the most automatic thing on this planet is love. Love is automatic for many reasons but one main one is everyone needs it. everyone else needs water and food and thats why life is life. life is made up of stages and the one im in right now is high school.
Michael Schumacher
Their love was automatic. He was drawn to her the moment he saw her, and when he asked her on a date, her heart just couldn’t refuse. Within days they were inseparable, and within weeks they were madly in love.
Kaylyn
There was no effort. I didn’t even have to try. It was automatic. The moment I looked into his big brown puppy eyes, I was in love. I instantly knew he was mine.
Automatic, schizo…natic. That doesn’t rhyme. My car is automatic. I wish my girlfriend was automatic. I wish I had a girlfriend. Why am I writing about this? Oh, well, time to go back to some school work.
Phil
It is automatic, to make martinis. I feel like I do not need eyes or hands to do it. The beauty lies in the shakin, a sort of sexual magic that is transferred, and lingering for those who choose Tanqueray.
It’s for zombies, for drones, for people with no feelings. Worker ants who have no idea what to do, except follow the person ahead of them. Automatic for the People, REM Album. Yeah, that’s basically it.
Liz
I’ve become automatic. Just walking through the day, going through the daily motions. I don’t feel anything, I don’t think anything, I just stand there and drone. Drone on and on and on. Things that happen around me don’t affect me. They’re like tiny pebbles knocking against my hard metal armor. I laugh at jokes, I smile at people, but that’s all. I’ve lost the will to be, to be myself. I lack the independence or free mindedness to think, to dream, to conquer. I’ve lost myself; or as someone almost as mad as me would say, I’ve lost my muchness.
It was automatic auto pilot
My strongest defense
My hurt was trapped inside
For once I wasn’t hurting other people
Only me
It’s safe that way
No one resents me
I do it for them
But how sad that song went through my life
It stuck like gum on the bottom of your shoe
Along with hatred for the world
This is my battle, getting over the hatred I feel for myself
So it doesn’t ricochet any more
I don’t want to hurt those I love
Or could have loved
I sold myself for nothing
Now to repair
My heart hurts as I write
They all have part of it
With every right to burn it into ash
Lauren
Baises, Prejudice, Fear, Joy – are all automatic. You just can’t fake it and reveals the true you. The trick is controlling yourself enough – this is called being Civilised.
R
It’s without even trying that it happens, that the words spill onto the page, like blood from my very veins. Without thought, without pause, without effort.
IT was automatic
I was a million could have been memories in your eyes
But I threw it away
We could have been happy
But I threw it away for another
Words will not fix this
Only time
I will allow it to
I hope you can too
I told you I’m changing every second
And I’m so sorryfor the things I’ve done
But I learn from my past
So I sit in the middle of my life
It only goes up from here
Lauren
Automatic. Automatically thinking, feeling, instantly deciding that life is what I’ve chosen, instantly and automatically deciding that everything is predetermined, and losing all hope. How do I pull out of this mess, and follow my dreams, far-fetched as they seem?
The way you brushed my hair so gently when I cried is something I don’t understand. How can anyone feel so much love and compassion for another human that showing those feelings is completely automatic, when for me it’s all so contrived?
Pru
Her response was automatic shock. Her best friend with him? This couldn’t be. She sat down. She had to. Everything around her was spinning. Who could she trust now? No one.
He stared at her, hesitating. Every part of him wanted to say no. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t continue to do her bidding. How many people had died because he always agreed?
But he ignored these thoughts in favor of looking into her blue eyes, and he bowed his head, and said the words she wanted to hear. “Yes, m’lady.”
it comes automatically. writing, i mean. well, as long as i ignore the proper grammar rules of writing, that is. for example, i tend to take on what i would imagine would be the persona of a young e.e. cummings in his rush to write a 60 second blurb about the word “automatic”. though i believe he would have a far greater eloquence in his writing than i.
Fox Lewis
So many of the things we do everyday have become automatic. Locking the door, how you greet others, what you expect for yourself. So much should be manual instead.
Jacob
I like my automatic car. I like cruising down the road, spacing out, with nothing to occupy my mind except staying in between the lines. Driving is relaxing to me. A time when I can’t possibly be required to think about anything else.
even when
my brain is telling me
“zip it up, keep it shut, dont say it”
what do I do?
I just blurt it out – all of it.
it’s
automatic!
