she couldnt move….she looked over and saw his head on the wheel….she tried to scream but nobody could hear her….what….happened…she closed her eyes and died…
I hate this place. I hate the lights. I hate the walls. I hate the carpets and the phone cords. I hate thinking about this place when I’ve left, I hate thinking how this is the place I’m headed when I wake. I hate feeling this leash around my neck, anchoring my neck down into seas saturated with stress and displeasure. I hate tasking myself before the queue is cleared. I hate canned responses and automated emotions. I hate inefficiency due to laziness and those who cannot help themselves. I hate helping those who deserve to be helped and having them turn on you.
I hate when you act a complete cunt. I hate when you say you’re going to breakup but don’t. I hate when you drag your feet when I run. I hate when you force misery in my daily way. I hate when you say you want me to come to work with you early, but then ask me to be away from you. I hate your motivation-to-write-murder. I hate that you uninspire me as easily as you inspire me and that you can make me forget why I write, you tell me you want to show me Olympia. I tell you I want to see, then you say not today. All these letters, so forced, like my fingers choking on each keystroke, and they can either keep choking or vomit them back up. They puke violently. Then violetly, so I can be writing incessantly and regurgitate my city. Purple hues and deities, guiding me misleading me. This is my sensible frustration. And I love it.
She was sensible, never tried too hard to make a good impression, but did anyway. Down to earth, so far down in fact she was inside it, in the dirt, under the soil. She fanned out the roots of trees and pushed up their trunks, spread out their branches.
i am so sensible it hurts
people are so mean it hurts
my feeling are like bubble gum
and people chew them
i am so sensible
it breaks and streches me
Zlati
Who named this town Sensible, New Jersey? Without context, without its being a word, it sounded like a drug, like the ones developed by the factories up and down Route 1 from Newark into Manhattan. Ask your doctor if Sensible is right for you. But it turns out that Sensible is an old name, and that they came over from Denmark and were called Cincible. Van Gogh’s mother-in-law was a Cincible. Half of them went to Pennsylvania and half continued to Missouri, and the Pennsylvanians migrated from the Port of Philadelphia across the Delaware River, where they set up mills and sewed the fabric they made and baked and made bricks and dug trenches for streetcar track and became chemists and learned to make the kerosene that they exported to Canada and out west. Did you know the first oil company in the world, Standard Oil, the one the Rockefellers started, they got the idea right here in what is now Sensible, New Jersey?
I am not a sensible human being, in fact in most arenas i am unsensable. i have senses but i refuse to use them!
Its odd but true!
cody richard
the word conjures prairie, self-reliance, Americanism, windswept hardship. but today we have dojos and chidren striving for university scholarships and standardized tests. and when they get kicked in the head at practice, the concussion knocks them un-sensible
If I was sensible I would not be casually sleeping with my ex-boyfriend. The first and third times were mediocre but satisfying on some level. The second time was amazing and threw me on an emotional rollercoaster for a few days.
the most sensible thing to do when you do not know is to keep quiet .
Nitin R S Bodke
Not without a guide, right? That’s a sensible course of action.
But I hate limitations. Impositions that sit like rocks in your mind.
So I follow along with only a loose sense of direction for this ride.
saw this one yesterday, so is the word chosen or at least posted by hand? or is it autocreated? if the latter why the same word two days in a row. Hey, I am trying to be sensible about this, nicht wahr?
The sensible thing to do would be to forget about him but I won’t. I will continue to throw caution to the wind and risk being the biggest fool on earth to find out why I have such a physical pull to this man.
She tried to think about what her mother would say in the same situation “be sensible” she’d always said. Then again, her mother had perished a horrible death in the pits of hell so perhaps she wasn’t the best person to go to for advice.
It was not very sensible the way Mrs. Dawson expected everything to be done before she got home from work. Gracie was only thirteen and she had less than two hours before her mother’s return. She did not think it fair that Reis got out of helping because he claimed he had an after school project to finish.
“Oh, be sensible,” her mother snapped. “You can’t go out looking like that, all baggy clothes and scraggly hair. And look at those shoes! Clogs? No one wears clogs any more. You look like an old hippie.”
There’s no sensible explanation for what i walked in on. I saw his face underwater, and I didn’t believe for a second that he was dead, that he had killed himself that afternoon. My first thought was that he was just asleep and that it wasn’t out of the ordinary to do so underwater.
What sensible is, that only the best man-known people are sensible. Two times a word has been said. My language teacher would be proud of me. That’s what sensible means about you and me. This thing is monstrous. Sensibility is f
Jonas
Feeling good about yourself. Loving yourself. Being honest with yourself. Having sense if nothing else at all.
