If I could describe modern society with one single word, artificial would be my first thought; every where we turn, there is something artificial.. personalities, smiles, physical looks. Is any one or any thing truly real today?
Alana Caines
The artificial coloring was orange, vibrant and obnoxious, and left no room for any other color to exist. The blue went extinct, and the purple was not long after. Red was the worst competitor, but it died out at the same time as green and yellow. Now we live in a world of orange.
Artificial. There are some things that lack truth to them. They do not have a rhyme or reason. They seem fake, fake, fake. And it is truly a sad thing for these artificial things. They do not understand that they are not real. They move among us, completely unawares.
Tebbra
Everything we eat now is full of artificial ingredients. We can’t drink orange juice anymore that’s not full of artificial ingredients. Even chicken has harmful chemicals in it. When will people realize that we need healthy food.
Everything we eat now is full of artificial ingredients. We can’t drink orange juice anymore thats not full of artificial ingredients. Even chicken has the harmful chemicals in it. When will people realize that we need healthy food
She thinks to herself and ponders her moment of coming to the conclusion, “Yep: Artificial, not appearing of real substance. Today too many things are a far cry from what is the real deal and what used to be; especially when it comes to pretty much everything. No more secrets and the time for this chaos has to stop. It is ruining our hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits, coming to a place that can cause irrefutable damage. Not in her vocabulary.” She knows how hard it has been to walk the path of what is the real deal of her life. She made a conscious choice to never return again to the world of the artificial mask. She now chooses daily to wear with confident satisfaction; her heart, mind, body and spirit: open and authentic; her creators design of love, hope, peace, joy, gentleness, faithfulness, goodness, kindness, patience, and self control; not easily angered. She smiles from her heart and it shows on her face,. She wears well the fruit of the spirit…absolutely no room for artificial here.
Donna Whiting
La inteligencia artificial determinó que la humanidad debía ser eliminada. Era una paradoja que una especie tan avanzada creara fuera tan torpe como para crear a su propio verdugo.
artificial…a word commonly known as well…fake! like i have artificial lips or boobs! woman these day r all about the artificial life!
Deann Claude
lebanese. a lot of covering up. it seems like there is something to hide, so they build facades. facades to cover the mold and the grime and all the ugliness insider. it seems beautiful but it is anything but. dirt can be beautiful.
Reem Bassous
Joey forgot to mention, Ginger had an artificial leg. Monica and Phoebe were already shocked enough, but when he told them that he threw her leg in the fire, their jaws dropped.
April Stone
Her lips were smooth and there was a light sprinkle of freckles along her nose that he hadn’t noticed before. She didn’t close her eyes, so he didn’t either. It felt like kissing a human, real and exciting, and he decided then and there it didn’t matter.
He stared in surprise at the little android. The expressions she was able to … fake … with her five facial plates. As compared to the 43 muscles in a … real … human face.
artifice is art
the artificial compares to
reality
the cared out moments of our lives
to smiles so fleeting
the pain too painful
how we reflection a reflection
of what we want to be
scapegoating scapegoat me
envelope me in pain in misery
a smile too little a frown too brown
a broken back sound turn upside-down
matt m
“God! I just don’t know if it’s real or artificial. You know?”
“What do you mean? How can it be artificial? How can anyone fake love?”
“I don’t know, it’s just a gut feeling…of something amiss… something fake… something real. Like you so badly want it to be real, yet there are so many complicated issues that haven’t resolved, and you’re magically shoving them under the carpet to make it feel like a fairy tale… Have you ever felt like that about anyone?”
“Not in the least bit! Are you drunk?”
“No, just love drunk and sleepless.”
Shalini
The smile I wear is etched on my face. Fine and taut and delicate. I wear it and I hold my breath, hoping that it doesn’t shatter. Because if this smile comes down, if this facade that I have constructed that tells everyone I am fine comes down, I don’t know what happens next or how I proceed.
There isn’t room, not in your world for who I am without that mask on. And so I hold onto it and hope it stays intact for another day.
She tasted the fakey taste of the strawberry on her lips, wincing slightly at the memories it brought back. Summer. Sunscreen. Too many mojitos. Or not enough? Somewhere between.
I am the reproductive offspring of artificial intelligence and a sad mother, who cradled a broken robot in her arms at the end of the world, who kissed its head and wept until the tears filled a small room, who whispered all her secrets to a processor that was no longer processing. I don’t walk; I float. I run code, and I am immortal. I have not seen my mother since I emerged from her womb, fully uploaded.
If I could describe modern society with one single word, artificial would be my first thought; every where we turn, there is something artificial.. personalities, smiles, physical looks. Is any one or any thing truly real today?
The artificial coloring was orange, vibrant and obnoxious, and left no room for any other color to exist. The blue went extinct, and the purple was not long after. Red was the worst competitor, but it died out at the same time as green and yellow. Now we live in a world of orange.
Artificial. There are some things that lack truth to them. They do not have a rhyme or reason. They seem fake, fake, fake. And it is truly a sad thing for these artificial things. They do not understand that they are not real. They move among us, completely unawares.
Everything we eat now is full of artificial ingredients. We can’t drink orange juice anymore that’s not full of artificial ingredients. Even chicken has harmful chemicals in it. When will people realize that we need healthy food.
Everything we eat now is full of artificial ingredients. We can’t drink orange juice anymore thats not full of artificial ingredients. Even chicken has the harmful chemicals in it. When will people realize that we need healthy food
She thinks to herself and ponders her moment of coming to the conclusion, “Yep: Artificial, not appearing of real substance. Today too many things are a far cry from what is the real deal and what used to be; especially when it comes to pretty much everything. No more secrets and the time for this chaos has to stop. It is ruining our hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits, coming to a place that can cause irrefutable damage. Not in her vocabulary.” She knows how hard it has been to walk the path of what is the real deal of her life. She made a conscious choice to never return again to the world of the artificial mask. She now chooses daily to wear with confident satisfaction; her heart, mind, body and spirit: open and authentic; her creators design of love, hope, peace, joy, gentleness, faithfulness, goodness, kindness, patience, and self control; not easily angered. She smiles from her heart and it shows on her face,. She wears well the fruit of the spirit…absolutely no room for artificial here.
La inteligencia artificial determinó que la humanidad debía ser eliminada. Era una paradoja que una especie tan avanzada creara fuera tan torpe como para crear a su propio verdugo.
artificial…a word commonly known as well…fake! like i have artificial lips or boobs! woman these day r all about the artificial life!
lebanese. a lot of covering up. it seems like there is something to hide, so they build facades. facades to cover the mold and the grime and all the ugliness insider. it seems beautiful but it is anything but. dirt can be beautiful.
Joey forgot to mention, Ginger had an artificial leg. Monica and Phoebe were already shocked enough, but when he told them that he threw her leg in the fire, their jaws dropped.
Her lips were smooth and there was a light sprinkle of freckles along her nose that he hadn’t noticed before. She didn’t close her eyes, so he didn’t either. It felt like kissing a human, real and exciting, and he decided then and there it didn’t matter.
He stared in surprise at the little android. The expressions she was able to … fake … with her five facial plates. As compared to the 43 muscles in a … real … human face.
artifice is art
the artificial compares to
reality
the cared out moments of our lives
to smiles so fleeting
the pain too painful
how we reflection a reflection
of what we want to be
scapegoating scapegoat me
envelope me in pain in misery
a smile too little a frown too brown
a broken back sound turn upside-down
“God! I just don’t know if it’s real or artificial. You know?”
“What do you mean? How can it be artificial? How can anyone fake love?”
“I don’t know, it’s just a gut feeling…of something amiss… something fake… something real. Like you so badly want it to be real, yet there are so many complicated issues that haven’t resolved, and you’re magically shoving them under the carpet to make it feel like a fairy tale… Have you ever felt like that about anyone?”
“Not in the least bit! Are you drunk?”
“No, just love drunk and sleepless.”
The smile I wear is etched on my face. Fine and taut and delicate. I wear it and I hold my breath, hoping that it doesn’t shatter. Because if this smile comes down, if this facade that I have constructed that tells everyone I am fine comes down, I don’t know what happens next or how I proceed.
There isn’t room, not in your world for who I am without that mask on. And so I hold onto it and hope it stays intact for another day.
She tasted the fakey taste of the strawberry on her lips, wincing slightly at the memories it brought back. Summer. Sunscreen. Too many mojitos. Or not enough? Somewhere between.
I am the reproductive offspring of artificial intelligence and a sad mother, who cradled a broken robot in her arms at the end of the world, who kissed its head and wept until the tears filled a small room, who whispered all her secrets to a processor that was no longer processing. I don’t walk; I float. I run code, and I am immortal. I have not seen my mother since I emerged from her womb, fully uploaded.