Diana
she sat on a park bench trying to remember if she lived in a city where the sun broke through the dreary day. the sky was overcast and gray. bored watching busses and cars hobble by here she pulled out her lighter. she slid her thumb over the thumbwheel, coaxing it to revolve for her and ignite the flint waiting for its chance to give off a spark. the lighter agreed to her cold hands and let itself burn up its store of lighter fluid. how automatic this simple, yet ordinary, tool was. she thought to herself just as the chilly wind blew the flame out.
The moves are automatic. Fluid, like there is nothing but the beating thump, thump of his heart, in pace with the time of the music. The way it slides down his spine, the way it breathes in his ear, a faint lover’s touch twisting and tearing his insides. He cannot stop, he cannot stay still. He is alive.
They were all like a mindless herd of sheep. Automatic in their approach at life. As long as there was someone with the cane, someone to lead them through the pastures. they were safe.
But they never smiled.
Day after day, sunrise after sunset, it was all the same monotonous days.
Yet they still followed and didn’t protest. Even when the shepherd led them off the cliff.
Mary
“stop it, stooooopppp!” his hands fall away from my sides, left tingling from incecsent tickling. “Do you want me to be able to finish the song or not?” i demand, trying to feign anger while laughing at the same time; i can feel my hair falling into my face and he brushes it back with a quick hand.
“now, find me something that rhymes with automatic.”
“uhhh…enigmatic… charismatic…..” he stops, at a loss.
“anything else?”
“Pancreatic!” He says triumphantly. i burst into giggles.
“that makes me think of pancreatic cancer.” i grimace.
“not the best song topic, though it could spark some conflict, therfore gaining immence popularity!” His imagination always runs away.
The automatic gun was pointed at my head and I began to tremble knowing death was coming soon, while I was stuck wishing that I never wished for it in the first place.
the response was automatic
anger can burst out of your heart faster than any human emotion
because when betrayal and deceit touches you and your not strong enough to merely fall , you instinctively burst with anger.
my reaction was not exaggerated, you merely crossed the line of being a decent human.
robot is a automatic machine the do work by own only by giving instruction at once.
anil
I automatically thought that I’d see him after dance that day. But to my surprise he didn’t show up. Even after he’d told me he would. Even after he said he’d make everything better. But he didn’t and I’m still alone.
Erin
It wasn’t natural. It was automatic. Her hands played across the piano, and her heart fluttered because she knew she couldn’t remember the notes. She just knew them. It was a part of this… all of this. There was no need for a manual overdrive. The keys in front of her started it all.
Spaz
The automatic lightbulb lights up your brain to produce new ideas. It needs no replacement and is solar powered. Going outside recharges it. Sitting inside, drains its power. The automatic lightbulb was invented by Edison’s great great great great second cousin, Madison. She was born on the Madison avenue, right on the street.
Rachel
Falling out of bed is often the most efficient way of rising in the morning. The alarm chimes, man flexes, time flies and, as the man and timepiece simultaneously hit the floor, the automatic teasmaid begins to pour it contents all over his scrotum. Works like a dream.
i am not really sure what I am supposed to do here, but I guess my typing is just automatic. The teacher said type so I am just automatically typing, trying to figure out this website. I m curious how long I will need to type automatically, or how many times I am supposed to use this word. I guess I messed up the submission button because I was automatically taken back to this screen and given more time. OK, I’ll just wait now – it’s automatic.
Kate Leo
Automatic. Things happen as they come. No time to think, react, respond. Just act upon impulse and take the consequences as the come. Good or bad? You don’t know unless you act upon the stimulus and let things happen.
We’d been on the brink of splitting away, lingering at the stage where we both knew things were over, and yet, like a car we weren’t quite ready yet o sell, we kept patching and paying for small repairs, waiting for something huge, like the transmission to blow.
I’m almost running on automatic. I walk around everyday, a legitimate smile on my face, but it’s almost hard to feel real. I have amazing people around me, but my responses feel automatic, my smile feels automatic, my reactions and actions feel automatic. I don’t know why.
Nature’s accomplishments succeed!
I will be strong, sensible and stubborn but still bleed.
Wind will blow,
Heat will dry,
Cold will freeze me.
I alone choose thievery and steal my chances.
To slant with wind, burn as heat and frost like cold, these
Assets I must trust currently.
I alone, instinctively, will prevent altruism.
My own elementary deference reoccurs
Until I’ve dug like an automatic burrowing animal.
I bury myself.
the most automatic thing on this planet is love. Love is automatic for many reasons but one main one is everyone needs it. everyone else needs water and food and thats why life is life. life is made up of stages and the one im in right now is high school.
