there are two types of real. there is shallow real and deep real. shallow real is knowing something. deep real is understanding. shallow real is like oh that girl has a nice skirt i bet it’s gucci. deep real is thinking about how she may have gotten that skirt and why and who she was with.
Aimee Lemon
Real, were flooded with it, our eyes gleaming as we look into the clutter on the planet, the hunger, the waste, and then we turn away, unable to stand the absolute horror of our greed.
What is real? Feelings, thoughts, actions. But all can be faked.
PetitePommes
Oh that? Yeah, that wasn’t real. That my friend, was a computer simulation. Yeah, you were pretty good, until you got that bullet in your face. Honestly, what was that? Anyway, we’re sending you back in, you ready for it?
laughter as she inches all the bit closer
the stories you tell about these things
mere fiction, i thought
but in this moment, so real
but when it passes
and she gets out of my bed
away from my lovelorn sheets
stained from loneliness
it will be fiction
like the stories we tell
when we feel like we need
a blanket to wrap around us.
Matty M.
real is a fake term in my eyes nobody can be real and nothing is really real, everything has a veil of fakeness to it, in some aspect or in some way nothing is ever truly real
Julie
Not artificial or pseud like in catcher in the rye – solid, concrete, joyous
Lesley
There are a lot of real things and unreal things in life. The trick is to be able to tell them apart. And you think some people are being genuine when they look at you and they smile but sometimes it’s not so. Sometimes people have ulterior motives and they’re not being real. You have to get good at telling the difference.
Modesta
Real. Reality. This is real. This website is real. This laptop is real. The internet is real. This chair I’m sitting on is real. This house is real. I am real. My family is real. My consciousness is real. My sleep is real. My dreams are not. My thoughts are not. My fantasies are not. What is real?
Jade
there is a thin line separating the real from the imaginary. thinner than mother’s pancake mix. oh those pancakes. with warm butter melting on top. are they real?
chris
its the moment when you notice something iwth out thinking about it feeling relaxed asuured and in a state of memory where things seem as though they are reall and alive with passion and sonic freeze ack and then i beleive i am that of aperson who can be real with air so fresh that t breaths against your skin in amassive does if hydrogen and romantic kissed and then you wake up and realize its not real
nicole
I didn’t know whether this was real or my imagination. All lot of things are in my imagination, I make a lot of things up. And who could blame me? The real world is dull.
Georgia
real. there isnt much of this out there it seems like. to find one person you believe yourself to be real around is a blessing in itself. especially when you arent sure what is real about yourself. many times what seems real is a reflection of what we wish to be real but is not
grace
is this real? he said
i dont’ think so, if this were real we aren’t even here,,,
Oh… So i don’t really love you?
Zoni
because I’m not, because i have an orange peel in my pocket, but you’re not allowed to touch it, because I let no other fingers in my pocket, once my almost-boyfriend placed his hands just so, and we watched ourselves watching ourselves in the mirror, that was real, even though reflected, i think i know the difference, that was real
Stephanie
There could be no doubt no there possibilities this was the one and only the original and unequaled this was the true form of all this was truth incarnate and it was something that no skeptic could ever wish to debunk rebuke or refute there was no way that anyone could deny
Rojas
I tried so hard to accomplish being true to myself and at the end of the day I lost everyone I knew and everything I owned. I’m “real” now. That’s fantastic- but I’m no longer whole.
the images that wash by
the two little balls in your head
rotate around in a pocket of fluid
and send little electrical pulses buzzing
until your mind rationalizes
ONE WORD. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE IS LIKE ONE WORD. I CAN’T STAND LIFE SOMETIMES . ITS GETS TO BE REALLY HARD. AND ALL I CAN THINK OF IS JUST ONE WORD. I CAN’T STAND LIFE SOMETIMES I JUST WANT TO DIE AND I DON’T WANT TO TBE HERE ANYMORE. I DON’T WANT TO THINK. I DON’T WANT TO STRESS. I DON’T WANT MONEY. I WANT TO LIVE. LIVE FREE AND HAPPY FOREVER.
BROOKELYNNE THOMPSON
what is real? is the table i lean against here? or are we just living a dream? are my feelings real? or are they just my genes working away looking out for their survival? I dont know? Who knows?
Oh wow. Real. What is real? It’s a hard word to define and even harder so to think about. Especially if you’re thinking about it philosophically. Which I won’t. I’m real, your real, we’re all real.
Maggie
Real is what I felt for him and what he stopped feeling for me. Real is our age and the distance between us. Real is the fact that he doesn’t care. Real, reality, really? Real.
I rarely feel “real”. I’m not quite sure what “real” means anyway; who are we to say what is and what is not “real”.
Ash
I suppose the water is real. Bubbling, off-green, and real.
Why does water look green? He wondered.
He always assumed that water appeared a certain color due to reflection, like the way the ocean looks blue because of the sky. But what was the bath water reflecting?
Todo lo que percibo, que me engaña, porque en realidad no existe. Real es una palabra mentirosa, es una paradoja, es una forma que tiene Dios de lastimarnos y jugar con nosotros y nuestras emociones, que son lo único “real” pero no pueden llamarse así porque responden a cada uno y no a todos.
