You never know what is being taped. You never know if privacy is as it seems. Who know if someone saw you pick your nose at that red light? I know I saw you, and you weren’t even looking. I wonder what else people see, when they aren’t supposed to be looking. I wonder what has been recorded, that was never supposed to be released.
Face
vdsavsb s
Anonymous
a recorder is a inane fool, scribbling down bits of life and scraps of the world that strike his silly fancy. what a whimsical person to be.
amanda
just to hear what you’ve said, again,
over and over and over again.
your sweet words a symphony,
to my ears, just a song to me.
http://silent-lulliby.deviantart.com/
the recorders high tweets echo outside the door, reminding him of those days with her, her and that recorder. and he almost wants to scream at the kids to shut up but not really because those memories are hurt and salvation.
marf
preservation of memories and actions
enables the future to experience the past
Maria
technically i would be a recorder because i am recording this paragraph about the word recorder. its a good word that can mean many things. it can be a tape recorder or other various type of recorders.
Bob
it was a day like all the others, only it was today, not yesterday, not yet tomorrow. where we could all think, believe, live and wonder. tomorrow is in the future and yesterday is in the past. far too often we forget about the present. not social networking, not mobiles, not cameras – just today, your eyes, your thoughts, your heart. imagine if we could live each day like no other.
matthew j. peterson
The recorder placed his pen behind his left ear with a sigh and looked at the woman sitting across the desk from him.
“There is nothing wrong with the verdict Mrs Jones,” he said, “but you are welcome to pursue your path towards a second…
Daz
Recorders are used to play for music. They are like the clarinet but no metal. They are also really boring to play. I tried it and failed. I hated it a lot. Don’t you?
Abigail
The ancient recorder hissed out a monotonous static for a few moments before the tape began to play.
“This is the final will and testament of Monsieur Jacques Chirac. This is not a statement of who will inherit my property — this is only the first clue. Whosoever wishes to obtain my estate must first prove themselves. Travel to the statue of George Washington in London’s Trafalgar Square. There, at sunset on the twelfth day of spring, look to the east and you shall find the second clue. Good luck!”
vish
I play the recorder.
I love the annoying sound of the instrument.
It makes a extraordinarily bad sound, but it makes sweet music when played correctly.
My fingers will fly across the finger holes as I play “Hot Cross Buns” over and over again.
Jangles
she tweetled the notes up and down, down and up the cylinder she clutched daintily in her small, pale hands. She took a short breath and blew two, three sweet notes, then took it down to a lower note that seemed to sigh in a very sad, secretive way. The boy she loved watched from the front desk, staring up at her with joy.
Jordan
Sex is just so good. It is just amazing. I really like doggy style and missionary and lotus flower and reverse cowgirl.
sexy rob
I love to record things on my recorder. it is just so handy that i don’t need to remember things, but rather just say them into my recorder. It helps with everyday activities and helps to organize my thoughts. Whoever invented this thing is a genious. I love to record everything that I say because everything I say is awesome.
mik
my son plays recorder, and whenever he begins to practice, suddenly my mind wanders to vodka and escape.
Layla Macoran
it recordes whatever you say into the microphone. or else it could be a wind instrument with holes that you have to cover iwth your fingers. makes a high pitched noise like a flute
Anonymous
princess
Anonymous
Something that loves to hear what you say whenever you want to say it, no matter how annoying, frustrating, racist, offensive, or degrading. It is also an instrument taught to 3rd graders and sounds like a dumb.
Max Cohen
the girls rewound and reordered them selves, fluffed their skirts and powdered their noses with haste and good taste. They recorded their pictures within the silvery frames and the color of their cheeks and how their bones composed themselves.
annamarie
something that you use to save what you say or sing or any type of noise. it is an amazing invention and i am very thankful for it. if it wasn’t for this invention then we would not be able to hear what many have shared, music, words anything.
jacqueline
hello old you
what have you in store today?
what secrets do you hold
what do you possess
capture the moment, she says
and hide it in your chips for ages
tan.alene@gmail.com
anybody else forced to learn this instrument?
… i kind of miss being able to play it.
grace h
I still wish I could have played the recorder. I thought I was so talented for being able to play three consecutive notes. Maybe I’m not as great as I thought. Just in general. I’m not that talented.
