Mecca.
A place of pilgrimage.
A travel full of self exploration and discovery.
Did technology and development help with that?
maybe.
maybe… not.
A mechanism of self discovery could be a person’s real mecca.
He didn’t want to flip the switch and change his tune. Mired in depression, self pity and anxiety was his comfort zone. He had been taught the way to change that and it made him uncomfortable. Positivity. Serenity. It was easier to get angry at life and everything in it.
Can we understand the mechanisms of our minds? Science would suggest so, but as we delve deep into ourselves, with each passing day, we realize what a mystery we are, even to our own selves. And so we seek to pass those deep doors of our minds and understand the beautiful mystery of ourselves within. Onward, we search, over mountains and in classrooms, sometimes in silent prayer and in deep moments of pondering. Our hearts elude us, for our hearts are embedded within many people, many places, many experiences.
kmomilani
like robots, we act as a result of our programming. survival kicks in and we are moved to act by unseen forces. they are how things happen; how we happen.
Aahh! What can I write about a mechanism? This is making my brain hurt. Oh! My brain! It’s a mechanism! Well kinda. It’s an awesome machine more complicated than any computers in existence. There. There are my thoughts on mechanisms. Bye!
Victoria
a human being. a part of a society. a unified mechanism tick-tocking life away. when time goes away, you meet a wall at the end of the street. where to, now?
Mechanism, what was that one word. Reese wasn’t sure if they were talking about the mechanisms of a car or what. That’s what it sounded like. Ugh she was going to flunk her science test and it was all because of that one dumb little big word. Her parents were going to kill her and she wouldn’t be able to see her best friends until college.
jessie
Human being in society is a part of a huge industrial mechanism tick-tocking his time away until one day you realize time has gone away and there is only an empty wall in front of you.
le_procyon
All she wanted was for the tiny device to work its magic. She knew once the mechanism was functioning, everything would be set right again.
He stared at the gears, turning slowly. He could hear the clinks as the cogs hit each other. He traced his hand across the cool metal. The precision of the machine, the complexity of it. What could it do?
Melissa
The boy stared. What was it for? The mechanism loomed over the city, glaring at him with sightless eyes.
Oh boy, let me tell you about mechanisms. Prior to this year of school, I had no idea of HOW LITTLE I KNEW about Biochemical mechanisms. I have a degree in biochemistry from an amazing school and it’s impressive how much I still do not know. Gotta get them reps in.
Ryan
We are all working based on some pretty simple mechanisms. Well, not so simple if you look at your body an how your blood rushes through your veines. or when you think about your brain, which is an absolutely wonderfull mechanism itself. A brain thinking about itself and how it might work. Crazy
Morpheus. Morph. To change. Like popping through to the other side, but not on the assembly line. It’s more expansive than that. This mechanism. The exercise in execution.
A project
influencing designs
to create stable cities, that function.
But how? With its invisible citizens, eating invisible pastries, riding invisibly
on the train?
The train? It starts underground, and the rail runs to the surface and back down by ramp, reaching through all parts of the city like poison ivy weaving above and below, inside and out. Since the city’s invisible citizens can barely use their legs, they need to be freighted. There are more tracks than road. Their walk looks like that feeling of thick sand around your thighs in your slowest dream of running. You feel like you’re running as fast as you can, but you’re just going too slow.
Some tracks lead nowhere. And nowhere in an invisible city is as lost as you can be. You could die from directionlessness. Unless you know the city’s secret. There are signs placed sporadically, invisibly written in a transparent language. At one time, the letters were darkly engraved, bold, prominent. They were the letters of a language so clear, so natural, that it was the only universal tongue in history. And at one time, readers would find the right track to take, to get where they were trying to be.
But as the city faded in time’s reflection, so did the ink and the city. Now, not many seeable things are left, beyond the restless dust unsettled by the trains’ invisible drift. To get out, you need to see these signs. You won’t have to worry about learning the language once you do, because that’s the omnipotence of a universal language: it transcends any barrier, including time. But how to make these invisible signs viewable.
That’s the secret to the secret. You carry a visible mirror with you to capture a reflection of the invisible signs’ directions in reverse, and another mirror to read the reflection of the first. And that’s the deepest beauty of an invisible city, an simple, underlying mechanism, like a mirror, that defines the entire city.
we didn’t know how it worked, but we knew it was reliable and predictable. every morning and evening we could hear the movements of the gears or what we imagined were gears, something grinding behind the walls…
Gears click
turn like tops
pulling heartstrings to center
where they snap back
to start
all over again
Chelsea
The sole mechanism for moving forward,she discovered, was love. It is what moved her world forward, against all adds and every dimension of distraction. Love, as unmechanical as it is…
mechanism is a way of doing things. it is defining of a plan a way a process has to be carried out.