Fernando Gabriel
What does it mean to be real? I have asked myself that question multiple times. Maybe its not caring about what others think of you and just doing your own thing? Maybe its not giving into societal convention on evolving trends. Real means to me something that is not fake, but then again what does being fake mean? Can we even really determine what is real and by what standards can we make that determination? If it can be touched or seen or smelt does that make it real? What about abstract concepts such as love and hate and jealousy can those be defined as having a real presence in our lives?
When Death stares you in the face, you can choose to bow your head and go, perhaps quietly, or you can stare back, and when his hand stretches out to grab ahold of your throat, you bite down and don’t go quietly, but press on, screaming, with a fire in your eyes and a scream in your throat.
What is the difference between real and fake? At this age, I am starting to find out who my real friends are and who my fake friends are. It is hard to understand the harsh reality of it all.
Natalie Bucher
this time it wasn’t a lie, it was something that only the kids knew about. We thought we could put it in a box and label it but it became something more than just a cloud floating in the sky. changing patterns…it was solid and tangible and we loved it. Sometimes we just have to trust and let go
Real. It’s what I’m trying to be when I’m on stage but it is so hard. I can’t stop now but it makes me wonder why I wanted to be an actress in the first place… to let my feelings be real. That it’s okay to let them be and for anyone else’s to be.
Real? What is real? What makes something real? Is it because you can hold it, or see it, or smell or taste it? If so than what’s an idea? What is love?
Alexa
What is real and what is fake…does anyone really know anymore…everyone and everything is questionable.
Stephen Clark
This is real. This isn’t a movie or a novel or a play. I have to keep reminding myself that this is my real life. All this shit that’s been going on isn’t a nightmare. It’s alive. It’s living and breathing and working against me and the only one that can make it stop is me. There is no pause button, no stop or eject. This is here. This is now. This is real.
Danielle La Paglia
the world real?
the trees real?
the deep blues
sky they say is real, but how do we know
how do I know that yesterday was real
that every day’s events are real?
Susan
I don’t know what this is; I don’t know how to feel. All I know is that what we have is real. We may not be the cutest, classiest, or sexiest, but damn, for me, this is the greatest. Nothing beats having you to come home to. You’re my guide, my dream; you are my reality.
The real thing about reality, is that everyone is the owner of its own reality and the real concept of it.
zayra
“Will you just–listen to me?” I sigh and stare him down. He’s the first person I’ve ever been this real with, and it’s all going down the drain. I watch his clear blue eyes raise to look at mine. And that stupid red hair. That stupid beautiful red hair.
there are two types of real. there is shallow real and deep real. shallow real is knowing something. deep real is understanding. shallow real is like oh that girl has a nice skirt i bet it’s gucci. deep real is thinking about how she may have gotten that skirt and why and who she was with.
Real, were flooded with it, our eyes gleaming as we look into the clutter on the planet, the hunger, the waste, and then we turn away, unable to stand the absolute horror of our greed.
What is real? Feelings, thoughts, actions. But all can be faked.
Oh that? Yeah, that wasn’t real. That my friend, was a computer simulation. Yeah, you were pretty good, until you got that bullet in your face. Honestly, what was that? Anyway, we’re sending you back in, you ready for it?
I exist only as words on a page, to you
These cold nouns and brittle verbs
Question: Am I anything but a poem?
laughter as she inches all the bit closer
the stories you tell about these things
mere fiction, i thought
but in this moment, so real
but when it passes
and she gets out of my bed
away from my lovelorn sheets
stained from loneliness
it will be fiction
like the stories we tell
when we feel like we need
a blanket to wrap around us.
real is a fake term in my eyes nobody can be real and nothing is really real, everything has a veil of fakeness to it, in some aspect or in some way nothing is ever truly real
Not artificial or pseud like in catcher in the rye – solid, concrete, joyous
There are a lot of real things and unreal things in life. The trick is to be able to tell them apart. And you think some people are being genuine when they look at you and they smile but sometimes it’s not so. Sometimes people have ulterior motives and they’re not being real. You have to get good at telling the difference.
Real. Reality. This is real. This website is real. This laptop is real. The internet is real. This chair I’m sitting on is real. This house is real. I am real. My family is real. My consciousness is real. My sleep is real. My dreams are not. My thoughts are not. My fantasies are not. What is real?
there is a thin line separating the real from the imaginary. thinner than mother’s pancake mix. oh those pancakes. with warm butter melting on top. are they real?
its the moment when you notice something iwth out thinking about it feeling relaxed asuured and in a state of memory where things seem as though they are reall and alive with passion and sonic freeze ack and then i beleive i am that of aperson who can be real with air so fresh that t breaths against your skin in amassive does if hydrogen and romantic kissed and then you wake up and realize its not real
I didn’t know whether this was real or my imagination. All lot of things are in my imagination, I make a lot of things up. And who could blame me? The real world is dull.
real. there isnt much of this out there it seems like. to find one person you believe yourself to be real around is a blessing in itself. especially when you arent sure what is real about yourself. many times what seems real is a reflection of what we wish to be real but is not
is this real? he said
i dont’ think so, if this were real we aren’t even here,,,
Oh… So i don’t really love you?
