a fingeprint is what defines you as a human being. everyone has their own individual set of fingerprints and they can distinguish you from others by them.
allyssiag
evidence that you/I was there. I’ve left something behind, proof. you can’t deny me, or ignore me. but, you can wipe me away.
Adrienne
A fingerprint is pretty damn special if you ask me.
Why would humans have fingerprints if not for something important?
I think fingerprints are a great reminder of how special one person can be, after all almost every single fingerprint is different on everybody.
Sometimes it’s just a comforting though, I guess.
And for reference’s sake, I’m in a love with a certain Samantha.
Me
its for a persons identity..it can help identifying criminals..its something individualistic..unique for evry person… it can also leave dirty marks on things…unfavourable for criminals
sonam
duno.. what do i say? they’r unique, n are hence used in a lot of modern criminal research and personal identification methods.. i love mine..
i wana sleep
Ratnesh
Ooh, this reminds me of crime novels and DNA. Not sure why crime novels; maybe because I’ve just read one. ‘Careless in Red’ by Elizabeth George. An Inspector Lynley mystery. Very good. I recommend it to all of you. And it DOES mention finderprints.
Ellie
fingerprints are mostly used for identification, since every fingerprint is unique for every person, they are very helpful in crime investigation. koalas also have fingerprints, which are very similar to that of a human.
leo
you swirl around and tell me
that your name isn’t
what i thought it was,
and you aren’t
who i think you are,
you’re just a swirl,
nothing more, just a clear
tear droplet on my
fingertip.
(you burned away my sanity.)
fallenpanda
We are all leaving fingerprints all the time. On the people we meet, on the things we touch, on the places we visit. Sometimes it’s unintentional but can have a massive impact on someone’s life. You probably mean more to some people than they do to you.
Alasdhair
fingerprints are unique and individual. probably the only thing about a person that is, entirely. Personality, habits, even physical characteristics are derived from those around us, but our fingerprints are completely our own.
buttons85
s are very unique. omg, i need to think. ooh! fingerprints…. remind me of katy perry? um… goodness i can’t remember. but how many unique fingerprints are out there, really? aren’t there too many people in the world to have a kajillion number of fingerprints? how many combinations of unique squiggles can be out there?
Bea
He stood, and he wrote, and he couldn’t help but notice the fingerprint dance on the gun. He looked at it forever, till time faded away and the gun dissolved into the memories of its victims. He’ll never forget, and she’ll never forget, but the fingerprint will always remain.
Andy
Paint. I love the gritty feeling of the tempera under my nails and in the grooves of my very identity. I swirl the reds and blues and greens and yellows together and combine things so concrete to create something so abstract.
dks
She left a fingerprint on the coffe mug. It took me at least a week to notice it was there. My eyes swam with tears when I first noticed it. I had to sit down. I put my head between my knees and took a deep breath. I wish she didn’t have to leave.
Maddlie
fulll house. episode. cant tell babies apart. haha. in spy kits when little kids take your fingerprint.scanners ttell a persons idenitty through their finger print. everyones is different. it has little gooves that differentiate you from every single other person on this earth.
jake
When I try to imitate I feel just like a fingerprint, unique, alone and yet connected. The touch that is like no other connection.
imaginethepoet
Someday ago i got one of my fingerprints burned. That’s odd, i thought, will it grow back? How long will it take to grow back?
Brigis
the prints would tell it all. Who had completedthat wonderful fingerpainting so proudly displayed on the wall. for so long Karen ws not able to express her thoughts in words and she finally found a way to do so.
Lisa
I fingerprint my evidence, so that I can frame myself. Though I am not aware of my actions, my mind has secretly take action against me. I had commited that crime, that horrid crime that I had tricked myself into hating. Every part of myself had forgotten that terrible deed, all but…the unconcious of my mind.
Eric Harrell
You left your fingerprints on my heart. You left them all over my life, like a hastily-fled crime scene. And the worst thing is, no matter how hard I try to erase your influence, scrub away your mark on me, you are still there. You are still here with me.
