an object is me. the society made me this object of distruction and sadnes, but what can i do, i will remain by myself, alone with a sad smile on my old looking 188year old face
The hook. The object that was so firmly planted in my forearm after my daughter made her 5th attempt at casting her Minnie Mouse fishing pole, proved that this fishing trip was not only a bad idea, but also a small victory for my child because she had finally caught something.
In a universe so large, Earth is merely an object being tossed around in organized chaos. Not paying any more attention to us than another planet, star or being…
I wrapped my hands around it
I clasped my fingers close
gently
thoroughly
slipping into every crevice and every crack
filling the spaces in between it
completing it.
Caitlin Vasta
It’s a little impossible. It’s a little impossible to take someone like you and not reduce you to ashes. Your hands are on fire; your eyes are too bright. I can’t picture you in my mind without turning you into an object. But you make a beautiful, beautiful thing.
Myona
I am not an object, just the image my brain sees in a mirror, a photograph… but not really me… you know Me… I don’t and then I am an object…
Aren’t we all objects in a way?
Annemarie
This object attracted my attention. What is this? I have never seen anything like this before. It seemed from the other world and was filled with unusual beauty and magic. It looked like something that can absorb you if you occasionally touch it, and even look at it was painful.
Nadia
the object of my affection is someone who shouldent be there i have a bf and i love hin dearly but i should not be feeling the way about another . if i even do feel they way i think i do im not really sure what to do or how to act .
mona
The globe was like any other I have ever seen. It was small, with no particular color. It had hues of pinks, purples, blues, reds, and greens, that seem to swirl in spiral, endlessly. It was hypnotizing, almost to the point, I lost all senses. I could not hear anything, nor feel the smooth texture of the globe, I could see the swirling pattern of colors.
Nell
The object was sitting on the table while Mary watched it and looked out the window and then she got up and looked out another window and saw the object again and started to freak because she had no idea what it was. The object moved and she screamed and the object started to chase her when she ran. The object than laughed and told her she was silly for running because it was just a dog.
Rene
An object is a thing, a thing you can touch an feel. It can also be something that you target. The word of the day, is in a way an object. Though you cannot touch it, it is still a target.
an object, it may be circular, it may not. We do not yet understant it’s presence here, or how it came to be. We may never know, but for now we can observe it changes of being. What will it become, and if it endangers us, where will I rest? What will become of me and my frog?
emily
Sitting there. Staring at me. It has no brain, no thoughts, no emotions. But it just keeps staring. And I can do nothing but continue to hold its gaze, in the hopes of winning this never ending battle.
Megan
I’m not loved. I might just be an object. Nobody loves me. He doesn’t care. I love him and I am strong but he doesn’t care. Object. I’m just an object.
And sometimes I just love him.
I love his smile, his freckles, his beautiful brown eyes… I want to kiss his freckles, I’d love to kiss his freckles and shoulders and back and arms… I want to love him, and be loved.
But I’m merely an object.
L
It was an object just like any other but then it popped, it crackled and it popped open, Inside lay a small blanket. I starred at the blanket, what the heck? I slowly leaned down and opened the blanket and inside was a small little baby Pokemon.
surrounded by these inanimate witnesses they curve,crumble and cast their eyes over my little life – some want more witnesses, others fewer- keep me light!
Diana Flyingsouth
I walked along the river bed and found a small object stuck in the ground. Well I thought it was small in actuality is was a piece of a large boat that was sticking out of the sand. Little did I know that it was going to change my life.
E
you were not that to me, but i was it to you. when you looked at me you saw something, and when i looked at you i saw someone. therein lies the difference. i wanted you to see, but i realized you never would, and so i left. because you are not something, i wish i would’ve told you goodbye.
erin m
An object is ultimately anything that is non-sentient. Anything around you that is not sentient is merely an object, no matter how animated it may appear.
Ultimately an object is something that is not sentient. Everything around you that is incapable of thought is merely an object in the world, no matter how animated it appears.
Justin Dalton
the object on which we strive for
is really no object at all
linens, jewels are wanted to feel beautiful
love and kisses are desired
to feel accepted
drugs, smoke are done
to feel alive
and we all just want to feel
desperately, we’ll go to any measure to find
that pleasure that will
satisfy the void
The object of her interest was a blue orb around the size of a marble. It glowed an eerie, sea green color and gave off an aura of familiarity. Raine was sure that she’d never seen this orb before, but something about made her think of the past. Memories began to circulate and she tore her eyes from the object before her head began to throb.
“What is this thing, Kryce?” she hissed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s giving me a headache.”
The elder mage took the item from her fingers, wrapped it in a roll of gauze, and pocketed it in his robes.
the object is anything that exists around the world like pen,pencil,paper,house,land mass,water in sea etc it has shape as well as remain shapeless
parameswari
There was an object in her purse when she struck me i knew she was not a sweet old lady she was a mean grouchy grandma who had no heart.
