The complexity of the problem at hand was, in a word, baffling. How could he choose between the two people he loved mos in life. Honestly, it was cruel and inhumane. Well, there was always the third choice, possibly the only one that was simple. He would just not choose. Instead he wold walk away and let his choice hunt and find him.
the complexity of the emotions on her face were difficult to trace. Maybe it was their lack of conversation at dinner, or possibly something deeper. Regardless, he didn’t know whether to laugh or hug her as their date concluded after dinner, where they would go their separate ways and sleep in separate beds. his dates always ended this way. he’d stopped trying to pretend otherwise.
She wasn’t entirely anything at all. To him, she was nothing but another human with skin draped over bones. Yet somehow she was absolutely everything he thought about. Every night under the moon was him thinking about the way her eyes shined so bright.
Sarah
the complexity of the emotion in her face was hart to trace back to an original source. maybe it was the three words he’d said to her during dinner or maybe it went deeper than that, something that had hurt her from the start that she’d never brought up. either way, the mix of smile and frown, eyebrows drawn together confused him; he didn’t know if he should make her feel better or laugh.
Emma
complexity and complacency
that crap just wont fly with me
“I’m so sick of this,” Hera said, her fingers bending into frustrated claws beside her ears. Before her was an open book– it was a paperback with frayed binding that couldn’t quite contain the hundreds of pages of knowledge it housed.
“What’s wrong now?” Greg asked not unkindly. He was used to her frequent frustrations and by now he knew it was always easier to dull the edge in his voice around his volatile friend.
“Literature.” She said the word without her usual rosy fondness in her tone. This time it was like spitting poison. “All the symbolism and character motivations and three dimensional-ness and complexities and multiplicities of meaning– I am so sick of these gray areas! Why can’t anything be black and white and plain and simple?”
Life is full of complexities. Perhaps you could say that life itself is a complexity. My life is certainly complex. Or maybe I just have a complex! I don’t know! It’s too complicated. Maybe life is a complicate, whatever that is. Who knows? The complex shadow knows. Or does he? Ask him a complex question and see what he says. I’ll bet he won’t say anything, the ignorant savage. What does anyone know? We can’t know until we’re dead, and then it’s too late. Bang! I’m dead! Do you believe in typing after death? I know, that is a complex subject. One of many. My head is spinning. I must turn around the other way, in order to counteract the spin. There. Now…what were we talking about? Do I still have time to contemplate this complex question? My complexion is turning red. The minute must be up. How could I write this many words in only a minute? Has the clock stopped? If not, why not? That is the very uncomplex question. Goodbye, cruel world.
Zelda Martin
Even just spelling the word; complexity, is taking too much effort today. How is it that one day I can accomplish all I set my mind to, but the next hardly more than getting out of bed to pee. Oh yeah. I stopped my zoloft.
J Flook
He stopped, turned, and fixed her with his signature stare. She was taken aback by the complexity of colors in his eyes—a freckled spectrum, not quite green, not quite brown, each color fighting for dominance.
Complexity equals government jargon. Legalese. Unecessary obfuscation. Nuclear scheamtics look complex to the untrained eye. Life’s complex. Nothing’s black and white. Grey bits are complex. Life’s complex. How we yearn for simplicity – but simplcity’s hard to do. Don’t believe me? Try it some time.
Paul Eveleigh
My morning could be described as a train wreck. Vodka for orange juice, and a man for breakfast. Work in two hours. I don’t know how I explain this. The complexity of last night has completely eclipsed me, and now I am at a loss for words.
The complexity of writing this sentence is overwhelming. Timed by the minute. 60 seconds I can think of one million things, but paralyzed by the second in completing this task.
Monique
Life and relationships are complex. Each is a challenge, involving mind and heart. What we learn from one challenge helps us with the next.
marsha ross
The cords weaved around each other in the abyss of entanglement; the gears mimicked a wise clock.
“By God! Will you look at that, Mary. Scientists these days sure do know how to create artificial life forms! Wow- Do you see that? It’s as if it’s looking at me and… thinking!”
“Oh, what fun these creatures are! Maybe we’ll buy one to look after the house when we can afford it – Oh my – quite marvelous indeed.”
The metal beast does as it’s told. Stare at the eyes – the little ellipses on a human face – yes that one – just stare at it. They’ll go bonkers! Soon, we won’t even need humans! We won’t even need the complexity of a human brain.
My job is to break down the complexity in this life and reduce things to their simple essence. Divide each problem and each task into smaller steps making them easier to
tackle and conquer. We admire complexity in patterns and people but it certainly does not make our lives smoother.
Robin
I had a dream
that you were a dragon
and I was the castle
you were protecting
and no one even
dared to try
to take you away
from me
because they loved us
more than we loved
ourselves.
-a.d.r.