Presh
LOve…love is something comes from a deeper heart …and i would say that love exactly comes from a pure gold heart.Everyone may fell in love with someone special like i do.A true maybe the love of shajahan to his wife mumtaj.More fascinating this love doesn’t end like others when his wife die,he built Taj Mahal as a rememberance of her beloved wife.My nanny had told me a bout this story when i was a till a small girl and realised the power of love at that young age without knowing th
meharul
He’s responsible enough. As far as responsible adults go, he may only be slightly responsible to commit to his own actions. He never agreed to extend that responsibility to anyone else besides his precious Petunia, and Meredith was an adult all on his own. Was he irrational to act this way, especially around a boy who portrays himself ten times his age?
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know…eventually.” Elijah will admit seeing the clear frustration on Tetsu’s face brings out an old-fashioned kind of cruel giddiness in him. Keeping answers and truths out of the boy’s reach like one taunts a cat with a toy, he’ll admit…it certainly isn’t sensible.
“Don’t bother for now.” Tetsu’s steely tone and unamused frown reminds Elijah that he’s still an adult and still has expectations of him. But for now, Elijah will pretend that sensibility is strictly reserved for adults, and that he is anything but.
He was writing the next-gen AI system (or really, the first-gen, since no one had really done it before). He called it Sensible. Currently, there were just these common sense systems with millions of ad-hoc rules, but something that reasoned with artificial emotion… it could compress the information landscape. “It’s odd that you’re the project leader,” Fred told him privately one night, “you’re the most stoic, of all of us.” (All the better to make artificial emotion, he thought. How do you program a computer to do something that you’re so inborn with that you have no way of looking inside, and taking apart the little gears and wires? He was mildly autistic, but he saw it as a strength.) “You should come to the bar with us. It’ll boost morale, to see you joking and laughing, like the rest of us.” (He wavered on indecision. Bars were cluttered places, everyone signaling to one another in incomprehensible ways under a dim haze of lights and ambient noise.) But Fred was the sensible one, the one who always went up to him before he left and gave him a report of the day, honest when he made no progress and humble when he did. So he agreed.
He was a sensible sort of man, the kind who put all his groceries on the belt in a certain order so as not to squish the grapes, the kind who paid for his water bill a month ahead so as never to be late. It was with great surprise, then, that he found himself compelled to pick up a bouquet of roses that day at the farmer’s market — for whom, he had no idea.
Sharon
sensible, make sensible decisions they always say. but why make sensible decisions in a world that makes no sense. and anyhow, in the mind of the maker, almost every decision makes sense, even if it travels through a very particular, seemingly chaotic, misunderstood maze-like thought process.
there was no sensible way out of the situation. there was blood all over the place, and what was i going to do with the head? there is no class or course to prepare you for such a thing.
Paul Atwood
“Who needs common sense!”, I yell, enraged.
“Well, humanity has found it useful so far.”, she comments, way too calm. It makes me even angrier.
“I don’t care about humanitiy!”
“Yes, I can see that.”
She takes a sip from her coffee. Why isn’t it getting under her skin? Nothing can phase her, it seems.
“I think you underestimate the severity of our little “paux pas”.”
“You really think so?” Another little sip. She sounds so indifferent about it.
“Fuck you!”, I try to yell again, but my anger is gone. She has this smirk on her lips that I hate so much, only because it means that she got me again.
It was not what she had anticipated. As he stood there, cold and shivering, she realized that there was nothing she could say in response. Though his trek in the frigid winter air was anything but logical, his reasoning was sound.
She shook off her hesitation. “At least be sensible and come inside, ” she said.
shoes are preferred.
said the guide.
nose upturned to the holes in my trainers.
i imagined a rainy hike through the streets
and wondered if she would drown through those large nostrils.
Sensible shoes are brown, and women seem sensible if they dress with suits and handbags, like Mary Poppins.
I just wish I could do something with my hair besides this stupid bun for my costume cos jesus it’s stupid looking, really.
Sam
She was wearing sensible brown shoes, with larger-than-average buckles and thick white socks. Her shirt was buttoned to the throat, as if it were one hundred years earlier, and her handbag could have literally fit everything but the kitchen sink.
Her eyes were mismatched; one was blue and one green. Something about the stark contrast between sensibility and patchwork made her seem almost unreal.
there was nothing sensible about it. Mind-altering drugs were nothing i was previously familiar with. but this, this was pure sensational orgasm after orgasm. I felt my body in the music, the bass hit and my soul quivered with the intensity of the crowd around me.
