I had looked and looked. I thought all the classes, forums and lectures would bring me the answer, that I would find some type of an outlet for my frustration. None of them were suitable, I found it only in her.
It was my outlet; writing things and posting pictures that revealed my innermost interests on a site that nobody would notice. It was just for me, until she found it. I deleted my account, restarted. Just for me again. Then another one found it. I changed my name and hid it away. And then I showed it to him. For the first time, I haven’t changed the name, though, everything screams for me too. I’m torn between wanting to let him in and wanting to slam the door to my heart shut. Only time will tell what I will do, though I hope for once I’m brave enough to let at least one person see how I really feel.
A creative outlet is an important thing in life. Without it, you are left with over-analysis – trapped by the practicality of life that does nothing to feed your soul.
Allison
outlet. wish i had one. place for release.
Andrea
You’re a plug and I’m socket. We used to fit together so perfectly. Then one day someone bent you out of shape. Now we no longer work together. The others told me there will be other plugs, but it’s not the same is it?
And what about you, will you ever find another outlet?
there was this storefront where this outlet appeared stunning to me, something captured my eye for some reason. was it the brightly illuminated characters in front? or the chime of the serene music. there was something that i needed to explore about this place, something that was teasing my mind; my mind inclined to pry at why it was so intriguing…
will muller
The first time I met my husband the electricity between us was so strong it felt like I put my finger in an electrical outlet.
paulie aragon
I have no outlet for the pain I feel that is brewing deep inside. I want to scream, but there are too many ears to ear. I want to fight, but there isn’t anything to physically hurt or hit. I wish there was a way for me to get this anguish out, but I must live with it until it destroys me.
my outlet? writing. just like this. i’m supposedly sober from cutting, so i write. legitimately EVERY DAY. i have a dA account, on which i completely spam my watchers’ inboxes with writing whenever i’m in the mood. i’m only kind of good, but you know, it’s an outlet.
Maggie
My expression. My form of release. This is my outlet for all of the creative energy that is crowding my cortext. This is an extension of my soul. My words, my art, my creation, my life.
Carys Matic
She went to the outlet store to get some good deals. It started to rain. She went home.
Lisa
A WAY TO EXPRESS. SOMETHING THAT ALLOWS US TO BE WHO WE REALLY ARE. AN ESCAPE. A RELEASE. A DIRECTION IN WHICH TO MOVE FORWARD AND OUT OF A SET POSITION.
MICHELLE
Kitchen outlets make for good photographs. They epitomize the quirkiness of mundane joys. Ballet is an outlet. Not a kitchen outlet, but an outlet nonetheless. Something they share in common is they both drain energy as long as something is plugged into them even if it is not on.
Jane
so that you can turn the light on when you come home, so that you can unplug the phone when you don’t want to answer to anyone about anything. i don’t know what an outlet is – i know it exists literally as a socket. i know that it exists figuratively as some sort of emotional channel that i often reference but do not recognize that i use as often as anyone else. a creative outlet. an emotional outlet. a physical outlet. these things are essential.
anna
There’s an outlet store called sitadel where i used to live. This guy named David works at one of those stores. Aww I miss that outlet. It was pretty cool and all. Cheap stuff too! I remember one time there was snow there, well fake one but still! It was Awesome! Well there’s a train for little kids as well
Anahi Hernandez
When Rusty was little he was fixated with electrical outlets. I used to joke that he would either be “an electrician, or electrocuted”. One night he did shove something in an outlet, and probably was shocked. He could not tell me, perhaps he was only two or so at the time, but he was giving that “hurt” cry and pointing towards the outlet. I was scared but partially relieved, too, I knew it might dissuade him from his odd fascination.
Laura
I must not be wired correctly. I try to plug into an outlet, but there’s no current to greet me. Think I’ll go lay out in the sun and see if I can’t recharge that way.