Arianna
Things cannot always be so simple. If there was not complexity in our world, we would be bored beyond reason.
She twisted the wire a little further, admiring the flexibility of the writhing form under her fingers. The motion of pain sending his lithe form into convulsions that played out like a symphony– all orchestrated by the wire she was feeding into the vein in his arm. She was such a fan of nerves, revealing in their complexity and ability to send some into fits of panic, while others retched from agony.
Cross woven in a loom and stupidity with flicks of bewilderment but mostly just ignorance. Her mind, like a bee hive, thousands of little wings floating around driving everyone, including herself, simply mad.
If he only knew the complexity of the situation, she thought to herself as she stood over his sleeping body, snoring away, the rumblings of distant dream trains rattling his nostrils and shaking the loose hairs on his balding head. If he only could comprehend the pros and cons she had to weigh out in a mere handful of minutes – no, seconds – before things went awry.
“I’m sorry, my love,” she cooed in her dreary, thin voice, before she lifted the crowbar.
It was all so simple. Now that he had the key. And the key, a nub in his fingers, was ready to fit the etymological lock blinking in the lights of the auto destruct.
Simon K.
There are too many things to thing about. What to wear? What to say? What to do? Who to befriend, who to ignore? The results of these decisions can make or break us. And that, my friends, is why I decided to leave.
the world is complex. people are complex. but most of all, high school is complex. there’s so much shit going on that we don’t have time to just be kids anymore. it’s all signing up for horrible clubs that might look good on our college resume, or hanging out with people we hate because they’re the so called popular kids. it makes people physically ill to walk through two stupid doors into a building that calls itself welcoming and open. yeah, school is the most complex shit out there.
rachel
She understands complexities. There is something in building elaborate structures and intricate frameworks that makes it easy to dismantle them – they are collections of fixed points tethered to one another, and the lines show themselves readily to anybody who is looking. Easy to read. Easy to break apart. Easy to put back together.
Simplicities are harder. They are, in a word, disorienting. Simplicity is nothing but a single point, floating in the stark nothingness of empty space.
It is hard to read between the lines when the lines do not exist.
As the river runs down the rocks, it splits into a hundred little baby rivers, rushing against each other, trying to win while all still being the same being. We are creatures of complexity, the pieces of the river that fight and join and break apart and never get to where they want to go.
Spinning rivulets and line segments dancing across the wall like water skippers
Sunlight on water where tiny ripples divide one surface into dozens, light on some smaller surfaces and others darker
Complexity of the water shimmer and complexity of the water skipper
Merlyn cocked her head at the piece of paper. “So…what is this supposed to be, again?”
Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Guess, dumbo.”
Merlyn narrowed her eyes. A great, long line of crossing lines, loops, crosses–so much complexity!…what did it all mean? And how come Cassidy knew what everything on it meant so perfectly?
“I said it all just a minute ago,” said Cassidy, gloating. “Are you sure you don’t know what it means?”
Merlyn sighed, tracing her finger over the weird designs, in eerily-straight rows and strewn with short lines, dots, and double-lines. “No. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Cassidy smirked. “This,” she drawled, slapping her fat finger down on the piece of paper, “is the alphabet.”
The complexity of our relationship had me baffled. There were days where I was completely fed up with his shit, but by the next day I was his again. We danced sometimes and fought others and it all hung in a delicate balance. One false move on my part and he would set off like a firework, screaming and lighting up the sky with red starbursts that were both beautiful and terrifying.
The complexity overwhelms of this longing drags me down with it. It seems so simple, yet it’s still out of reach.. I know where I want to be, and I know where I am is making me miserable. And even still I can’t seem to leave this hateful place.
One step forward, several back – the occasional good deed obscured on a rap sheet of bad, a fat stack of thoughtless offences the gods drum their finger on – will they, won’t they wipe our sorry asses out? – it all depends on what they consumed last night, if it sat well or not, how good their first cup of coffee was… The complexity of billions of lives causing and effecting in the snarling chaos, can never be distilled, just drunk til the truth of character spills out: we’d commit the same crimes again in the same or other ways.
I try to achieve a balance between complexity and story when I write, a piece that leaves a mark without being obvious. If anything, it’s my thought process that gets complicated. I can’t write Nything at all.
What’s the complexity of the task anyways? It lays in the simplicity. One word, one minute. You’re lost in the easiness while staring at an arrengement of letters. The complex part is that you can do anything with it.
My feelings for you are not complex at all. Simply, I am 100% in love with every aspect of you. How am I not supposed to love someone who is perfect in my eyes. Everything else though is perhaps the most complex thing ever.
