A printer prints. Prints are patterns, prints on paper, prints on fabric. Animals have prints. Leopard spots. Zebra stripes.
Claudia
WTF I JUST DID THIS ONE?!?!!?!?!??!?! anyways I looooove cookies on pickle salads mmmmmmmmmm theyre just so yummalicious and oooooohhhh so tiny and wonderful (thats what she said) and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
molly
“Four thousand copies, ok, but don’t tell anyone. These are supposed to be exclusive prints, one of a kind, you know. But hey, the world’s a big place. What’s a few extras? Anyway, who wouldn’t want a limited edition print of a cat eating a mouse? Someone’s gotta make a killing.”
There are so many prints out there in the world that cover everything. Prints on animals that tell you what exactly they are, from zebras to cheetahs to even humans. There are prints on clothes, whether it be stripes or dots.
Sayuri
Paper comes out of a printer, with words typed out by someone in ink on the paper. THE END
!!!!! Also those are what deer make in the snow in the wintertime :3
Also a homophone of prince, sorta. blah blah blah blah blah blah blah b
molly
The prints missing from my office. I had no design for the presentation. It was time to panic. This is why no one likes Steve.
Remember that summer we spent out by the lake? The nights of sleeping under the stars, my head on your chest and our hearts beating slowly to the same beat. The kisses we swapped as the sun rose above us and the memories we made.
prints on paper, prints on clothes. zebra print on the sheets i’m laying on right now. the world is printed, the world is painted. the world is pampered, the world is sedated. prints on your curtains, prints on your shoes. prints at the market and prints at the zoo. the next time you see a zebra, tell him hi. tell him that his zebra print is quite fly. prints rule the world.
rebecca singleton
Prints are interesting things in life: foot prints, hand prints, finger prints. They are a tracking device. They show us where we have been, but they give hint at where we are going. They remind us of our humble beginnings while keeping us chasing our lofty aspirations that shape who we were, are, and who we are becoming.
I’ll write to you with my hybrid print. Ascribing infinitely the words I can’t speak, but mentally scream. My words could blanket this world, twice over, as I write for you.
prints. At first I thought it said pants. lawl. Anyways prints! When I hear this word, I think of ink on paper. Thick parchment and a quill. There goes my Harry Potter side. I really am rubbish at this word. Oh dear, I am sorry. This is so short. That’s what she said.
prints an odd word it makes me think of many letters in books cluttering in my head and flying about like leaves in different fonts and langauges i love the idea it puts in my head i shall think of the word prints more often now thanks to this it makes a smile on my face.
Jack Rys
The soft sound of the endless sheets of papers hitting the printer signals the end of a journey. Each paper must endure the many stages of industrial printing, and thus there must be some sort of bond, right? To leave the hive, and venture out on their own.
Something like that anyway.
prints on a page.
words.
faces.
lives.
hidden.
open.
edited.
prints on a page.
printed life.
on a page.
jen kin
i love when my pictures print they are so beautiful. when i print my prints I have to do them pretty much as soon as I take the picture or else I will try and make it better when it is already better. I hope this is a good thing ; other than that prints mean nothing to me
Chanel
printing printing, what a waste of ink and what a waste of my time. i cant afford to print all these essays the same way my hips are too small and too sore to walk everywhere so quickly. i want to ride clouds with you, lay on them and rest in the sky till it rains and ride the water back to the ground and remain saturated in the earth.
Judy Keylani
prints at first i saw penis i don’t know why i saw penis really we all just live in a destroyed world, really terrible world where we’re all in the gutter, but it’s fun. I’m going to hell but so is everyone else. i think we’re in hell, i’m in hell in this finance class. I’m ready to leave, i signed the attendance sheet.
kat
Dozens of beautifully colored strips of paper lay piled around her in an organized chaos. she lifted each one in turn, flipping them to their back sides so they would dry an even texture. She had the lights on dim, to avoid altering the colors she had worked so long and used so many dyes to make. As the papers began to dry she began to tear them into smaller strips and pieces to make her end result. she worked witht he prints for hours, wading through a moss of soggy paper until, before her very eyes, artwork unfolded. It was as if she was only the messenger, allowing it to come to the world. It wanted to be there. She looked around her and all she saw was a room full of beautiful, faceless people made of prints. All of them looked so different and so lost in their own emotions that she smiled, for they were her and she was them.
The room practically overflowed with his floral prints. They were the drapes, the walls, and even the ceiling! By the time he invited me to sit, my eyes were exhausted.
are the paper of my records. pictures and photographs i never developed or never learned how to. tehres so much i havent learned, and so much more that i want to listen and write about and see and love. i dont feel like ill ever have the energy to print out my life. or record it or anything. when will i have the time to sleep when will i actually sleep.