Today sitting down at the computer seemed like the best thing for Nora now. She felt she could use this place to write as an outlet for her sadness. If only she had more time to prepare herself for tomorrow…
Jordan
i need a new outlet for letting out my anger. beating up my little brother isn’t working anymore.
she wonders if really, she’s just using him, using him as an outlet. does he really care, listen to her spiels she go on? are his bright eyes a figment of her imagination? it worries her to know that she might be fooling herself all this time.
secret base
place to let go of things, plug in yourself your thoughts your emotions. an outlet? a water source. tears falling finally into a place willing to collect them. outlet. plug in something, get an inverse. inverse functions, nothing to do with outlets.
morgan
so i have this problem that there are two outlets near my bed and I always have three things that I want to plug in. so let’s say that i want to straighten my hair and watch gossip girl and be able to see… i cannot do all of these things at the same time because either my computer is plugged in or there is light or my hair straightner not all three
Jordan Deutsch
Yesterday Nora visited the outlet mall. She enjoyed walking from store to store in mist of the cool spring breeze. She needed to find a blue scarf for her wedding next month.
Jordan
I plugged my iTouch into the wall. As usual, I had drained the batteries, letting the sooth sound of the music comfort me. It was all I needed right now… I just had to wait until the outlet did it’s job, and charged my happiness.
College Life: The outlet is crispy with scent. I don’t know what people are doing in the bathroom, but it always smells like someone has greased themselves up and stuck their finger in the electrical outlet. I think this is a dangerous thing to do, but perhaps it fries the brain cells in the right way or creates an awesome hair-do.
I didn’t know where this went. I just knew it needed to be plugged into something. I ran over to my room, excited, no, I was waiting for something exciting to happen. What? I still don’t know. An outlet is what I needed. Not only for this device, but for the emotions I’ve been bottling up.
Izzy
Outlet malls and cement sidewalks
Back to school and out to lunch
Hiking trails and wind blown trees
You can wear sequence if you want
Let it out
Malls. What you yell to your teamate after a rebound. Where you plus things in to. A way out of something.
evan
The outlet mall was full of cut-off jean and tie-dyed short wearing, and mullet haired people as they scurried to get to the sales. They were carrying babies and pushing strollers, mowing through anything in their path.
JuJu
Tried to plug in the blender but the outlet wasn’t working. Unplugged the toaster to try that outlet, and again was left with no way to make my fucking smoothie. WHY aren’t the outlets in my kitchen operating correctly????? WTF is this outlet? It’s not even the right shape. . .
Oh yeah. I’m in Europe and don’t have the right adaptor
Elle
Writing was an outlet.
Now it is an addiction.
The physical act of writing has become an addiction.
When I planned on writing about an addiction, I did not want to replace one addiction with another.
There’s an outlet on my wall charging my laptop and my phone. It’s connected to the light switch and only works if it’s turned on, but I can’t remember if that means it’s a series or parallel circuit. The outlet is broken, but it works for all of my needs at least…
Kerstin
There is an outlet store in front of Billy. He wasn’t terribly fond of those. He found them rather odd, to be honest. For some reason the garish pink walls and shampoo scents never appealed to him. The attendants were always teenage girls, too hyper to really be maintaining a business. None of that mattered however, this was his task.
Peter
It’s a place for that anger and rage that builds up inside of you. It’s a secret, really; no one save the owner’s friends know of this place, so quiet and serene. All it is is a run down old U-Haul, the small size, that appears to have gone through all sorts of hell to get out into the middle of the desert. But that’s okay, because the people that seek refuge in it are just as worn as the truck itself. That’s sad, much more sad than you can understand, because all these people are young as you and I and much, much older.
plugs go into it. go into it. haha, slut. it kind of looks like a little man with the mouth and the eyes and stuff. I was kind of thinking i was going to write something deep.. oh well.
Stephanie
They need an outlet for the longing behind the words, beneath the games, between the meetings.
outlet … im let you out baby I love you and the fire will never leave no dout in my mind your the prefcet dime my heart is like a chime in the wid and it will never go way baby baby i love the
chelsie
a place where people gather, a plus outlet for electricity, an outlet could be anything that provides current for people, electricity, impulses, reactions, and chains of reaction, out – let, let-out, time to be let out, theres always time to leave, its not mandatory
I had looked and looked. I thought all the classes, forums and lectures would bring me the answer, that I would find some type of an outlet for my frustration. None of them were suitable, I found it only in her.