because I’m not, because i have an orange peel in my pocket, but you’re not allowed to touch it, because I let no other fingers in my pocket, once my almost-boyfriend placed his hands just so, and we watched ourselves watching ourselves in the mirror, that was real, even though reflected, i think i know the difference, that was real
There could be no doubt no there possibilities this was the one and only the original and unequaled this was the true form of all this was truth incarnate and it was something that no skeptic could ever wish to debunk rebuke or refute there was no way that anyone could deny
I tried so hard to accomplish being true to myself and at the end of the day I lost everyone I knew and everything I owned. I’m “real” now. That’s fantastic- but I’m no longer whole.
the images that wash by
the two little balls in your head
rotate around in a pocket of fluid
and send little electrical pulses buzzing
until your mind rationalizes
are not real
nothing to prove
ONE WORD. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE IS LIKE ONE WORD. I CAN’T STAND LIFE SOMETIMES . ITS GETS TO BE REALLY HARD. AND ALL I CAN THINK OF IS JUST ONE WORD. I CAN’T STAND LIFE SOMETIMES I JUST WANT TO DIE AND I DON’T WANT TO TBE HERE ANYMORE. I DON’T WANT TO THINK. I DON’T WANT TO STRESS. I DON’T WANT MONEY. I WANT TO LIVE. LIVE FREE AND HAPPY FOREVER.
what is real? is the table i lean against here? or are we just living a dream? are my feelings real? or are they just my genes working away looking out for their survival? I dont know? Who knows?
I need a drink!
Sometimes I prefer fairy tales.
Oh wow. Real. What is real? It’s a hard word to define and even harder so to think about. Especially if you’re thinking about it philosophically. Which I won’t. I’m real, your real, we’re all real.
Real is what I felt for him and what he stopped feeling for me. Real is our age and the distance between us. Real is the fact that he doesn’t care. Real, reality, really? Real.
I rarely feel “real”. I’m not quite sure what “real” means anyway; who are we to say what is and what is not “real”.
I suppose the water is real. Bubbling, off-green, and real.
Why does water look green? He wondered.
He always assumed that water appeared a certain color due to reflection, like the way the ocean looks blue because of the sky. But what was the bath water reflecting?
We’ll see how real-brave they are after they’ve gone running.
Todo lo que percibo, que me engaña, porque en realidad no existe. Real es una palabra mentirosa, es una paradoja, es una forma que tiene Dios de lastimarnos y jugar con nosotros y nuestras emociones, que son lo único “real” pero no pueden llamarse así porque responden a cada uno y no a todos.
What does it mean to be real? I have asked myself that question multiple times. Maybe its not caring about what others think of you and just doing your own thing? Maybe its not giving into societal convention on evolving trends. Real means to me something that is not fake, but then again what does being fake mean? Can we even really determine what is real and by what standards can we make that determination? If it can be touched or seen or smelt does that make it real? What about abstract concepts such as love and hate and jealousy can those be defined as having a real presence in our lives?
When Death stares you in the face, you can choose to bow your head and go, perhaps quietly, or you can stare back, and when his hand stretches out to grab ahold of your throat, you bite down and don’t go quietly, but press on, screaming, with a fire in your eyes and a scream in your throat.
What is the difference between real and fake? At this age, I am starting to find out who my real friends are and who my fake friends are. It is hard to understand the harsh reality of it all.
this time it wasn’t a lie, it was something that only the kids knew about. We thought we could put it in a box and label it but it became something more than just a cloud floating in the sky. changing patterns…it was solid and tangible and we loved it. Sometimes we just have to trust and let go
Real. It’s what I’m trying to be when I’m on stage but it is so hard. I can’t stop now but it makes me wonder why I wanted to be an actress in the first place… to let my feelings be real. That it’s okay to let them be and for anyone else’s to be.
Real? What is real? What makes something real? Is it because you can hold it, or see it, or smell or taste it? If so than what’s an idea? What is love?
What is real and what is fake…does anyone really know anymore…everyone and everything is questionable.
This is real. This isn’t a movie or a novel or a play. I have to keep reminding myself that this is my real life. All this shit that’s been going on isn’t a nightmare. It’s alive. It’s living and breathing and working against me and the only one that can make it stop is me. There is no pause button, no stop or eject. This is here. This is now. This is real.
the world real?
the trees real?
the deep blues
sky they say is real, but how do we know
how do I know that yesterday was real
that every day’s events are real?
I don’t know what this is; I don’t know how to feel. All I know is that what we have is real. We may not be the cutest, classiest, or sexiest, but damn, for me, this is the greatest. Nothing beats having you to come home to. You’re my guide, my dream; you are my reality.
The real thing about reality, is that everyone is the owner of its own reality and the real concept of it.
“Will you just–listen to me?” I sigh and stare him down. He’s the first person I’ve ever been this real with, and it’s all going down the drain. I watch his clear blue eyes raise to look at mine. And that stupid red hair. That stupid beautiful red hair.
“I’m all ears.”