Judy Keylani
Stamps are fun prints used to decorate an area or to emphasize a positive outcome. Stamps are positively sanctioned as something fun for children, but sometimes the prints that stamps form are inappropriate and do not belong in certain areas.
Diana
The prints lay in the trail as a reminder of Sal’s past. Where he’d been, Where he was going. All he had to do was erase them.
Charlie
i cant explain what happens
when you look at me
deep within me somewhere, an unknown world beyond my imagination,
fireworks
bright colors exploding,
reaching out their sparkling fingers,
illuminating…
beautiful.
torn to pieces,
shattered,
but for once i don’t mind.
i like this pain.
i am crying, but my tears are tears of joy.
face upturned,
looking into the sun,
i am not afraid.
a ghost breaths on my neck and whispers in my ear.
its cold winds surround me,
but when you hug me,
i feel nothing but warmth.
i am not beautiful.
i have too many flaws to count.
but when i’m in your arms it doesn’t matter.
i forget myself.
i forget how i’m supposed to act, what i’m supposed to do.
the fire melts
it leaves behind a puddle of ice
i sink and drown,
breathing death.
i cling to you and the way you look at me…
i float,
a cloud,
a bubble,
and i rise from the water,
bursting into the light,
watching my memories and tears rain down in every direction.
let the world have them and do with them as they please.
i don’t care when im staring into your eyes
i soar into the sky,
flying past the stars and into a world beyond,
jumping into your arms
and feeling pure,
amazing
joy.
Melanie
Thousands upon thousands of pieces of paper fall from the sky. I reach my hands up and grab one. I hold it up to my face. Only to find it completely blank. Except for one small star in the lower left hand corner.
Isabella
The permanent print that you have left on my life, and in my heart. I print that I will forever remember and always feel. All because of you.
photographic prints lined her walls, coloring her room black and white and red and love. she took them all herself, some from exotic trips to the neverlands and some from crisp autumn bike trips around her own neighborhood; they ranged from scenic lined with green foliage and strangely dreamy forests to the lights of life in coffee shops and rain puddles, and it was so, so her.
The puppy prints are muddy throughout the house. An excited little dog wags her tail at me. She likes my face and I can’t help but to smile.
Muddypawprints
there are many types of paw prints that dogs have. they did a study to see how many people could recognize a dog print. it turns out only about 83 percent could tell that they were looking at a dog print. this can be
juhihgbuhg
The ugly animal prints that whores and old women wear. Hm, what a correlation. Also, the obnoxious school printers that never print because they are either a.) out of paper or b.) out of ink. Or technology just hates me. And now I’ve gone from prints to technologies hatred of me. What an odd thought process I have. This probably isn’t healthy. Oh well. Is my 60 seconds up yet? Guess not…I must type much faster than I thought.
Kayla
it was as clear as the neat, black print on my essay for english.
it was as simple as the lab i had done in biology.
it was as powerful as the story of the american revolution in history.
it was as easy to understand as my homework for algebra.
it was as unique as the sketch i had made in drawing.
it was as beautiful as the skit i had preformed in drama.
yes.
i was in love.
but with who?
Melanie
like copies i guess.
the same design over, and over and over again.
different colors mean different emotions
but that’s boring.
i’d rather paint something new.
There are all sorts of prints: cloth patterns, foot prints, finger prints, fonts.Its one of those words that can be completely loaded or completely meaningless. It’s hard to imagine a world without prints though. I immedatley come to mind the prints of animal tracks in the snow. How peaceful and simple the little feet and hooves make the tracks. How those tracks, those prints, can lead to their rescue or lead to their demise. Then there is the idea of fingerprints and how a child’s fingerprints can help find them in case of kiddnapping, but can also cause the person who took them to get arrested. Such a simple word, yet so very promblematic and polarizing.
Jackie
I sat down on the bench, the warm prints of ink still in my hand. Reading was my new favourite pass time and I wish I could have done it more often. When I read, my world would turn into theirs and create endless possibilities and my imagination would run free and wild.
Like it did when I was a child.
Splotchy little drops of ink that fall in a line down the curve of my spine. My body is a road map of places you’ve been. Your hands leave touches that no one can see but I will always feel, imprinted on me forever.
Prints of my love ones make prints in my heart that prints a lifetime of loving prints that prints eternity of loving prints to loving hearts
Dlc
paper, ink like wicked hints of history and i can’t see development, you see it’s who we are it’s evidence that we have written something here and something here is something near for we have only been in one relation, one carnation flower, this hour is almost up but who will remember
A printer prints. Prints are patterns, prints on paper, prints on fabric. Animals have prints. Leopard spots. Zebra stripes.