It was my outlet; writing things and posting pictures that revealed my innermost interests on a site that nobody would notice. It was just for me, until she found it. I deleted my account, restarted. Just for me again. Then another one found it. I changed my name and hid it away. And then I showed it to him. For the first time, I haven’t changed the name, though, everything screams for me too. I’m torn between wanting to let him in and wanting to slam the door to my heart shut. Only time will tell what I will do, though I hope for once I’m brave enough to let at least one person see how I really feel.
Once we were lovers
Until you became bitter
Ten thousand words
Lends us a picture
Embolden yourself
To let us once more melt
A creative outlet is an important thing in life. Without it, you are left with over-analysis – trapped by the practicality of life that does nothing to feed your soul.
outlet. wish i had one. place for release.
You’re a plug and I’m socket. We used to fit together so perfectly. Then one day someone bent you out of shape. Now we no longer work together. The others told me there will be other plugs, but it’s not the same is it?
And what about you, will you ever find another outlet?
there was this storefront where this outlet appeared stunning to me, something captured my eye for some reason. was it the brightly illuminated characters in front? or the chime of the serene music. there was something that i needed to explore about this place, something that was teasing my mind; my mind inclined to pry at why it was so intriguing…
The first time I met my husband the electricity between us was so strong it felt like I put my finger in an electrical outlet.
I have no outlet for the pain I feel that is brewing deep inside. I want to scream, but there are too many ears to ear. I want to fight, but there isn’t anything to physically hurt or hit. I wish there was a way for me to get this anguish out, but I must live with it until it destroys me.
my outlet? writing. just like this. i’m supposedly sober from cutting, so i write. legitimately EVERY DAY. i have a dA account, on which i completely spam my watchers’ inboxes with writing whenever i’m in the mood. i’m only kind of good, but you know, it’s an outlet.
My expression. My form of release. This is my outlet for all of the creative energy that is crowding my cortext. This is an extension of my soul. My words, my art, my creation, my life.
She went to the outlet store to get some good deals. It started to rain. She went home.
A WAY TO EXPRESS. SOMETHING THAT ALLOWS US TO BE WHO WE REALLY ARE. AN ESCAPE. A RELEASE. A DIRECTION IN WHICH TO MOVE FORWARD AND OUT OF A SET POSITION.
Kitchen outlets make for good photographs. They epitomize the quirkiness of mundane joys. Ballet is an outlet. Not a kitchen outlet, but an outlet nonetheless. Something they share in common is they both drain energy as long as something is plugged into them even if it is not on.
so that you can turn the light on when you come home, so that you can unplug the phone when you don’t want to answer to anyone about anything. i don’t know what an outlet is – i know it exists literally as a socket. i know that it exists figuratively as some sort of emotional channel that i often reference but do not recognize that i use as often as anyone else. a creative outlet. an emotional outlet. a physical outlet. these things are essential.
There’s an outlet store called sitadel where i used to live. This guy named David works at one of those stores. Aww I miss that outlet. It was pretty cool and all. Cheap stuff too! I remember one time there was snow there, well fake one but still! It was Awesome! Well there’s a train for little kids as well
When Rusty was little he was fixated with electrical outlets. I used to joke that he would either be “an electrician, or electrocuted”. One night he did shove something in an outlet, and probably was shocked. He could not tell me, perhaps he was only two or so at the time, but he was giving that “hurt” cry and pointing towards the outlet. I was scared but partially relieved, too, I knew it might dissuade him from his odd fascination.
I must not be wired correctly. I try to plug into an outlet, but there’s no current to greet me. Think I’ll go lay out in the sun and see if I can’t recharge that way.