Their love was automatic. He was drawn to her the moment he saw her, and when he asked her on a date, her heart just couldn’t refuse. Within days they were inseparable, and within weeks they were madly in love.
There was no effort. I didn’t even have to try. It was automatic. The moment I looked into his big brown puppy eyes, I was in love. I instantly knew he was mine.
“you can drive my car”
“no i can’t”
“why the hell not?”
“i can’t drive a fucking stick. you know that.”
Automatic, schizo…natic. That doesn’t rhyme. My car is automatic. I wish my girlfriend was automatic. I wish I had a girlfriend. Why am I writing about this? Oh, well, time to go back to some school work.
It is automatic, to make martinis. I feel like I do not need eyes or hands to do it. The beauty lies in the shakin, a sort of sexual magic that is transferred, and lingering for those who choose Tanqueray.
my brain has been running on automatic lately.
my hands fly over the keys.
my feet walk the same steps.
my eyes take in the flow of words.
it’s all a repetition.
it’s simple.
but i feel like i’m missing something.
It’s for zombies, for drones, for people with no feelings. Worker ants who have no idea what to do, except follow the person ahead of them. Automatic for the People, REM Album. Yeah, that’s basically it.
I’ve become automatic. Just walking through the day, going through the daily motions. I don’t feel anything, I don’t think anything, I just stand there and drone. Drone on and on and on. Things that happen around me don’t affect me. They’re like tiny pebbles knocking against my hard metal armor. I laugh at jokes, I smile at people, but that’s all. I’ve lost the will to be, to be myself. I lack the independence or free mindedness to think, to dream, to conquer. I’ve lost myself; or as someone almost as mad as me would say, I’ve lost my muchness.
It was automatic auto pilot
My strongest defense
My hurt was trapped inside
For once I wasn’t hurting other people
Only me
It’s safe that way
No one resents me
I do it for them
But how sad that song went through my life
It stuck like gum on the bottom of your shoe
Along with hatred for the world
This is my battle, getting over the hatred I feel for myself
So it doesn’t ricochet any more
I don’t want to hurt those I love
Or could have loved
I sold myself for nothing
Now to repair
My heart hurts as I write
They all have part of it
With every right to burn it into ash
Baises, Prejudice, Fear, Joy – are all automatic. You just can’t fake it and reveals the true you. The trick is controlling yourself enough – this is called being Civilised.
It’s without even trying that it happens, that the words spill onto the page, like blood from my very veins. Without thought, without pause, without effort.
IT was automatic
I was a million could have been memories in your eyes
But I threw it away
We could have been happy
But I threw it away for another
Words will not fix this
Only time
I will allow it to
I hope you can too
I told you I’m changing every second
And I’m so sorryfor the things I’ve done
But I learn from my past
So I sit in the middle of my life
It only goes up from here
Automatic. Automatically thinking, feeling, instantly deciding that life is what I’ve chosen, instantly and automatically deciding that everything is predetermined, and losing all hope. How do I pull out of this mess, and follow my dreams, far-fetched as they seem?
The way you brushed my hair so gently when I cried is something I don’t understand. How can anyone feel so much love and compassion for another human that showing those feelings is completely automatic, when for me it’s all so contrived?
Her response was automatic shock. Her best friend with him? This couldn’t be. She sat down. She had to. Everything around her was spinning. Who could she trust now? No one.
He stared at her, hesitating. Every part of him wanted to say no. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t continue to do her bidding. How many people had died because he always agreed?
But he ignored these thoughts in favor of looking into her blue eyes, and he bowed his head, and said the words she wanted to hear. “Yes, m’lady.”
it comes automatically. writing, i mean. well, as long as i ignore the proper grammar rules of writing, that is. for example, i tend to take on what i would imagine would be the persona of a young e.e. cummings in his rush to write a 60 second blurb about the word “automatic”. though i believe he would have a far greater eloquence in his writing than i.
So many of the things we do everyday have become automatic. Locking the door, how you greet others, what you expect for yourself. So much should be manual instead.
I like my automatic car. I like cruising down the road, spacing out, with nothing to occupy my mind except staying in between the lines. Driving is relaxing to me. A time when I can’t possibly be required to think about anything else.
automatic doors, automatic lights, automatic accusations, automatic people.
sometimes
saying the wrong thing
is just
automatic
even when
my brain is telling me
“zip it up, keep it shut, dont say it”
what do I do?
