a futuristic robot travels through a space-time road,
and belives that he can pave his way,
to another, brighter day
with his own mental navigational spirit,
he clinks his wine glass with his partners,
and dreams it, thinks it, and paves it.
The world tumbled in blurred colors and lights too bright for my eyes. I was falling, falling, falling. As I fall, I try and grab some of the swirling images. And then it all stops. I look around, blinded by the brightness. Once my eyes adjust, I notice a city, a futuristic city.
The whole chrome and steel aesthetic was making her nervous. She tried to pull her sweater closer to her body. It wasn’t cold, per se, but she felt chills move up and down her skin like a small beetle.
Valuable info. Lucky me I discovered your website by chance, and I am shocked why this accident didn’t came about earlier!
I bookmarked it.
Augustyn Czubak
The old lady sat there. Eating her Taco Supreme, alone, her future on earth very short indeed. Two girls sat at the table in front of her. She saw the back of one, including one arm heavily tattooed. She saw the front of the other, a greedy face, sly expressions crossing it, and tattooed on every visible place of her skin. She kept reaching over and grabbing things from her friend. A little packet of hot sauce, her friend’s smart phone, her friend’s hand as it was lifting food to her mouth. She was coming on to her friend sexually but not for the sex particularly, or not entirely, not at that moment, but for the attention, the affection, the affirmation. So insecure, poor big flashy girl, and not very smart at all. The old lady sat back after her last bite of taco. Most of it seemed to be between her teeth. So unfair, she thought, I’m so much smarter, I was so much more attractive, I wouldn’t stick needles in my skin or anyone else’s, why is all of it in front of her, and so little of it in front of me?
Joanna Bressler
The theatre is futuristic steel and glass sturctuer
Jason
Stilted, like the petals of a flower I’ve wilted, tilted in this inverse world that I call
Home? It’s hard to tell anymore – what does it mean, what is it all
Four? weeks from now a brand new month, empty as the list of words that rhyme with
August, not enough, a whole clock full of minutes and moments to
Stuff, all of the things that occupy my mind into one little day on the calendar, one little
Block of time I have to rhyme before that bell chimes it’s
Here, in front of me and in both hands – empty and full as they make their last
Stand against the present – the future, a present, when everything ends and everything
Begins.
Futuristic depends on what you call it. The fact that I am pressing buttons on a device made of metals and hyper complex micro processes just to talk silently about the fact that this is futuristic is futuristic in itself, is it not?
Anastasia
I couldn’t tell what the plot of the movie was when I walked on set, but I could certainly hazard a guess that it was meant to be futuristic. In one corner, a group of men and women were crowded around a prototype of what was meant to be a spaceship, tinkering away at its body. The film’s director – a stout red-headed woman known for her epic sci-fi sagas – was speaking with one of the actors, wildly gesticulating during the conversation.
Belinda Roddie
Pada segala kesempatan di mana ia berkontemplasi, Taeyong menyadari dunia terus bergerak maju. Teknologi berkembang. Bukan tidak mungkin hologram jadi kebutuhan sehari-hari. Pemikiran akan masa depan hanya mengendap di otaknya, bertanya-tanya apakah di suatu masa yang tidak pasti tersebut ia dapat membersamai Doyoung.
What I might be doing in the future. What will have to my kids and their kids. It is also kind of a what we hope for. I hope fothe best for things.
Ryan Shelton
Chrome and chaotic and impossible
Impossibly erroneous ego
Erotically eating expired evenings
Even more the moors mourn much more
Making mud made martyrs melting in maddening minutes
My micro mic with white sound sounds the sea
Sinking in saline solution, sandy shoes, shaking shins shatter
Slowly diving down, drowning deep, dangerous dares
Darken days to follow,
Fantastic fake futile future for frauds
You, eating soy and checking your fucking fb profile all day long, you have a very futuristic view of things.
The future is full of tiny soy beans checking their fucking fb profiles.
You, eating soy and checking your fucking fb profile all day long, you have a very futuristic view of thing.
The future is full of soy beans checking their fucking fb profiles.
a futuristic robot travels through a space-time road,
and belives that he can pave his way,
to another, brighter day
with his own mental navigational spirit,
he clinks his wine glass with his partners,
and dreams it, thinks it, and paves it.