WTF I JUST DID THIS ONE?!?!!?!?!??!?! anyways I looooove cookies on pickle salads mmmmmmmmmm theyre just so yummalicious and oooooohhhh so tiny and wonderful (thats what she said) and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
“Four thousand copies, ok, but don’t tell anyone. These are supposed to be exclusive prints, one of a kind, you know. But hey, the world’s a big place. What’s a few extras? Anyway, who wouldn’t want a limited edition print of a cat eating a mouse? Someone’s gotta make a killing.”
There are so many prints out there in the world that cover everything. Prints on animals that tell you what exactly they are, from zebras to cheetahs to even humans. There are prints on clothes, whether it be stripes or dots.
Paper comes out of a printer, with words typed out by someone in ink on the paper. THE END
!!!!! Also those are what deer make in the snow in the wintertime :3
Also a homophone of prince, sorta. blah blah blah blah blah blah blah b
The prints missing from my office. I had no design for the presentation. It was time to panic. This is why no one likes Steve.
Coyote prints mark the wet ground where we walk in my daydreams.
On a mountain so peaceful with the city shut out.
Seagull prints mark the wet sand where we walk in my daydreams. On a beach so peaceful with the California breeze.
Remember that summer we spent out by the lake? The nights of sleeping under the stars, my head on your chest and our hearts beating slowly to the same beat. The kisses we swapped as the sun rose above us and the memories we made.
prints on paper, prints on clothes. zebra print on the sheets i’m laying on right now. the world is printed, the world is painted. the world is pampered, the world is sedated. prints on your curtains, prints on your shoes. prints at the market and prints at the zoo. the next time you see a zebra, tell him hi. tell him that his zebra print is quite fly. prints rule the world.
Prints are interesting things in life: foot prints, hand prints, finger prints. They are a tracking device. They show us where we have been, but they give hint at where we are going. They remind us of our humble beginnings while keeping us chasing our lofty aspirations that shape who we were, are, and who we are becoming.
I’ll write to you with my hybrid print. Ascribing infinitely the words I can’t speak, but mentally scream. My words could blanket this world, twice over, as I write for you.
prints. At first I thought it said pants. lawl. Anyways prints! When I hear this word, I think of ink on paper. Thick parchment and a quill. There goes my Harry Potter side. I really am rubbish at this word. Oh dear, I am sorry. This is so short. That’s what she said.
What they are, are my own. My foot prints. My finger prints. My writing prints. They are my own and you cannot have them.
prints an odd word it makes me think of many letters in books cluttering in my head and flying about like leaves in different fonts and langauges i love the idea it puts in my head i shall think of the word prints more often now thanks to this it makes a smile on my face.
The soft sound of the endless sheets of papers hitting the printer signals the end of a journey. Each paper must endure the many stages of industrial printing, and thus there must be some sort of bond, right? To leave the hive, and venture out on their own.
Something like that anyway.
Go! Flyers! Go forth end educate!
prints on a page.
words.
faces.
lives.
hidden.
open.
edited.
prints on a page.
printed life.
on a page.
i love when my pictures print they are so beautiful. when i print my prints I have to do them pretty much as soon as I take the picture or else I will try and make it better when it is already better. I hope this is a good thing ; other than that prints mean nothing to me
printing printing, what a waste of ink and what a waste of my time. i cant afford to print all these essays the same way my hips are too small and too sore to walk everywhere so quickly. i want to ride clouds with you, lay on them and rest in the sky till it rains and ride the water back to the ground and remain saturated in the earth.
prints at first i saw penis i don’t know why i saw penis really we all just live in a destroyed world, really terrible world where we’re all in the gutter, but it’s fun. I’m going to hell but so is everyone else. i think we’re in hell, i’m in hell in this finance class. I’m ready to leave, i signed the attendance sheet.
Dozens of beautifully colored strips of paper lay piled around her in an organized chaos. she lifted each one in turn, flipping them to their back sides so they would dry an even texture. She had the lights on dim, to avoid altering the colors she had worked so long and used so many dyes to make. As the papers began to dry she began to tear them into smaller strips and pieces to make her end result. she worked witht he prints for hours, wading through a moss of soggy paper until, before her very eyes, artwork unfolded. It was as if she was only the messenger, allowing it to come to the world. It wanted to be there. She looked around her and all she saw was a room full of beautiful, faceless people made of prints. All of them looked so different and so lost in their own emotions that she smiled, for they were her and she was them.
The room practically overflowed with his floral prints. They were the drapes, the walls, and even the ceiling! By the time he invited me to sit, my eyes were exhausted.
are the paper of my records. pictures and photographs i never developed or never learned how to. tehres so much i havent learned, and so much more that i want to listen and write about and see and love. i dont feel like ill ever have the energy to print out my life. or record it or anything. when will i have the time to sleep when will i actually sleep.