I just blurt it out – all of it.
it’s
automatic!
she sat on a park bench trying to remember if she lived in a city where the sun broke through the dreary day. the sky was overcast and gray. bored watching busses and cars hobble by here she pulled out her lighter. she slid her thumb over the thumbwheel, coaxing it to revolve for her and ignite the flint waiting for its chance to give off a spark. the lighter agreed to her cold hands and let itself burn up its store of lighter fluid. how automatic this simple, yet ordinary, tool was. she thought to herself just as the chilly wind blew the flame out.
The moves are automatic. Fluid, like there is nothing but the beating thump, thump of his heart, in pace with the time of the music. The way it slides down his spine, the way it breathes in his ear, a faint lover’s touch twisting and tearing his insides. He cannot stop, he cannot stay still. He is alive.
automatic means without you. like, you’re not needed. automatic must be a lonely word. it must be hard not needing anyone else, or anything.
They were all like a mindless herd of sheep. Automatic in their approach at life. As long as there was someone with the cane, someone to lead them through the pastures. they were safe.
But they never smiled.
Day after day, sunrise after sunset, it was all the same monotonous days.
Yet they still followed and didn’t protest. Even when the shepherd led them off the cliff.
“stop it, stooooopppp!” his hands fall away from my sides, left tingling from incecsent tickling. “Do you want me to be able to finish the song or not?” i demand, trying to feign anger while laughing at the same time; i can feel my hair falling into my face and he brushes it back with a quick hand.
“now, find me something that rhymes with automatic.”
“uhhh…enigmatic… charismatic…..” he stops, at a loss.
“anything else?”
“Pancreatic!” He says triumphantly. i burst into giggles.
“that makes me think of pancreatic cancer.” i grimace.
“not the best song topic, though it could spark some conflict, therfore gaining immence popularity!” His imagination always runs away.
The automatic gun was pointed at my head and I began to tremble knowing death was coming soon, while I was stuck wishing that I never wished for it in the first place.
the response was automatic
anger can burst out of your heart faster than any human emotion
because when betrayal and deceit touches you and your not strong enough to merely fall , you instinctively burst with anger.
my reaction was not exaggerated, you merely crossed the line of being a decent human.
robot is a automatic machine the do work by own only by giving instruction at once.
I automatically thought that I’d see him after dance that day. But to my surprise he didn’t show up. Even after he’d told me he would. Even after he said he’d make everything better. But he didn’t and I’m still alone.
It wasn’t natural. It was automatic. Her hands played across the piano, and her heart fluttered because she knew she couldn’t remember the notes. She just knew them. It was a part of this… all of this. There was no need for a manual overdrive. The keys in front of her started it all.
The automatic lightbulb lights up your brain to produce new ideas. It needs no replacement and is solar powered. Going outside recharges it. Sitting inside, drains its power. The automatic lightbulb was invented by Edison’s great great great great second cousin, Madison. She was born on the Madison avenue, right on the street.
Falling out of bed is often the most efficient way of rising in the morning. The alarm chimes, man flexes, time flies and, as the man and timepiece simultaneously hit the floor, the automatic teasmaid begins to pour it contents all over his scrotum. Works like a dream.
i am not really sure what I am supposed to do here, but I guess my typing is just automatic. The teacher said type so I am just automatically typing, trying to figure out this website. I m curious how long I will need to type automatically, or how many times I am supposed to use this word. I guess I messed up the submission button because I was automatically taken back to this screen and given more time. OK, I’ll just wait now – it’s automatic.
Automatic. Things happen as they come. No time to think, react, respond. Just act upon impulse and take the consequences as the come. Good or bad? You don’t know unless you act upon the stimulus and let things happen.
We’d been on the brink of splitting away, lingering at the stage where we both knew things were over, and yet, like a car we weren’t quite ready yet o sell, we kept patching and paying for small repairs, waiting for something huge, like the transmission to blow.
I’m almost running on automatic. I walk around everyday, a legitimate smile on my face, but it’s almost hard to feel real. I have amazing people around me, but my responses feel automatic, my smile feels automatic, my reactions and actions feel automatic. I don’t know why.
Nature’s accomplishments succeed!
I will be strong, sensible and stubborn but still bleed.
Wind will blow,
Heat will dry,
Cold will freeze me.
I alone choose thievery and steal my chances.
To slant with wind, burn as heat and frost like cold, these
Assets I must trust currently.
I alone, instinctively, will prevent altruism.
My own elementary deference reoccurs
Until I’ve dug like an automatic burrowing animal.
I bury myself.
independence
automatic independence
do it by yourself
by myself
all alone
instinctively