Today sitting down at the computer seemed like the best thing for Nora now. She felt she could use this place to write as an outlet for her sadness. If only she had more time to prepare herself for tomorrow…
i need a new outlet for letting out my anger. beating up my little brother isn’t working anymore.
she wonders if really, she’s just using him, using him as an outlet. does he really care, listen to her spiels she go on? are his bright eyes a figment of her imagination? it worries her to know that she might be fooling herself all this time.
place to let go of things, plug in yourself your thoughts your emotions. an outlet? a water source. tears falling finally into a place willing to collect them. outlet. plug in something, get an inverse. inverse functions, nothing to do with outlets.
so i have this problem that there are two outlets near my bed and I always have three things that I want to plug in. so let’s say that i want to straighten my hair and watch gossip girl and be able to see… i cannot do all of these things at the same time because either my computer is plugged in or there is light or my hair straightner not all three
Yesterday Nora visited the outlet mall. She enjoyed walking from store to store in mist of the cool spring breeze. She needed to find a blue scarf for her wedding next month.
I plugged my iTouch into the wall. As usual, I had drained the batteries, letting the sooth sound of the music comfort me. It was all I needed right now… I just had to wait until the outlet did it’s job, and charged my happiness.
College Life: The outlet is crispy with scent. I don’t know what people are doing in the bathroom, but it always smells like someone has greased themselves up and stuck their finger in the electrical outlet. I think this is a dangerous thing to do, but perhaps it fries the brain cells in the right way or creates an awesome hair-do.
I didn’t know where this went. I just knew it needed to be plugged into something. I ran over to my room, excited, no, I was waiting for something exciting to happen. What? I still don’t know. An outlet is what I needed. Not only for this device, but for the emotions I’ve been bottling up.
Outlet malls and cement sidewalks
Back to school and out to lunch
Hiking trails and wind blown trees
You can wear sequence if you want
Let it out
She dragged my arm. Painfully.
“God damn it, must you be so enthusiastic? I just don’t understand you.”
“Hurry up, loser! All the good stuff will be gone!”
And off we went to the fashion outlet.
Malls. What you yell to your teamate after a rebound. Where you plus things in to. A way out of something.
The outlet mall was full of cut-off jean and tie-dyed short wearing, and mullet haired people as they scurried to get to the sales. They were carrying babies and pushing strollers, mowing through anything in their path.
Tried to plug in the blender but the outlet wasn’t working. Unplugged the toaster to try that outlet, and again was left with no way to make my fucking smoothie. WHY aren’t the outlets in my kitchen operating correctly????? WTF is this outlet? It’s not even the right shape. . .
Oh yeah. I’m in Europe and don’t have the right adaptor
Writing was an outlet.
Now it is an addiction.
The physical act of writing has become an addiction.
When I planned on writing about an addiction, I did not want to replace one addiction with another.
There’s an outlet on my wall charging my laptop and my phone. It’s connected to the light switch and only works if it’s turned on, but I can’t remember if that means it’s a series or parallel circuit. The outlet is broken, but it works for all of my needs at least…
There is an outlet store in front of Billy. He wasn’t terribly fond of those. He found them rather odd, to be honest. For some reason the garish pink walls and shampoo scents never appealed to him. The attendants were always teenage girls, too hyper to really be maintaining a business. None of that mattered however, this was his task.
It’s a place for that anger and rage that builds up inside of you. It’s a secret, really; no one save the owner’s friends know of this place, so quiet and serene. All it is is a run down old U-Haul, the small size, that appears to have gone through all sorts of hell to get out into the middle of the desert. But that’s okay, because the people that seek refuge in it are just as worn as the truck itself. That’s sad, much more sad than you can understand, because all these people are young as you and I and much, much older.
plugs go into it. go into it. haha, slut. it kind of looks like a little man with the mouth and the eyes and stuff. I was kind of thinking i was going to write something deep.. oh well.
They need an outlet for the longing behind the words, beneath the games, between the meetings.
outlet … im let you out baby I love you and the fire will never leave no dout in my mind your the prefcet dime my heart is like a chime in the wid and it will never go way baby baby i love the
a place where people gather, a plus outlet for electricity, an outlet could be anything that provides current for people, electricity, impulses, reactions, and chains of reaction, out – let, let-out, time to be let out, theres always time to leave, its not mandatory