Ajay Yadav
“Will you please just leave me alone?!” she said and started crying. And I just stood there, because I just realized that it’s not like in the movies, being pushy and keep asking someone out won’t really work. It was actually sort of like a mechanism for me, if someone turned me down, I kept asking them. But seeing her sitting there, actually crying, just because I couldn’t take a no, sent a wave of shame trough my body. ´”I’ll just .. Go then” I said, and then I left her.
This is a word. It’s a very technical word. One that deals the -isms of mechanics. It is industrial. It is straight forward. It is a word. It inspires. It depresses. It uplifts, and it ruins. It is the creator of all problems and successes in every field of life. It is the widget of a dark wizard named Carl who lives in his mother’s basement. Carl likes Doritos and Sun Drop.
Stephen
The was a scientist. Pure genius. Ever since he was a little boy, he dreamed of making the
ultimate machine. A mechanism that could help you with anything. Brushing your teeth, homework, mowing the lawn.
Razan
He looked at the mechanism before him. It was large and white, it has ten spikes at the top, and opened at the back. What was it? It must be here to make his life better. To create a new reality. That’s why he turned to push the big red button that said “on”.
The mechanism was stuck. I tried hard to get my hand in there – wiggle it- but nothing happened. I sat back and screamed at the top of my lungs, then slammed my palm on the side of the machine. Pop! Whirr! It’s working!
When we do things over & over again it’s mechanism. Life is sometimes a mechanic one too eat, work & sleep. One must challenge the mechanics of the society, to rebel is the right of any human…
i can wax poetic about the curve of your smile
the moonshine of your skin the charcoal of your eyes
the bells of your laughter
the rumble of your moans
the sweetness of your movements the steel in your voice
but i would just be making up for what i dont understand
i dont really know what draws me to you
you just do
(i dont really want to work it out
even if god tells me i could)
You and I were built to meld
and function together well.
If only you had given me the chance
to hold your heart in my tender hands-
we would have created the perfect machine.
But common sense is foreign,
you don’t know what I mean.
Mechanism, a learning mechanism, writing mechanism… the list goes on.
Some form or way to help you bring out your abilities and talents to further enhance an identity.
Heart beating, blood rushing in
and out of veins
Pushing, pulling memories along with emotion
Forcing you to feel it all
Enabling your ability to feel it all
The little hollow cube shouldn’t have been so heavy. There was no mechanism to open it, no crack or seam to suggest that it had been assembled. The cube was as natural as the sun, not made but there. It was hollow, but something was inside.
Pulmonic air stream mechanism. Something like that. High fi to linguistics! Mechanism reminds me of my favourite subject in my Masters class. It also reminds of mechanics, and I’ll forever remember this word because this is my first ever word in Oneword.com. Gosh, I need some more time! This activity is not easy. A guest speaker introduced me to this concept today. I think it’s very interesting.
The mechanics of writing solving such exercises should bring about some change in one’s writing style. I figured a loophole in this activity. Everytime I commit an error in the details and come back to this page, the matter does not get erased. So everytime I come back I gain one additional minute. Not cool.
S.T.
It grinds and winds and winds, sadly, late at night, not tired at all
Ki'El
poverty is bad
a ‘mechanism’ of man
as was apartheid
Great Thembu chief and leader and legend is born
Madiba
Name and clan and source of pride is in
Madiba
Grand president and leader and hero
Mandela
Xhosan, African, apotheosis of a Human
For his life and struggle and inspiration
We love and thank our
Madiba
limiting a response to violence is bad
but often more so limiting it to peace
each is a ‘mechanism’, good, when used
WISELY.
Thee Apothe'sis
By what means did You put us here?
Through what mechanism did we come to be?
Were we born of love?
Or necessity?
Or were we born of curiosity?
Brandon Steward
Not very good with mechanics. Mechanism can mean so many things. Machinery has mechanisms, your body, your mind even. Not an easy one……….
I don’t understand the corporate mechanism – they tell you we matter but ultimately the business comes first. Always comes first. Which is funny considering the ‘business’ is made up of single, individual units like us, building each painstaking block at a time.
Mecca.
A place of pilgrimage.
A travel full of self exploration and discovery.
Did technology and development help with that?
maybe.
maybe… not.