Chris
there are very few sensible people in the world today…why would anyone go shoot people randomly at LAX airport. even the kids today are so weird and full of themselves. And we thot we were bad
she couldnt move….she looked over and saw his head on the wheel….she tried to scream but nobody could hear her….what….happened…she closed her eyes and died…
I hate this place. I hate the lights. I hate the walls. I hate the carpets and the phone cords. I hate thinking about this place when I’ve left, I hate thinking how this is the place I’m headed when I wake. I hate feeling this leash around my neck, anchoring my neck down into seas saturated with stress and displeasure. I hate tasking myself before the queue is cleared. I hate canned responses and automated emotions. I hate inefficiency due to laziness and those who cannot help themselves. I hate helping those who deserve to be helped and having them turn on you.
I hate when you act a complete cunt. I hate when you say you’re going to breakup but don’t. I hate when you drag your feet when I run. I hate when you force misery in my daily way. I hate when you say you want me to come to work with you early, but then ask me to be away from you. I hate your motivation-to-write-murder. I hate that you uninspire me as easily as you inspire me and that you can make me forget why I write, you tell me you want to show me Olympia. I tell you I want to see, then you say not today. All these letters, so forced, like my fingers choking on each keystroke, and they can either keep choking or vomit them back up. They puke violently. Then violetly, so I can be writing incessantly and regurgitate my city. Purple hues and deities, guiding me misleading me. This is my sensible frustration. And I love it.
She was sensible, never tried too hard to make a good impression, but did anyway. Down to earth, so far down in fact she was inside it, in the dirt, under the soil. She fanned out the roots of trees and pushed up their trunks, spread out their branches.
i am so sensible it hurts
people are so mean it hurts
my feeling are like bubble gum
and people chew them
i am so sensible
it breaks and streches me
Who named this town Sensible, New Jersey? Without context, without its being a word, it sounded like a drug, like the ones developed by the factories up and down Route 1 from Newark into Manhattan. Ask your doctor if Sensible is right for you. But it turns out that Sensible is an old name, and that they came over from Denmark and were called Cincible. Van Gogh’s mother-in-law was a Cincible. Half of them went to Pennsylvania and half continued to Missouri, and the Pennsylvanians migrated from the Port of Philadelphia across the Delaware River, where they set up mills and sewed the fabric they made and baked and made bricks and dug trenches for streetcar track and became chemists and learned to make the kerosene that they exported to Canada and out west. Did you know the first oil company in the world, Standard Oil, the one the Rockefellers started, they got the idea right here in what is now Sensible, New Jersey?
I am not a sensible human being, in fact in most arenas i am unsensable. i have senses but i refuse to use them!
Its odd but true!
the word conjures prairie, self-reliance, Americanism, windswept hardship. but today we have dojos and chidren striving for university scholarships and standardized tests. and when they get kicked in the head at practice, the concussion knocks them un-sensible
If I was sensible I would not be casually sleeping with my ex-boyfriend. The first and third times were mediocre but satisfying on some level. The second time was amazing and threw me on an emotional rollercoaster for a few days.
there’s a car coming
but you’re so pretty
i can’t look away
the most sensible thing to do when you do not know is to keep quiet .
Not without a guide, right? That’s a sensible course of action.
But I hate limitations. Impositions that sit like rocks in your mind.
So I follow along with only a loose sense of direction for this ride.
mature
responsible
good decisions
adult
upstanding citizen
level-headed
logical
non-impulsive
rational
productive member of society
saw this one yesterday, so is the word chosen or at least posted by hand? or is it autocreated? if the latter why the same word two days in a row. Hey, I am trying to be sensible about this, nicht wahr?
It’s so boring being sensible. Sometimes I wish I could be more adventurous and take more risks. Oh well maybe I’ll have to change.
The sensible thing to do would be to forget about him but I won’t. I will continue to throw caution to the wind and risk being the biggest fool on earth to find out why I have such a physical pull to this man.
She tried to think about what her mother would say in the same situation “be sensible” she’d always said. Then again, her mother had perished a horrible death in the pits of hell so perhaps she wasn’t the best person to go to for advice.
I think we all try to be sensible in our everyday lives, but there comes a time where you have to say “fuck it” and just do what feels good.
It was not very sensible the way Mrs. Dawson expected everything to be done before she got home from work. Gracie was only thirteen and she had less than two hours before her mother’s return. She did not think it fair that Reis got out of helping because he claimed he had an after school project to finish.
“Oh, be sensible,” her mother snapped. “You can’t go out looking like that, all baggy clothes and scraggly hair. And look at those shoes! Clogs? No one wears clogs any more. You look like an old hippie.”
There’s no sensible explanation for what i walked in on. I saw his face underwater, and I didn’t believe for a second that he was dead, that he had killed himself that afternoon. My first thought was that he was just asleep and that it wasn’t out of the ordinary to do so underwater.
What sensible is, that only the best man-known people are sensible. Two times a word has been said. My language teacher would be proud of me. That’s what sensible means about you and me. This thing is monstrous. Sensibility is f
Feeling good about yourself. Loving yourself. Being honest with yourself. Having sense if nothing else at all.