The complexity of the problem at hand was, in a word, baffling. How could he choose between the two people he loved mos in life. Honestly, it was cruel and inhumane. Well, there was always the third choice, possibly the only one that was simple. He would just not choose. Instead he wold walk away and let his choice hunt and find him.
the complexity of the emotions on her face were difficult to trace. Maybe it was their lack of conversation at dinner, or possibly something deeper. Regardless, he didn’t know whether to laugh or hug her as their date concluded after dinner, where they would go their separate ways and sleep in separate beds. his dates always ended this way. he’d stopped trying to pretend otherwise.
i’m always lost
there’s complex after complex
small winding roads
a tiny city
complex with avenues on left and right
She wasn’t entirely anything at all. To him, she was nothing but another human with skin draped over bones. Yet somehow she was absolutely everything he thought about. Every night under the moon was him thinking about the way her eyes shined so bright.
the complexity of the emotion in her face was hart to trace back to an original source. maybe it was the three words he’d said to her during dinner or maybe it went deeper than that, something that had hurt her from the start that she’d never brought up. either way, the mix of smile and frown, eyebrows drawn together confused him; he didn’t know if he should make her feel better or laugh.
complexity and complacency
that crap just wont fly with me
Each aura has a complexity built on many factors.It’s not why do we like bluegrass over jazz?It is why do we like music at all.
“I’m so sick of this,” Hera said, her fingers bending into frustrated claws beside her ears. Before her was an open book– it was a paperback with frayed binding that couldn’t quite contain the hundreds of pages of knowledge it housed.
“What’s wrong now?” Greg asked not unkindly. He was used to her frequent frustrations and by now he knew it was always easier to dull the edge in his voice around his volatile friend.
“Literature.” She said the word without her usual rosy fondness in her tone. This time it was like spitting poison. “All the symbolism and character motivations and three dimensional-ness and complexities and multiplicities of meaning– I am so sick of these gray areas! Why can’t anything be black and white and plain and simple?”
Life is full of complexities. Perhaps you could say that life itself is a complexity. My life is certainly complex. Or maybe I just have a complex! I don’t know! It’s too complicated. Maybe life is a complicate, whatever that is. Who knows? The complex shadow knows. Or does he? Ask him a complex question and see what he says. I’ll bet he won’t say anything, the ignorant savage. What does anyone know? We can’t know until we’re dead, and then it’s too late. Bang! I’m dead! Do you believe in typing after death? I know, that is a complex subject. One of many. My head is spinning. I must turn around the other way, in order to counteract the spin. There. Now…what were we talking about? Do I still have time to contemplate this complex question? My complexion is turning red. The minute must be up. How could I write this many words in only a minute? Has the clock stopped? If not, why not? That is the very uncomplex question. Goodbye, cruel world.
Even just spelling the word; complexity, is taking too much effort today. How is it that one day I can accomplish all I set my mind to, but the next hardly more than getting out of bed to pee. Oh yeah. I stopped my zoloft.
He stopped, turned, and fixed her with his signature stare. She was taken aback by the complexity of colors in his eyes—a freckled spectrum, not quite green, not quite brown, each color fighting for dominance.
Complexity equals government jargon. Legalese. Unecessary obfuscation. Nuclear scheamtics look complex to the untrained eye. Life’s complex. Nothing’s black and white. Grey bits are complex. Life’s complex. How we yearn for simplicity – but simplcity’s hard to do. Don’t believe me? Try it some time.
My morning could be described as a train wreck. Vodka for orange juice, and a man for breakfast. Work in two hours. I don’t know how I explain this. The complexity of last night has completely eclipsed me, and now I am at a loss for words.
The complexity of writing this sentence is overwhelming. Timed by the minute. 60 seconds I can think of one million things, but paralyzed by the second in completing this task.
Life and relationships are complex. Each is a challenge, involving mind and heart. What we learn from one challenge helps us with the next.
The cords weaved around each other in the abyss of entanglement; the gears mimicked a wise clock.
“By God! Will you look at that, Mary. Scientists these days sure do know how to create artificial life forms! Wow- Do you see that? It’s as if it’s looking at me and… thinking!”
“Oh, what fun these creatures are! Maybe we’ll buy one to look after the house when we can afford it – Oh my – quite marvelous indeed.”
The metal beast does as it’s told. Stare at the eyes – the little ellipses on a human face – yes that one – just stare at it. They’ll go bonkers! Soon, we won’t even need humans! We won’t even need the complexity of a human brain.
My job is to break down the complexity in this life and reduce things to their simple essence. Divide each problem and each task into smaller steps making them easier to
tackle and conquer. We admire complexity in patterns and people but it certainly does not make our lives smoother.
I had a dream
that you were a dragon
and I was the castle
you were protecting
and no one even
dared to try
to take you away
from me
because they loved us
more than we loved
ourselves.
-a.d.r.
Things cannot always be so simple. If there was not complexity in our world, we would be bored beyond reason.
She twisted the wire a little further, admiring the flexibility of the writhing form under her fingers. The motion of pain sending his lithe form into convulsions that played out like a symphony– all orchestrated by the wire she was feeding into the vein in his arm. She was such a fan of nerves, revealing in their complexity and ability to send some into fits of panic, while others retched from agony.
Cross woven in a loom and stupidity with flicks of bewilderment but mostly just ignorance. Her mind, like a bee hive, thousands of little wings floating around driving everyone, including herself, simply mad.
I do not understand the complexity of love , and i don’t think I’ll ever do .
we try to learn about the complexity of the human body , its made from millions and millions of cells and atoms.
If he only knew the complexity of the situation, she thought to herself as she stood over his sleeping body, snoring away, the rumblings of distant dream trains rattling his nostrils and shaking the loose hairs on his balding head. If he only could comprehend the pros and cons she had to weigh out in a mere handful of minutes – no, seconds – before things went awry.
“I’m sorry, my love,” she cooed in her dreary, thin voice, before she lifted the crowbar.
the complexity was overwhelmingly complex.
It was all so simple. Now that he had the key. And the key, a nub in his fingers, was ready to fit the etymological lock blinking in the lights of the auto destruct.
There are too many things to thing about. What to wear? What to say? What to do? Who to befriend, who to ignore? The results of these decisions can make or break us. And that, my friends, is why I decided to leave.
the world is complex. people are complex. but most of all, high school is complex. there’s so much shit going on that we don’t have time to just be kids anymore. it’s all signing up for horrible clubs that might look good on our college resume, or hanging out with people we hate because they’re the so called popular kids. it makes people physically ill to walk through two stupid doors into a building that calls itself welcoming and open. yeah, school is the most complex shit out there.
She understands complexities. There is something in building elaborate structures and intricate frameworks that makes it easy to dismantle them – they are collections of fixed points tethered to one another, and the lines show themselves readily to anybody who is looking. Easy to read. Easy to break apart. Easy to put back together.
Simplicities are harder. They are, in a word, disorienting. Simplicity is nothing but a single point, floating in the stark nothingness of empty space.
It is hard to read between the lines when the lines do not exist.
As the river runs down the rocks, it splits into a hundred little baby rivers, rushing against each other, trying to win while all still being the same being. We are creatures of complexity, the pieces of the river that fight and join and break apart and never get to where they want to go.
Spinning rivulets and line segments dancing across the wall like water skippers
Sunlight on water where tiny ripples divide one surface into dozens, light on some smaller surfaces and others darker
Complexity of the water shimmer and complexity of the water skipper
Merlyn cocked her head at the piece of paper. “So…what is this supposed to be, again?”
Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Guess, dumbo.”
Merlyn narrowed her eyes. A great, long line of crossing lines, loops, crosses–so much complexity!…what did it all mean? And how come Cassidy knew what everything on it meant so perfectly?
“I said it all just a minute ago,” said Cassidy, gloating. “Are you sure you don’t know what it means?”
Merlyn sighed, tracing her finger over the weird designs, in eerily-straight rows and strewn with short lines, dots, and double-lines. “No. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Cassidy smirked. “This,” she drawled, slapping her fat finger down on the piece of paper, “is the alphabet.”
The complexity of our relationship had me baffled. There were days where I was completely fed up with his shit, but by the next day I was his again. We danced sometimes and fought others and it all hung in a delicate balance. One false move on my part and he would set off like a firework, screaming and lighting up the sky with red starbursts that were both beautiful and terrifying.
Complexity. Such a complicated word. I like words like that.
The complexity overwhelms of this longing drags me down with it. It seems so simple, yet it’s still out of reach.. I know where I want to be, and I know where I am is making me miserable. And even still I can’t seem to leave this hateful place.
One step forward, several back – the occasional good deed obscured on a rap sheet of bad, a fat stack of thoughtless offences the gods drum their finger on – will they, won’t they wipe our sorry asses out? – it all depends on what they consumed last night, if it sat well or not, how good their first cup of coffee was… The complexity of billions of lives causing and effecting in the snarling chaos, can never be distilled, just drunk til the truth of character spills out: we’d commit the same crimes again in the same or other ways.
I try to achieve a balance between complexity and story when I write, a piece that leaves a mark without being obvious. If anything, it’s my thought process that gets complicated. I can’t write Nything at all.
She had yet to see the complexity of the situation she got herself into. But over time she knew it would be okay whatever the challenge ahead.
What’s the complexity of the task anyways? It lays in the simplicity. One word, one minute. You’re lost in the easiness while staring at an arrengement of letters. The complex part is that you can do anything with it.
My feelings for you are not complex at all. Simply, I am 100% in love with every aspect of you. How am I not supposed to love someone who is perfect in my eyes. Everything else though is perhaps the most complex thing ever.