Kate
A fingerprint is an identity. It says nothing about who you are, what you do, what your character is, but it’s defining none the less. We look at a lot of things like this nowadays. Clothes don’t say you are a good person. Neither does your car. But we judge people by it. I wish everything was as simple as your fingerprint, but it’s not.
Kelsey
my fingerprint. if grooves could tell a story, mine would speak volumes. swirling in and out, never intersecting. we could learn a thing or two.
julese
a genetic puzzle on ure hands
izzi mcdonagh
airport security
wildrabbit
When my fingerprint was discovered on the notebook that was left at the crimescene I began to panic. Cold beads of sweat began to form at the base of my neck and I shiftily looked around the room. I couldnt believe I had forgotten that one detail, the one thing that could connect me to the cheater.
Angela
the girl did not deserve to be there she did not sit in plain walls burying her in loneliness and anger no she did not stay there she did not stay there she was just a girl, a girl who did not belong under the weight of emptiness and anger.
April 2nd, 2009.
Christine Oania
did you know, your fingerprints let you grip things?
I wish i had spidy- sense…frickin sweet!
:)
Camille Dove
a print on your finger.used to enter secret places usually,and to identify those naughty people in prison.if you burn your hand accidentally (or on perpose) then you can never get them back.usually wriggly
naomi
I left my fingerprints all over the situation, and not in a good way, I suppose. My fingerprints left sticky rings around it, little sticky rings of passive-aggression and jealousy. But as I write this, I worry I am being too self-critical, because I left good fingerprints there as well – I left wit and thoughtful questions and hard listening. And maybe I evened the sticky mess out just a bit.
Kristy
it was only a trace left. like faint dust and a light kiss on the lips.
andrew
Every where i turned they were there. Hidden amongst the wall, the bed, the bra. But they were not mine, it was not me. It was someone else. The unholy fingerprints – caught red handed.
Beth
fingerprints –
I suppose I could pretend – think not of yours, but on the varied maps of flesh each finger holds or the resonance of a manifestation of human individuality in the espaces infinis or even just an occupation with badly written mystery novels. On rainy days like this, hidden away from the world and, often, my own thoughts, these clouded, oversentimental word frolics patter against the windows of my skull with the steady rhythm of the outside flood. And I let the flow take hold, a natural course, reflective without introspection, softly reminiscent of that origin of thought, what was it that troubled? Loss, love, life?
But your fingerprints – I miss
Josephine
We all have one and yet they are unique to each of us. Just like snowflakes, no two are the same. They can tell a lot about us, where we came from. Even if they are injured, they still tell who we are.
Aziza
you press your thumb to my throat and i wonder if a circle of dead skin cells has mimicked your beautiful fingerprint; the feel of your fingertips trailing across my hungry skin makes me yearn for more as i beg with big greedy eyes and my heart thrums in my limbs as well as bulging out of my chest working madly.
devin
When I think of fingerprints, I think of identity, and when I think about identity, I realize fingerprints are all that really distinguishes us in a place like this. It’s actually kind of sad. We’re not people, we’re numbers, we’re lines, and we’re lost in all that endless red tape.
Chuck Zimmerman
I just sat there looking at my fingerprints across the broken window. What have I done? I was just sitting there, when all of a sudden I erupted. Now the glass is shattered everywhere and I am wondering what went wrong. My hand is bleeding. I don’t know what to grab so it will stop. I hear sirens in the background.
Jena
my fingerprint was tained with ink due to all the stamping of warrants of arrests for fucking traffic offenders jeezuz I should’ve realised the that what I
fixator
I wish I could use a fingerprint dipped in thine blood to fully express my identity to the person I truly care for, an everlasting memory of true body.
