Texts are amazing. They are what this is. They are what I’ve read. They help us understand. They cause wars. They help people understand and help people hate. They help people grow and tear others apart. I’ll never understand some and I’ll never understand why some are so angry.
Jonathon Quinnelly
She only sent them when she was sure she’d get responses. But she knows that the content of those replies is always a gamble.
Pixels and numbers, broken down from binary signals sent from pressing buttons on a pad. Is that what words are? Is that all our language will be? You say that e-books are a thing of the future, but when you type into your computer and see the spelling errors underlined by red and the grammar underlined by green, are you making stories or technical jargon? What is a click and a clack to the soul, pushed into a pen, making curls and lines on paper? That is art to me. That is writing.
Sunny Patel
I send you a text
no reply
i send you a text
no reply
i send you a text
no reply
im going to stop fucking texting you now.
Brandon
Technology. Changing the world. Are we becoming more comfortable using text messages and email to communicate with other human beings. I think so. Its a false sense of interaction.
There they were, the family texts. Sitting there on the table as inconspicuously as if they were just a couple of pieces of normal paperwork. A lifetime of searching for the family secret had finally payed off, and the answers were all right in front of her. But the girl could not move. Some how she could not make her feet budge from the ground, as if there was a glass shield that separated them that she could not see, not get past.
Chloe Kay
i recieve alot of texts. its one of the main forms of how me and my friends communicate. i enjoy texting because its quick easy and way to express myself without arguing. it helps to keep conflict down to a minimum
Michael francis
She texted me love letters and hefty summaries of her day.
I’d always smile when I receive them, simple or silly.
t e x t s a r e t i n y w o r d s
Ollie
Texts are something that can be deceiving. They are something to be cautious about. People, most often young people, can often build entire relationships through messages sent on a phone. The thing about these relationships, they aren’t real. Can you tell someone you love or hate them as easily to their face as you can through a text?
Another thing about texts? A single text message can break you.
Samantha Warren
sometimes it is the missing texts, the forgotten acknowledgment to remind yo that you have been missed, sometimes nothing says more than words ever could.
megan
I opened the cell and looked at all the old texts from him. Why do I do that? I should just delete them. They only cause me misery.
The simple beauty of words on paper. The simple perfection of a typed vowel, lonely, against a sea of white. e. a. The child who looks at this beauty, this unknown scribble, and is intimidated by its intricacy. Intricacy i wish wasn’t lost to me.
I send text messages each day. Also there are text books that I will have when I go to school next Friday. EW SCHOOL. Don’t want to start that again. But hey, this year I’ll be in college which will be fun :D Hopefully I’ll be texting new friends this year! Yay!
Kelsey
I could send you a million texts detailing my thoughts. But I wouldn’t make it past one text because I’d end up hitting the 160 character limit and thinking that maybe I should tell you the truth some other time.
he texts me,
it puts a grin on my face,
a smile dances on my lips.
lips that want so very bad
to not only smile at his words
but to kiss his lips as well,
put a smile on his face.
Rachel
texts: So I have 60 seconds to write about texts. It makes me wish I had a better sense of being able to write meaningfully. The only way to do that is to do this!
She never text back.
she’s probably busy.
I’m not. I should make myself busy. And maybe when I’m done learning another jazz standard she’ll reply.
She didn’t reply.
Maybe she’ll say good morning to me.
Maybe not.
I’ll say good morning to her then.
If it doesn’t bother her.
I love texts, especially late night when they can go one for pages and pages at a time. They can be some of the best things in the world, if they’re from someone you love. They can also be same of the worst things in the world, if they’re telling you something that you don’t want to hear. They can be good or bad. They’re just a part of life as a whole.
Be careful about how you might word your texts, they can come across as something entirely different than what you had meant to say. Sarcasm dosen’t translate into a text message, so don’t try to pull an “I was just being sarcastic” move when all you want to do is hurt someone’s feelings. Not cool, dude!
Bre
They poured, together, over the ancient tomes. Faces paved in a tomb. The library reeked of decay, dusty, damp.. it had been abandoned sometime, in the aftermath of the shootings. What sadness, that all those who preceded them had been denied such haunting experiences.
It came as a threat; the words, “Let him falter, or he shall see light.”
For I had not been accustomed to such talk. Falter, or light? It was precisely that kind of comprehension he did not want to come to terms with.
He would rather have stumbled; who was I to deny him his own desires?
Whether they are ancient artifacts, saved from the caputered moments of old, or the ultra modern streamlined avenue of communication consuming young teenagers, they are ways of communicating, and logging our human interactions with one another. writing is what makes us human. more human.
My husband doesn’t love me anymore.
I realize this as I send him text after text, and he doesn’t reply.
I flip through text after text, waiting for him to come home.
And he doesn’t– he didn’t even pack his bags.
One day becomes one week and I worry.
I try to call him, every day. I file a Missing Person Report.
Every second threatens to choke me, to strangle me, but still I live, and two days later, I’m informed: He is alive. He is in E__________.
Again, I remember:
We had exchanged a few words, they hung briefly in the air. He said he had to go out. His footsteps crossed the threshold…
I never saw him again.
The fingers loosen their grip on the handle.
Now he will never see me.
Words on a page. Creating an adventure.
A horror.
A tragedy.
A love story.
Something neutral.
Doesn’t matter.
Words on a page,
How long is it?
No one knows…
It’s still in the authors head.
I love to text my friends. There are so many things to say, it makes sending just one impossible. Soon you get hooked on texting, and that is how teenagers get this stereotype
Kaelie
d
lauren
the message from one person to another. a simpler and quicker version of an email. Many people do this on the regular instead of calling. i believe its not a good idea and it can ruin good friendships.
Claire
“They’re old.” Mira mused. She dusted off the bottles of wine and held one up to the light. “Ancient texts and all that. Ancient wine to go with it too.”
“Wine?” Patrick’s head snapped up. “Let me see.”
“It’s not quite what you’re thinking.” She tossed him the bottle and he threw one of the books. She caught it with a quick hand and sneezed when the dust poofed into her nose. “Ick. Hey. Careful!”
“Mm.” He turned the bottle over in his hands. “Nice. Trade places?”
“In a heartbeat.” She turned to grin up at him.
For a moment, his blue eyes burned gold.
For a moment, her green eyes burned gold.
Then, with a flickering white pulse of white light, the friends traded places.
“Oooh, you sneak.” Mira dived for the stacks of books. “That is nice.”
hate, i hate everything. i want to party. party party party lets all get wasted. that rave was the best the other week. i wish i could do it every day. i wish i didnt lose my phone. i love boys.
Sierra
I often send texts as a means of communicating instead of talking because I can better control what I want to say and I can avoid any emotional baggage that can come with normal conversation. I haven’t sent any dirty texts, although I did come close once. And I still text when I drive some.
LightningMan
texts again. i hate texts because they dont tell much. i don’t like long one’s cause they make me wanna sleep and i dont like short ones. i dont know
dude I literally just got this word. