrubbed.
But now–
I’m just an ant under the microscope.
right now, i’m watching the titanic. it’s crazy how small you feel with rushing water around you. i don’t think i could of had more of a great word. rushing water, the ship sinking, every one has no idea if they will make it out alive. and theres a priest praying. and everyone feels like an ant. so powerful and so powerless. so small. so hopefull as hopeless.
The people of Midgar ran around like ants when they realized the plate was about to drop. Reno should’ve felt something like remorse, but he didn’t. He just hit the button and took down the entire ant hill with a quick flick of a switch.
The ants climb through the picnic foraging for scraps to take. Its going to be a long day ahead of them. Just because they can carry many times their weight, doesn’t mean it comes easily. The ants train long and hard, working in the weight room, they even have friendly competitions of who can bench the most.
An ant doesn’t see the world to scale. He isn’t an individual, he has no rights. Of course, he doesn’t give a shit about any of these things- here I go, with my giant humanoid brain, assigning complex desires to simple creatures that were only designed for one purpose. Great, now I’m rambling.
still,chores needed to be done.mouths had to be fed.she could only allow herself to salk over kent as long as she kept playing the good ant.
It’s funny, when you think about it,
ants have a smarter society then we do.
They’re more organized and they know how to follow directions.
We could probably learn a thing or two.
If only didn’t squash the ants,
but then again, I do tend to find them annoying
don’t you?
People say I’m small.
They say I’m weak.
Sometimes I choose to ignore it,
and sometimes It finally gets to me.
Sometimes it makes me feel alone
and other times it makes me feel like an ant.
Sometimes it makes me feel like I’ll always be failure
as if I’ll never be good enough.
Maybe they’re right.
But are they right because it’s true
or are they right because I let them?
I think the answer is,
I let them convince myself
that I am powerless and small
like an ant.
The little boy, dressed in a a muddy red t-shirt and stained khakis crouched down on the ground. He pulled a magnifying glass out of his pocket.
“Where did you get that?” His brother said.
“Momma.”
He ran the magnifying glass over the ground, as if it were a metal detector looking for treasure at the beach.
“Lookie!”
He held the glass over a big, brown ant.
I prefer my log to be absent of ants. Never really liked the ants. Come to think of it, never really liked the log. But the peanut butter… mmmmmm!
Ants perplex me.
Why can’t we be so organized, work-oriented, goal-oriented?
Why can’t we listen to our elders?
Why can’t most men respect women?
Why can’t we be so STRONG?
They’re so tiny, so easy to squash; yet, if they could be at our level we’d have to do what they say.
The little ant chugging away at the impossible task, pulling the stalk of wheat along to the hive, forever searching and never find its way back. That’s me, that ant, I don’t know where I am or where I’m going, and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to bring back the thing I need most. So I’ll stay here in the dark, clutching my book to my chest, too scared to do anything important.
They say we’re the strongest in the world.
“Such small creatures!” they exclaim. “But look at how much they can endure!”
What if we’re tired of being strong?
What if we can barely support ourselves after supporting everyone else’s weight?
Please allow us the opportunity to be weak.
Nothing lasts forever, not even strength.
He giggled as the ant crawled around his toes. It was such a funny feeling, to be young, to be sitting in the grass with ants on your toes and grass in your hair, when being alone with your dad was just enough to make you feel grown, and it makes you miss your mom. These are the kind of days that I miss. Even though we must keep moving forward, I want to be young again more than anything. It’s a dull pain in my chest
The thing looked as if it was moving, like sloshy black water was flowing over it every which way, and a foul stink touched his nose when he stopped in his tracks. The darkness had concealed it until now, writhing and scampering all over her body were black ants.
She was dead. He knew it now.
he ached to hold her but the darkness was hiding a terrible secret.
Why was the baby ant confused? Because all of his uncles were ants. HAHA this joke was on my math worksheet in eighth grade. I found it so funny and it has stuck with me ever since. Anyways. I missed two days of words on here but that’s okay. At least I have been pretty good with keeping up with it.
The ant is alone. Separated from it’s group- the family it once grew, laughed, and shared with.
The ant is alone. Lost. Little. Can’t find it’s way home.
One look at the ant, and I knew I was a gonner. The thing was huge, half the size of a city bus. The double-decker kind, in fact. I knew what I had to do. I took one step forward and drove the pipe right up through the thing’s elevator-sized head, screaming as I went.
A tiny, insignificant creature that can be stomped by the heel of a snobbish woman. A minuscule creature that can build great mounds and carry heavy loads on its back. Something that can change the universe.
Little specks inching across the pavement. I’m laid out on my belly warm in the grass. The wind rolls over my sweat damp skin and I shiver with the feeling. It’s quiet and peaceful here and I can spend hours watching an ant explore a foot of cement.
The ant wasn’t very small, as far as ants go. Sharon stared at it with eyes wide. She had seen ants in her time – who hadn’t? – but this thing was huge, twice the size of the diamond on her finger! She didn’t scream, but she stood up rather faster than she had meant to, and blacked out. That’s how Rich found her.
ants are small little creatures , which can cause a great deal of pain when they bite. They are notorious for their stings , some of which are even poisonous. Remember to never get on their wrong side ;)
small little creatures with six legs. they come along while you’re having a picnic and take your crumbs. they bite you sometimes and it hurts if its a fire ant biting you. nobody likes them because they arent cute or anything. they swarm if you step on their ant piles.
The weight on my back is just enough to get me through the day, get my family some food.
It seems like a giant percentage, but I can handle it.
I’ve carried heavier things before.
I stared down at the tiny creature clinging to the grass. Everything has such a small, yet significant place in life…I don’t mind ants, I really don’t, but if they’re outside sometimes I don’t bother taking them out, and instead I squash them. I’m ashamed of that. But out here…I can just watch them and forget my worries for a little.
the ants were biting at my feet every morning, reminding me of the things that can get me down, that pinch and that jab but that i can barely even see. the things that stop you dead in your tracks and you never saw coming, but when you look down and look around you, you realize you were the one that ignorantly walked into the ant hill
In a flash she was carrying off boxes and piles of papers, creating a path from the closet to the door, where only mounds of debris and sat blocking the hoarders way. She was a worker ant and there was lots of work to be done.
‘ant’ was the code name for the secret project. other names also featured animals or plants with extreme strength. the pill researched in the project was originally a simple hallucinogenic, which had some strange side affects…
What a peculiar tiny creature it is. Sleep is for the weak, but the ant and its friends never need a chance to fall into slumber or even take a quick nap. How is one able to work so hard and carry loads hundred times of their body size weight, yet become so vulnerable to us, earthly humans, with just a pinch between the fingers. Oh, how do you end up so randomly in the strangest places; in my hair, or under the chair. Every ant has its own adventure. If only we knew and stop harming this magnificent creatures, they’re working tirelessly and venturing curiously into our world.
an ant hill of hope
turned into a mountain of magic
when i had faith that God
would provide just what i have now
and with each new day i continue to give thanks
for what i have
no matter the amount
i’m certain that it’ll grow
all the blessings that i see
and what each and everyone
i will thank Him eternally
because life is so sweet
when you’re giving proper praise
and patient in your knowledge
that you will find Brighter Days
© L
sometimes the world makes you feel like an ant – in many ways. when someone makes you realize youve said or done something silly, when you gain new perspective and realize your previous views were wrong or off, maybe when you look into someones eyes, when you realize someone is better than you, when you realize someones always got it worse than you. the weirdest is when youre laying in bed and for no reason at all you suddenly feel infinitely small, like the bed is swallowing you, and the world outside is comparable to the vastness of space. ever get that feeling? makes all your concerns and experiences seem like carrying honey to the queen bee. its all so miniscule, not so elaborate after all. like all your problems and fantasies are as simple as hormones. and life is short and tomorrow you may find a large curvacious shoe coming at you. its a strange feeling because you dont feel like the concious, reflective human being we were supposed to have evolved into according to archaeologists. any of these concepts simply seem as a matter of fact and not philosophical or debatable or artistic or significant in any way or for any reason. it simply is and you simply are and you fit into the rest of the universe the way in which you do and that is simply that. like an odd feeling that isnt odd at all. almost as if two natures inside of us are both colliding and coexisting at once. as one? perhaps this is the meaning, the scheme of things, the answer of the universe.
ants are small, so tiny. but busy. hard workers, building, creating, caring, doing. on the go all the time, looking after the nest, each other. protecting, stinging, biting, not letting anything harm the eggs, the most precious of things to them, cutting, carrying, foraging, so busy, all the time.
the mighty army ant struggle to carry its prey over the enormous anthill, pushing with all its might and hoping that its six legs wouldn’t give out before it carried the caterpillar–about ninety times heavier than it was–into its home. a dark shadow loomed above them, two deep and terrifying voices laughed and argued, and one giant hand plucked him from the base of the mountain and deposited him into the entrance to his home.
I am but an ant. You can step on me if you wish, crush me with your words. I am the one to get the leftovers, those last few crumbs from the picnic. I am the one that is shooed away, “We don’t want you here!” I am that kind of girl. I am the ant.
I am the one not thought of, i am the one that bothers the others but will never understand just how much so. Ants don’t speak English. I don’t speak your language.
I am that kind of girl.
I am the ant.
holding 10 times the weight of my mass ,i hold ,lift,carry. Amongst my colony i am 1 of many all with a similar direction. From soldier to queen we build with 1 of many in mind.
When I was a little girl I used to lay on the ground and watch an ant carry his food in his mouth to his home. I would follow him all the way until he got to where he was going, sometimes it was very far.
As small as an ant. A dot. A mvoing speck. A piece of static. Scattered. Swarming with burdens of secrets. Maving mole-hills out of anthills.
wow this creature is so annoying it bites and crawls and they come in millions. god knows where they have been hiding and manifesting and how they can appear at such a random place such as my finger or on my butt…
The ants, disturbed by my mother sitting on a log very close to their hill, crawled up her legs in fiery anger. She jumped up and brushed them off in a panic, already noticing red welts on her bared ankles.
Is it wrong to kill an ant? If so, many of us would be guilty of heinous crimes. Why does one life have more meaning than another? If it is intelligence, then some might feel justified in euthanasia.
Trapped.
The light burned brighter over my head.
I looked up, hoping to see an idea,
but I only saw the cruel investigative eyes of a man pretending at detective work.
This time–it was a fluke.
How did he know?
I covered everything so well, no trace left unscrubbed.
But now–
I’m just an ant under the microscope.
right now, i’m watching the titanic. it’s crazy how small you feel with rushing water around you. i don’t think i could of had more of a great word. rushing water, the ship sinking, every one has no idea if they will make it out alive. and theres a priest praying. and everyone feels like an ant. so powerful and so powerless. so small. so hopefull as hopeless.