The Herr Doktor
All humanoids have them. They are unique to each individual. Al Capone once tried to cut his off, but they grew back. They look sorta like little universes…
wundermary
one time i killed a guy, ate his liver, stole all his belongings and kicked his dog off a 20 foot balcony. i jizzed on his body, let multiple weapons i used to kill him lying around, had my blood, my nieces blood, my neighbors, and samples of my hair around, intentionally and the thing that got me was the fingerprint.
a fingeprint is what defines you as a human being. everyone has their own individual set of fingerprints and they can distinguish you from others by them.
evidence that you/I was there. I’ve left something behind, proof. you can’t deny me, or ignore me. but, you can wipe me away.
A fingerprint is pretty damn special if you ask me.
Why would humans have fingerprints if not for something important?
I think fingerprints are a great reminder of how special one person can be, after all almost every single fingerprint is different on everybody.
Sometimes it’s just a comforting though, I guess.
And for reference’s sake, I’m in a love with a certain Samantha.
its for a persons identity..it can help identifying criminals..its something individualistic..unique for evry person… it can also leave dirty marks on things…unfavourable for criminals
duno.. what do i say? they’r unique, n are hence used in a lot of modern criminal research and personal identification methods.. i love mine..
i wana sleep
Ooh, this reminds me of crime novels and DNA. Not sure why crime novels; maybe because I’ve just read one. ‘Careless in Red’ by Elizabeth George. An Inspector Lynley mystery. Very good. I recommend it to all of you. And it DOES mention finderprints.
fingerprints are mostly used for identification, since every fingerprint is unique for every person, they are very helpful in crime investigation. koalas also have fingerprints, which are very similar to that of a human.
you swirl around and tell me
that your name isn’t
what i thought it was,
and you aren’t
who i think you are,
you’re just a swirl,
nothing more, just a clear
tear droplet on my
fingertip.
(you burned away my sanity.)
We are all leaving fingerprints all the time. On the people we meet, on the things we touch, on the places we visit. Sometimes it’s unintentional but can have a massive impact on someone’s life. You probably mean more to some people than they do to you.
fingerprints are unique and individual. probably the only thing about a person that is, entirely. Personality, habits, even physical characteristics are derived from those around us, but our fingerprints are completely our own.
s are very unique. omg, i need to think. ooh! fingerprints…. remind me of katy perry? um… goodness i can’t remember. but how many unique fingerprints are out there, really? aren’t there too many people in the world to have a kajillion number of fingerprints? how many combinations of unique squiggles can be out there?
He stood, and he wrote, and he couldn’t help but notice the fingerprint dance on the gun. He looked at it forever, till time faded away and the gun dissolved into the memories of its victims. He’ll never forget, and she’ll never forget, but the fingerprint will always remain.
Paint. I love the gritty feeling of the tempera under my nails and in the grooves of my very identity. I swirl the reds and blues and greens and yellows together and combine things so concrete to create something so abstract.
She left a fingerprint on the coffe mug. It took me at least a week to notice it was there. My eyes swam with tears when I first noticed it. I had to sit down. I put my head between my knees and took a deep breath. I wish she didn’t have to leave.
fulll house. episode. cant tell babies apart. haha. in spy kits when little kids take your fingerprint.scanners ttell a persons idenitty through their finger print. everyones is different. it has little gooves that differentiate you from every single other person on this earth.
When I try to imitate I feel just like a fingerprint, unique, alone and yet connected. The touch that is like no other connection.
Someday ago i got one of my fingerprints burned. That’s odd, i thought, will it grow back? How long will it take to grow back?
the prints would tell it all. Who had completedthat wonderful fingerpainting so proudly displayed on the wall. for so long Karen ws not able to express her thoughts in words and she finally found a way to do so.
I fingerprint my evidence, so that I can frame myself. Though I am not aware of my actions, my mind has secretly take action against me. I had commited that crime, that horrid crime that I had tricked myself into hating. Every part of myself had forgotten that terrible deed, all but…the unconcious of my mind.
You left your fingerprints on my heart. You left them all over my life, like a hastily-fled crime scene. And the worst thing is, no matter how hard I try to erase your influence, scrub away your mark on me, you are still there. You are still here with me.