Stamps are fun prints used to decorate an area or to emphasize a positive outcome. Stamps are positively sanctioned as something fun for children, but sometimes the prints that stamps form are inappropriate and do not belong in certain areas.
The prints lay in the trail as a reminder of Sal’s past. Where he’d been, Where he was going. All he had to do was erase them.
i cant explain what happens
when you look at me
deep within me somewhere, an unknown world beyond my imagination,
fireworks
bright colors exploding,
reaching out their sparkling fingers,
illuminating…
beautiful.
torn to pieces,
shattered,
but for once i don’t mind.
i like this pain.
i am crying, but my tears are tears of joy.
face upturned,
looking into the sun,
i am not afraid.
a ghost breaths on my neck and whispers in my ear.
its cold winds surround me,
but when you hug me,
i feel nothing but warmth.
i am not beautiful.
i have too many flaws to count.
but when i’m in your arms it doesn’t matter.
i forget myself.
i forget how i’m supposed to act, what i’m supposed to do.
the fire melts
it leaves behind a puddle of ice
i sink and drown,
breathing death.
i cling to you and the way you look at me…
i float,
a cloud,
a bubble,
and i rise from the water,
bursting into the light,
watching my memories and tears rain down in every direction.
let the world have them and do with them as they please.
i don’t care when im staring into your eyes
i soar into the sky,
flying past the stars and into a world beyond,
jumping into your arms
and feeling pure,
amazing
joy.
Thousands upon thousands of pieces of paper fall from the sky. I reach my hands up and grab one. I hold it up to my face. Only to find it completely blank. Except for one small star in the lower left hand corner.
The permanent print that you have left on my life, and in my heart. I print that I will forever remember and always feel. All because of you.
i don’t think of much as i head into kinkos. i stop concentrating on things, stop my mind from wandering too far.
“three hundred copies,” i say, and the cashier looks at me grimly as he reads the flyer.
BOY MISSING.
photographic prints lined her walls, coloring her room black and white and red and love. she took them all herself, some from exotic trips to the neverlands and some from crisp autumn bike trips around her own neighborhood; they ranged from scenic lined with green foliage and strangely dreamy forests to the lights of life in coffee shops and rain puddles, and it was so, so her.
The puppy prints are muddy throughout the house. An excited little dog wags her tail at me. She likes my face and I can’t help but to smile.
there are many types of paw prints that dogs have. they did a study to see how many people could recognize a dog print. it turns out only about 83 percent could tell that they were looking at a dog print. this can be
The ugly animal prints that whores and old women wear. Hm, what a correlation. Also, the obnoxious school printers that never print because they are either a.) out of paper or b.) out of ink. Or technology just hates me. And now I’ve gone from prints to technologies hatred of me. What an odd thought process I have. This probably isn’t healthy. Oh well. Is my 60 seconds up yet? Guess not…I must type much faster than I thought.
it was as clear as the neat, black print on my essay for english.
it was as simple as the lab i had done in biology.
it was as powerful as the story of the american revolution in history.
it was as easy to understand as my homework for algebra.
it was as unique as the sketch i had made in drawing.
it was as beautiful as the skit i had preformed in drama.
yes.
i was in love.
but with who?
like copies i guess.
the same design over, and over and over again.
different colors mean different emotions
but that’s boring.
i’d rather paint something new.
There are all sorts of prints: cloth patterns, foot prints, finger prints, fonts.Its one of those words that can be completely loaded or completely meaningless. It’s hard to imagine a world without prints though. I immedatley come to mind the prints of animal tracks in the snow. How peaceful and simple the little feet and hooves make the tracks. How those tracks, those prints, can lead to their rescue or lead to their demise. Then there is the idea of fingerprints and how a child’s fingerprints can help find them in case of kiddnapping, but can also cause the person who took them to get arrested. Such a simple word, yet so very promblematic and polarizing.
I sat down on the bench, the warm prints of ink still in my hand. Reading was my new favourite pass time and I wish I could have done it more often. When I read, my world would turn into theirs and create endless possibilities and my imagination would run free and wild.
Like it did when I was a child.
Splotchy little drops of ink that fall in a line down the curve of my spine. My body is a road map of places you’ve been. Your hands leave touches that no one can see but I will always feel, imprinted on me forever.
Prints of my love ones make prints in my heart that prints a lifetime of loving prints that prints eternity of loving prints to loving hearts
paper, ink like wicked hints of history and i can’t see development, you see it’s who we are it’s evidence that we have written something here and something here is something near for we have only been in one relation, one carnation flower, this hour is almost up but who will remember