The world tumbled in blurred colors and lights too bright for my eyes. I was falling, falling, falling. As I fall, I try and grab some of the swirling images. And then it all stops. I look around, blinded by the brightness. Once my eyes adjust, I notice a city, a futuristic city.
The whole chrome and steel aesthetic was making her nervous. She tried to pull her sweater closer to her body. It wasn’t cold, per se, but she felt chills move up and down her skin like a small beetle.
Valuable info. Lucky me I discovered your website by chance, and I am shocked why this accident didn’t came about earlier!
I bookmarked it.
The old lady sat there. Eating her Taco Supreme, alone, her future on earth very short indeed. Two girls sat at the table in front of her. She saw the back of one, including one arm heavily tattooed. She saw the front of the other, a greedy face, sly expressions crossing it, and tattooed on every visible place of her skin. She kept reaching over and grabbing things from her friend. A little packet of hot sauce, her friend’s smart phone, her friend’s hand as it was lifting food to her mouth. She was coming on to her friend sexually but not for the sex particularly, or not entirely, not at that moment, but for the attention, the affection, the affirmation. So insecure, poor big flashy girl, and not very smart at all. The old lady sat back after her last bite of taco. Most of it seemed to be between her teeth. So unfair, she thought, I’m so much smarter, I was so much more attractive, I wouldn’t stick needles in my skin or anyone else’s, why is all of it in front of her, and so little of it in front of me?
The theatre is futuristic steel and glass sturctuer
Stilted, like the petals of a flower I’ve wilted, tilted in this inverse world that I call
Home? It’s hard to tell anymore – what does it mean, what is it all
Four? weeks from now a brand new month, empty as the list of words that rhyme with
August, not enough, a whole clock full of minutes and moments to
Stuff, all of the things that occupy my mind into one little day on the calendar, one little
Block of time I have to rhyme before that bell chimes it’s
Here, in front of me and in both hands – empty and full as they make their last
Stand against the present – the future, a present, when everything ends and everything
Begins.
Futuristic depends on what you call it. The fact that I am pressing buttons on a device made of metals and hyper complex micro processes just to talk silently about the fact that this is futuristic is futuristic in itself, is it not?
I couldn’t tell what the plot of the movie was when I walked on set, but I could certainly hazard a guess that it was meant to be futuristic. In one corner, a group of men and women were crowded around a prototype of what was meant to be a spaceship, tinkering away at its body. The film’s director – a stout red-headed woman known for her epic sci-fi sagas – was speaking with one of the actors, wildly gesticulating during the conversation.
Pada segala kesempatan di mana ia berkontemplasi, Taeyong menyadari dunia terus bergerak maju. Teknologi berkembang. Bukan tidak mungkin hologram jadi kebutuhan sehari-hari. Pemikiran akan masa depan hanya mengendap di otaknya, bertanya-tanya apakah di suatu masa yang tidak pasti tersebut ia dapat membersamai Doyoung.
everything is shiny, sometimes apocalyptic, sometimes grim
the hopes and dreams of our futures,
reflect our current fears.
who knows.
What I might be doing in the future. What will have to my kids and their kids. It is also kind of a what we hope for. I hope fothe best for things.
Chrome and chaotic and impossible
Impossibly erroneous ego
Erotically eating expired evenings
Even more the moors mourn much more
Making mud made martyrs melting in maddening minutes
My micro mic with white sound sounds the sea
Sinking in saline solution, sandy shoes, shaking shins shatter
Slowly diving down, drowning deep, dangerous dares
Darken days to follow,
Fantastic fake futile future for frauds
You, eating soy and checking your fucking fb profile all day long, you have a very futuristic view of things.
The future is full of tiny soy beans checking their fucking fb profiles.
You, eating soy and checking your fucking fb profile all day long, you have a very futuristic view of thing.
The future is full of soy beans checking their fucking fb profiles.
The world has changed a lot, moving into a futuristic era, maily because of technology.
The world is always changing and turning into a futuristic way of life. It has happend because of technology.