A fingerprint is an identity. It says nothing about who you are, what you do, what your character is, but it’s defining none the less. We look at a lot of things like this nowadays. Clothes don’t say you are a good person. Neither does your car. But we judge people by it. I wish everything was as simple as your fingerprint, but it’s not.
my fingerprint. if grooves could tell a story, mine would speak volumes. swirling in and out, never intersecting. we could learn a thing or two.
a genetic puzzle on ure hands
airport security
When my fingerprint was discovered on the notebook that was left at the crimescene I began to panic. Cold beads of sweat began to form at the base of my neck and I shiftily looked around the room. I couldnt believe I had forgotten that one detail, the one thing that could connect me to the cheater.
the girl did not deserve to be there she did not sit in plain walls burying her in loneliness and anger no she did not stay there she did not stay there she was just a girl, a girl who did not belong under the weight of emptiness and anger.
April 2nd, 2009.
did you know, your fingerprints let you grip things?
I wish i had spidy- sense…frickin sweet!
:)
a print on your finger.used to enter secret places usually,and to identify those naughty people in prison.if you burn your hand accidentally (or on perpose) then you can never get them back.usually wriggly
I left my fingerprints all over the situation, and not in a good way, I suppose. My fingerprints left sticky rings around it, little sticky rings of passive-aggression and jealousy. But as I write this, I worry I am being too self-critical, because I left good fingerprints there as well – I left wit and thoughtful questions and hard listening. And maybe I evened the sticky mess out just a bit.
it was only a trace left. like faint dust and a light kiss on the lips.
Every where i turned they were there. Hidden amongst the wall, the bed, the bra. But they were not mine, it was not me. It was someone else. The unholy fingerprints – caught red handed.
fingerprints –
I suppose I could pretend – think not of yours, but on the varied maps of flesh each finger holds or the resonance of a manifestation of human individuality in the espaces infinis or even just an occupation with badly written mystery novels. On rainy days like this, hidden away from the world and, often, my own thoughts, these clouded, oversentimental word frolics patter against the windows of my skull with the steady rhythm of the outside flood. And I let the flow take hold, a natural course, reflective without introspection, softly reminiscent of that origin of thought, what was it that troubled? Loss, love, life?
But your fingerprints – I miss
We all have one and yet they are unique to each of us. Just like snowflakes, no two are the same. They can tell a lot about us, where we came from. Even if they are injured, they still tell who we are.
you press your thumb to my throat and i wonder if a circle of dead skin cells has mimicked your beautiful fingerprint; the feel of your fingertips trailing across my hungry skin makes me yearn for more as i beg with big greedy eyes and my heart thrums in my limbs as well as bulging out of my chest working madly.
When I think of fingerprints, I think of identity, and when I think about identity, I realize fingerprints are all that really distinguishes us in a place like this. It’s actually kind of sad. We’re not people, we’re numbers, we’re lines, and we’re lost in all that endless red tape.
I just sat there looking at my fingerprints across the broken window. What have I done? I was just sitting there, when all of a sudden I erupted. Now the glass is shattered everywhere and I am wondering what went wrong. My hand is bleeding. I don’t know what to grab so it will stop. I hear sirens in the background.
my fingerprint was tained with ink due to all the stamping of warrants of arrests for fucking traffic offenders jeezuz I should’ve realised the that what I
I wish I could use a fingerprint dipped in thine blood to fully express my identity to the person I truly care for, an everlasting memory of true body.
All humanoids have them. They are unique to each individual. Al Capone once tried to cut his off, but they grew back. They look sorta like little universes…
one time i killed a guy, ate his liver, stole all his belongings and kicked his dog off a 20 foot balcony. i jizzed on his body, let multiple weapons i used to kill him lying around, had my blood, my nieces blood, my neighbors, and samples of my hair around, intentionally and the thing that got me was the fingerprint.