A mechanism of self discovery could be a person’s real mecca.
He didn’t want to flip the switch and change his tune. Mired in depression, self pity and anxiety was his comfort zone. He had been taught the way to change that and it made him uncomfortable. Positivity. Serenity. It was easier to get angry at life and everything in it.
Can we understand the mechanisms of our minds? Science would suggest so, but as we delve deep into ourselves, with each passing day, we realize what a mystery we are, even to our own selves. And so we seek to pass those deep doors of our minds and understand the beautiful mystery of ourselves within. Onward, we search, over mountains and in classrooms, sometimes in silent prayer and in deep moments of pondering. Our hearts elude us, for our hearts are embedded within many people, many places, many experiences.
like robots, we act as a result of our programming. survival kicks in and we are moved to act by unseen forces. they are how things happen; how we happen.
Aahh! What can I write about a mechanism? This is making my brain hurt. Oh! My brain! It’s a mechanism! Well kinda. It’s an awesome machine more complicated than any computers in existence. There. There are my thoughts on mechanisms. Bye!
a human being. a part of a society. a unified mechanism tick-tocking life away. when time goes away, you meet a wall at the end of the street. where to, now?
Mechanism, what was that one word. Reese wasn’t sure if they were talking about the mechanisms of a car or what. That’s what it sounded like. Ugh she was going to flunk her science test and it was all because of that one dumb little big word. Her parents were going to kill her and she wouldn’t be able to see her best friends until college.
Human being in society is a part of a huge industrial mechanism tick-tocking his time away until one day you realize time has gone away and there is only an empty wall in front of you.
All she wanted was for the tiny device to work its magic. She knew once the mechanism was functioning, everything would be set right again.
He stared at the gears, turning slowly. He could hear the clinks as the cogs hit each other. He traced his hand across the cool metal. The precision of the machine, the complexity of it. What could it do?
The boy stared. What was it for? The mechanism loomed over the city, glaring at him with sightless eyes.
Oh boy, let me tell you about mechanisms. Prior to this year of school, I had no idea of HOW LITTLE I KNEW about Biochemical mechanisms. I have a degree in biochemistry from an amazing school and it’s impressive how much I still do not know. Gotta get them reps in.
We are all working based on some pretty simple mechanisms. Well, not so simple if you look at your body an how your blood rushes through your veines. or when you think about your brain, which is an absolutely wonderfull mechanism itself. A brain thinking about itself and how it might work. Crazy
If she knew exactly which mechanism to push when it came to getting a certain man to communicate with her she would.
Morpheus. Morph. To change. Like popping through to the other side, but not on the assembly line. It’s more expansive than that. This mechanism. The exercise in execution.
mechanism //
A project
influencing designs
to create stable cities, that function.
But how? With its invisible citizens, eating invisible pastries, riding invisibly
on the train?
The train? It starts underground, and the rail runs to the surface and back down by ramp, reaching through all parts of the city like poison ivy weaving above and below, inside and out. Since the city’s invisible citizens can barely use their legs, they need to be freighted. There are more tracks than road. Their walk looks like that feeling of thick sand around your thighs in your slowest dream of running. You feel like you’re running as fast as you can, but you’re just going too slow.
Some tracks lead nowhere. And nowhere in an invisible city is as lost as you can be. You could die from directionlessness. Unless you know the city’s secret. There are signs placed sporadically, invisibly written in a transparent language. At one time, the letters were darkly engraved, bold, prominent. They were the letters of a language so clear, so natural, that it was the only universal tongue in history. And at one time, readers would find the right track to take, to get where they were trying to be.
But as the city faded in time’s reflection, so did the ink and the city. Now, not many seeable things are left, beyond the restless dust unsettled by the trains’ invisible drift. To get out, you need to see these signs. You won’t have to worry about learning the language once you do, because that’s the omnipotence of a universal language: it transcends any barrier, including time. But how to make these invisible signs viewable.
That’s the secret to the secret. You carry a visible mirror with you to capture a reflection of the invisible signs’ directions in reverse, and another mirror to read the reflection of the first. And that’s the deepest beauty of an invisible city, an simple, underlying mechanism, like a mirror, that defines the entire city.
we didn’t know how it worked, but we knew it was reliable and predictable. every morning and evening we could hear the movements of the gears or what we imagined were gears, something grinding behind the walls…
Gears click
turn like tops
pulling heartstrings to center
where they snap back
to start
all over again
The sole mechanism for moving forward,she discovered, was love. It is what moved her world forward, against all adds and every dimension of distraction. Love, as unmechanical as it is…
mechanism is a way of doing things. it is defining of a plan a way a process has to be carried out.