Emily
now what am i going to say about recorder? i mean, theres tape recorders which i have learned are completely useless for making notes because i just end up recording jibberish because i’m aware someone is going to hear this crap. and then theres the musical instrument, which should be destraoyed.
l.cakes
recorder? recorder. joshua stared blankly at the ivory colored plastic instrament the music teacher had just placed in his hands. somehow he could not comprhend how after all that practice he had been given a recorder like everyone else.
l.e.
He took down everything. Every item, all that I own and said it wasn’t worth anything. What does he know?
Verna Williams
recorder
Anonymous
the recorder started up and i placed it on the table. he looked at me with those dark eyes and i saw through himj into his evil and disturbed past. I asked him a few simple questions with the inkblots and
Cullen Gray
The recorder is a vague term. It could be a musical instrument, a video recorder, a tape recorder, etc. And I have no idea what else to write for this. XD I fail.
kit
The music plays, high and sweet and complex, and they all sit there patiently staring at the paper, fingers moving. Sometimes their heads move, or their bodies, when they breathe. I wonder how they keep time: toes twitching in their shoes, maybe, or a little internal metronome. Heads bobbing not quite in unison. Melodies intertwining.
infinite
The young reporter sat down with her recorder and began to think aloud. There was so much to this story that she didn’t understand, and she was feeling more and more like a detective with each passing minute. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t see straight. It was all so confusing.
Anonymous
I would love to have a voice recorder so that, everytime my boyfriend says some snid little remark and then says, “I didn’t say that,” I can play it back to him and prove that once again, women are always right.
Megan
somehting that you talk into and it remembers what you say or something that you play music on
bob
I don’t think that anyone has tape recorders any more. people usually have some sort of digital recorder like a backup on skype or a file in audacity. I like to think this has something to do with our complete integration with computers as a whole.
Jack K
i record all my feelings. a laugh. a cry. so little time to write them all. i still think of you. your face. but it will pass. i just have to record them all. what do you think? i think of nothing. memory is just a recording. it will never last.
theresa
“Where’s the recorder?” He yelled, raising his fist over the other man’s head. Eric closed his eyes, waiting for a blow that never came. Instead, he heard the sound of the door splintering. The cavalry had arrived. Here, here was the comeuppance the thug had so richly earned.
Kelly
Playing the recorder is far more difficult than it looks. You have to read music, and you have to translate it into muscle movements, and then you have to breathe just right, and jeepers, I couldn’t master it! Not the piano, either. This was in a music class I took at SDSU to prepare for being a teacher. I loved the class, the teacher, the things we did, the outside workshops, the activities, but I can’t read music or play an instrument to save my life.
You never know what is being taped. You never know if privacy is as it seems. Who know if someone saw you pick your nose at that red light? I know I saw you, and you weren’t even looking. I wonder what else people see, when they aren’t supposed to be looking. I wonder what has been recorded, that was never supposed to be released.
vdsavsb s
a recorder is a inane fool, scribbling down bits of life and scraps of the world that strike his silly fancy. what a whimsical person to be.
just to hear what you’ve said, again,
over and over and over again.
your sweet words a symphony,
to my ears, just a song to me.
the recorders high tweets echo outside the door, reminding him of those days with her, her and that recorder. and he almost wants to scream at the kids to shut up but not really because those memories are hurt and salvation.
preservation of memories and actions
enables the future to experience the past
technically i would be a recorder because i am recording this paragraph about the word recorder. its a good word that can mean many things. it can be a tape recorder or other various type of recorders.
it was a day like all the others, only it was today, not yesterday, not yet tomorrow. where we could all think, believe, live and wonder. tomorrow is in the future and yesterday is in the past. far too often we forget about the present. not social networking, not mobiles, not cameras – just today, your eyes, your thoughts, your heart. imagine if we could live each day like no other.
The recorder placed his pen behind his left ear with a sigh and looked at the woman sitting across the desk from him.
“There is nothing wrong with the verdict Mrs Jones,” he said, “but you are welcome to pursue your path towards a second…
Recorders are used to play for music. They are like the clarinet but no metal. They are also really boring to play. I tried it and failed. I hated it a lot. Don’t you?
The ancient recorder hissed out a monotonous static for a few moments before the tape began to play.
“This is the final will and testament of Monsieur Jacques Chirac. This is not a statement of who will inherit my property — this is only the first clue. Whosoever wishes to obtain my estate must first prove themselves. Travel to the statue of George Washington in London’s Trafalgar Square. There, at sunset on the twelfth day of spring, look to the east and you shall find the second clue. Good luck!”
I play the recorder.
I love the annoying sound of the instrument.