LOve…love is something comes from a deeper heart …and i would say that love exactly comes from a pure gold heart.Everyone may fell in love with someone special like i do.A true maybe the love of shajahan to his wife mumtaj.More fascinating this love doesn’t end like others when his wife die,he built Taj Mahal as a rememberance of her beloved wife.My nanny had told me a bout this story when i was a till a small girl and realised the power of love at that young age without knowing th
He’s responsible enough. As far as responsible adults go, he may only be slightly responsible to commit to his own actions. He never agreed to extend that responsibility to anyone else besides his precious Petunia, and Meredith was an adult all on his own. Was he irrational to act this way, especially around a boy who portrays himself ten times his age?
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know…eventually.” Elijah will admit seeing the clear frustration on Tetsu’s face brings out an old-fashioned kind of cruel giddiness in him. Keeping answers and truths out of the boy’s reach like one taunts a cat with a toy, he’ll admit…it certainly isn’t sensible.
“Don’t bother for now.” Tetsu’s steely tone and unamused frown reminds Elijah that he’s still an adult and still has expectations of him. But for now, Elijah will pretend that sensibility is strictly reserved for adults, and that he is anything but.
He was writing the next-gen AI system (or really, the first-gen, since no one had really done it before). He called it Sensible. Currently, there were just these common sense systems with millions of ad-hoc rules, but something that reasoned with artificial emotion… it could compress the information landscape. “It’s odd that you’re the project leader,” Fred told him privately one night, “you’re the most stoic, of all of us.” (All the better to make artificial emotion, he thought. How do you program a computer to do something that you’re so inborn with that you have no way of looking inside, and taking apart the little gears and wires? He was mildly autistic, but he saw it as a strength.) “You should come to the bar with us. It’ll boost morale, to see you joking and laughing, like the rest of us.” (He wavered on indecision. Bars were cluttered places, everyone signaling to one another in incomprehensible ways under a dim haze of lights and ambient noise.) But Fred was the sensible one, the one who always went up to him before he left and gave him a report of the day, honest when he made no progress and humble when he did. So he agreed.
He was a sensible sort of man, the kind who put all his groceries on the belt in a certain order so as not to squish the grapes, the kind who paid for his water bill a month ahead so as never to be late. It was with great surprise, then, that he found himself compelled to pick up a bouquet of roses that day at the farmer’s market — for whom, he had no idea.
sensible, make sensible decisions they always say. but why make sensible decisions in a world that makes no sense. and anyhow, in the mind of the maker, almost every decision makes sense, even if it travels through a very particular, seemingly chaotic, misunderstood maze-like thought process.
there was no sensible way out of the situation. there was blood all over the place, and what was i going to do with the head? there is no class or course to prepare you for such a thing.
“Who needs common sense!”, I yell, enraged.
“Well, humanity has found it useful so far.”, she comments, way too calm. It makes me even angrier.
“I don’t care about humanitiy!”
“Yes, I can see that.”
She takes a sip from her coffee. Why isn’t it getting under her skin? Nothing can phase her, it seems.
“I think you underestimate the severity of our little “paux pas”.”
“You really think so?” Another little sip. She sounds so indifferent about it.
“Fuck you!”, I try to yell again, but my anger is gone. She has this smirk on her lips that I hate so much, only because it means that she got me again.
It was not what she had anticipated. As he stood there, cold and shivering, she realized that there was nothing she could say in response. Though his trek in the frigid winter air was anything but logical, his reasoning was sound.
She shook off her hesitation. “At least be sensible and come inside, ” she said.
shoes are preferred.
said the guide.
nose upturned to the holes in my trainers.
i imagined a rainy hike through the streets
and wondered if she would drown through those large nostrils.
Sensible shoes are brown, and women seem sensible if they dress with suits and handbags, like Mary Poppins.
I just wish I could do something with my hair besides this stupid bun for my costume cos jesus it’s stupid looking, really.
She was wearing sensible brown shoes, with larger-than-average buckles and thick white socks. Her shirt was buttoned to the throat, as if it were one hundred years earlier, and her handbag could have literally fit everything but the kitchen sink.
Her eyes were mismatched; one was blue and one green. Something about the stark contrast between sensibility and patchwork made her seem almost unreal.
there was nothing sensible about it. Mind-altering drugs were nothing i was previously familiar with. but this, this was pure sensational orgasm after orgasm. I felt my body in the music, the bass hit and my soul quivered with the intensity of the crowd around me.
there are very few sensible people in the world today…why would anyone go shoot people randomly at LAX airport. even the kids today are so weird and full of themselves. And we thot we were bad