“Will you please just leave me alone?!” she said and started crying. And I just stood there, because I just realized that it’s not like in the movies, being pushy and keep asking someone out won’t really work. It was actually sort of like a mechanism for me, if someone turned me down, I kept asking them. But seeing her sitting there, actually crying, just because I couldn’t take a no, sent a wave of shame trough my body. ´”I’ll just .. Go then” I said, and then I left her.
This is a word. It’s a very technical word. One that deals the -isms of mechanics. It is industrial. It is straight forward. It is a word. It inspires. It depresses. It uplifts, and it ruins. It is the creator of all problems and successes in every field of life. It is the widget of a dark wizard named Carl who lives in his mother’s basement. Carl likes Doritos and Sun Drop.
The was a scientist. Pure genius. Ever since he was a little boy, he dreamed of making the
ultimate machine. A mechanism that could help you with anything. Brushing your teeth, homework, mowing the lawn.
He looked at the mechanism before him. It was large and white, it has ten spikes at the top, and opened at the back. What was it? It must be here to make his life better. To create a new reality. That’s why he turned to push the big red button that said “on”.
The mechanism was stuck. I tried hard to get my hand in there – wiggle it- but nothing happened. I sat back and screamed at the top of my lungs, then slammed my palm on the side of the machine. Pop! Whirr! It’s working!
When we do things over & over again it’s mechanism. Life is sometimes a mechanic one too eat, work & sleep. One must challenge the mechanics of the society, to rebel is the right of any human…
i can wax poetic about the curve of your smile
the moonshine of your skin the charcoal of your eyes
the bells of your laughter
the rumble of your moans
the sweetness of your movements the steel in your voice
but i would just be making up for what i dont understand
i dont really know what draws me to you
you just do
(i dont really want to work it out
even if god tells me i could)
You and I were built to meld
and function together well.
If only you had given me the chance
to hold your heart in my tender hands-
we would have created the perfect machine.
But common sense is foreign,
you don’t know what I mean.
Mechanism, a learning mechanism, writing mechanism… the list goes on.
Some form or way to help you bring out your abilities and talents to further enhance an identity.
Heart beating, blood rushing in
and out of veins
Pushing, pulling memories along with emotion
Forcing you to feel it all
Enabling your ability to feel it all
The little hollow cube shouldn’t have been so heavy. There was no mechanism to open it, no crack or seam to suggest that it had been assembled. The cube was as natural as the sun, not made but there. It was hollow, but something was inside.
And it wanted out.
The mechanism ground to a rasping, shuddering halt, and he peered into the gears with his hands on his hips. “Sand,” he said. “Sand again.”
Pulmonic air stream mechanism. Something like that. High fi to linguistics! Mechanism reminds me of my favourite subject in my Masters class. It also reminds of mechanics, and I’ll forever remember this word because this is my first ever word in Oneword.com. Gosh, I need some more time! This activity is not easy. A guest speaker introduced me to this concept today. I think it’s very interesting.
The mechanics of writing solving such exercises should bring about some change in one’s writing style. I figured a loophole in this activity. Everytime I commit an error in the details and come back to this page, the matter does not get erased. So everytime I come back I gain one additional minute. Not cool.
It grinds and winds and winds, sadly, late at night, not tired at all
poverty is bad
a ‘mechanism’ of man
as was apartheid
Great Thembu chief and leader and legend is born
Madiba
Name and clan and source of pride is in
Madiba
Grand president and leader and hero
Mandela
Xhosan, African, apotheosis of a Human
For his life and struggle and inspiration
We love and thank our
Madiba
limiting a response to violence is bad
but often more so limiting it to peace
each is a ‘mechanism’, good, when used
WISELY.
By what means did You put us here?
Through what mechanism did we come to be?
Were we born of love?
Or necessity?
Or were we born of curiosity?
Not very good with mechanics. Mechanism can mean so many things. Machinery has mechanisms, your body, your mind even. Not an easy one……….
The world turned, a simple clock mechanism. Counting each kiss and love lost.
I don’t understand the corporate mechanism – they tell you we matter but ultimately the business comes first. Always comes first. Which is funny considering the ‘business’ is made up of single, individual units like us, building each painstaking block at a time.
The mechanism jammed on the third try, rendering the gate immovable.
“Quick!” she shouted, sweaty strands of her hair sticking to her face. “I’ll hold them off.” A note of desperation surfaced in her voice. “Just… run.”