It makes a extraordinarily bad sound, but it makes sweet music when played correctly.
My fingers will fly across the finger holes as I play “Hot Cross Buns” over and over again.
she tweetled the notes up and down, down and up the cylinder she clutched daintily in her small, pale hands. She took a short breath and blew two, three sweet notes, then took it down to a lower note that seemed to sigh in a very sad, secretive way. The boy she loved watched from the front desk, staring up at her with joy.
Sex is just so good. It is just amazing. I really like doggy style and missionary and lotus flower and reverse cowgirl.
I love to record things on my recorder. it is just so handy that i don’t need to remember things, but rather just say them into my recorder. It helps with everyday activities and helps to organize my thoughts. Whoever invented this thing is a genious. I love to record everything that I say because everything I say is awesome.
my son plays recorder, and whenever he begins to practice, suddenly my mind wanders to vodka and escape.
it recordes whatever you say into the microphone. or else it could be a wind instrument with holes that you have to cover iwth your fingers. makes a high pitched noise like a flute
princess
Something that loves to hear what you say whenever you want to say it, no matter how annoying, frustrating, racist, offensive, or degrading. It is also an instrument taught to 3rd graders and sounds like a dumb.
the girls rewound and reordered them selves, fluffed their skirts and powdered their noses with haste and good taste. They recorded their pictures within the silvery frames and the color of their cheeks and how their bones composed themselves.
something that you use to save what you say or sing or any type of noise. it is an amazing invention and i am very thankful for it. if it wasn’t for this invention then we would not be able to hear what many have shared, music, words anything.
hello old you
what have you in store today?
what secrets do you hold
what do you possess
capture the moment, she says
and hide it in your chips for ages
anybody else forced to learn this instrument?
… i kind of miss being able to play it.
I still wish I could have played the recorder. I thought I was so talented for being able to play three consecutive notes. Maybe I’m not as great as I thought. Just in general. I’m not that talented.
now what am i going to say about recorder? i mean, theres tape recorders which i have learned are completely useless for making notes because i just end up recording jibberish because i’m aware someone is going to hear this crap. and then theres the musical instrument, which should be destraoyed.
recorder? recorder. joshua stared blankly at the ivory colored plastic instrament the music teacher had just placed in his hands. somehow he could not comprhend how after all that practice he had been given a recorder like everyone else.
He took down everything. Every item, all that I own and said it wasn’t worth anything. What does he know?
recorder
the recorder started up and i placed it on the table. he looked at me with those dark eyes and i saw through himj into his evil and disturbed past. I asked him a few simple questions with the inkblots and
The recorder is a vague term. It could be a musical instrument, a video recorder, a tape recorder, etc. And I have no idea what else to write for this. XD I fail.
The music plays, high and sweet and complex, and they all sit there patiently staring at the paper, fingers moving. Sometimes their heads move, or their bodies, when they breathe. I wonder how they keep time: toes twitching in their shoes, maybe, or a little internal metronome. Heads bobbing not quite in unison. Melodies intertwining.
The young reporter sat down with her recorder and began to think aloud. There was so much to this story that she didn’t understand, and she was feeling more and more like a detective with each passing minute. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t see straight. It was all so confusing.
I would love to have a voice recorder so that, everytime my boyfriend says some snid little remark and then says, “I didn’t say that,” I can play it back to him and prove that once again, women are always right.
somehting that you talk into and it remembers what you say or something that you play music on
I don’t think that anyone has tape recorders any more. people usually have some sort of digital recorder like a backup on skype or a file in audacity. I like to think this has something to do with our complete integration with computers as a whole.
i record all my feelings. a laugh. a cry. so little time to write them all. i still think of you. your face. but it will pass. i just have to record them all. what do you think? i think of nothing. memory is just a recording. it will never last.
“Where’s the recorder?” He yelled, raising his fist over the other man’s head. Eric closed his eyes, waiting for a blow that never came. Instead, he heard the sound of the door splintering. The cavalry had arrived. Here, here was the comeuppance the thug had so richly earned.
Playing the recorder is far more difficult than it looks. You have to read music, and you have to translate it into muscle movements, and then you have to breathe just right, and jeepers, I couldn’t master it! Not the piano, either. This was in a music class I took at SDSU to prepare for being a teacher. I loved the class, the teacher, the things we did, the outside workshops, the activities, but I can’t read music or play an instrument to save my life.
microphone
tape
radio
record
microphone
tape
radio
record