As i lay on the ground holding my head she stood over me with her purse ready to whip me again and again.
an object is me. the society made me this object of distruction and sadnes, but what can i do, i will remain by myself, alone with a sad smile on my old looking 188year old face
I have many objects
The hook. The object that was so firmly planted in my forearm after my daughter made her 5th attempt at casting her Minnie Mouse fishing pole, proved that this fishing trip was not only a bad idea, but also a small victory for my child because she had finally caught something.
a object for a class so you can get a good grade!!!!!
i own a object that many people do not have.
if i had an object i would be the luckiest kid in the world especially if i had something justin bieber
In a universe so large, Earth is merely an object being tossed around in organized chaos. Not paying any more attention to us than another planet, star or being…
i was holding an object to day
I wrapped my hands around it
I clasped my fingers close
gently
thoroughly
slipping into every crevice and every crack
filling the spaces in between it
completing it.
It’s a little impossible. It’s a little impossible to take someone like you and not reduce you to ashes. Your hands are on fire; your eyes are too bright. I can’t picture you in my mind without turning you into an object. But you make a beautiful, beautiful thing.
I am not an object, just the image my brain sees in a mirror, a photograph… but not really me… you know Me… I don’t and then I am an object…
Aren’t we all objects in a way?
This object attracted my attention. What is this? I have never seen anything like this before. It seemed from the other world and was filled with unusual beauty and magic. It looked like something that can absorb you if you occasionally touch it, and even look at it was painful.
the object of my affection is someone who shouldent be there i have a bf and i love hin dearly but i should not be feeling the way about another . if i even do feel they way i think i do im not really sure what to do or how to act .
The globe was like any other I have ever seen. It was small, with no particular color. It had hues of pinks, purples, blues, reds, and greens, that seem to swirl in spiral, endlessly. It was hypnotizing, almost to the point, I lost all senses. I could not hear anything, nor feel the smooth texture of the globe, I could see the swirling pattern of colors.
The object was sitting on the table while Mary watched it and looked out the window and then she got up and looked out another window and saw the object again and started to freak because she had no idea what it was. The object moved and she screamed and the object started to chase her when she ran. The object than laughed and told her she was silly for running because it was just a dog.
An object is a thing, a thing you can touch an feel. It can also be something that you target. The word of the day, is in a way an object. Though you cannot touch it, it is still a target.
an object, it may be circular, it may not. We do not yet understant it’s presence here, or how it came to be. We may never know, but for now we can observe it changes of being. What will it become, and if it endangers us, where will I rest? What will become of me and my frog?
Sitting there. Staring at me. It has no brain, no thoughts, no emotions. But it just keeps staring. And I can do nothing but continue to hold its gaze, in the hopes of winning this never ending battle.
I’m not loved. I might just be an object. Nobody loves me. He doesn’t care. I love him and I am strong but he doesn’t care. Object. I’m just an object.
And sometimes I just love him.
I love his smile, his freckles, his beautiful brown eyes… I want to kiss his freckles, I’d love to kiss his freckles and shoulders and back and arms… I want to love him, and be loved.
But I’m merely an object.
It was an object just like any other but then it popped, it crackled and it popped open, Inside lay a small blanket. I starred at the blanket, what the heck? I slowly leaned down and opened the blanket and inside was a small little baby Pokemon.
surrounded by these inanimate witnesses they curve,crumble and cast their eyes over my little life – some want more witnesses, others fewer- keep me light!
I walked along the river bed and found a small object stuck in the ground. Well I thought it was small in actuality is was a piece of a large boat that was sticking out of the sand. Little did I know that it was going to change my life.
you were not that to me, but i was it to you. when you looked at me you saw something, and when i looked at you i saw someone. therein lies the difference. i wanted you to see, but i realized you never would, and so i left. because you are not something, i wish i would’ve told you goodbye.
An object is ultimately anything that is non-sentient. Anything around you that is not sentient is merely an object, no matter how animated it may appear.
Ultimately an object is something that is not sentient. Everything around you that is incapable of thought is merely an object in the world, no matter how animated it appears.
the object on which we strive for
is really no object at all
linens, jewels are wanted to feel beautiful
love and kisses are desired
to feel accepted
drugs, smoke are done
to feel alive
and we all just want to feel
desperately, we’ll go to any measure to find
that pleasure that will
satisfy the void
The object of her interest was a blue orb around the size of a marble. It glowed an eerie, sea green color and gave off an aura of familiarity. Raine was sure that she’d never seen this orb before, but something about made her think of the past. Memories began to circulate and she tore her eyes from the object before her head began to throb.
“What is this thing, Kryce?” she hissed, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s giving me a headache.”
The elder mage took the item from her fingers, wrapped it in a roll of gauze, and pocketed it in his robes.
“An orb from the Chain of Memories.”
the object is anything that exists around the world like pen,pencil,paper,house,land mass,water in sea etc it has shape as well as remain shapeless
There was an object in her purse when she struck me i knew she was not a sweet old lady she was a mean grouchy grandma who had no heart.
As i lay on the ground holding my head she stood over me with her purse ready to whip me again and again.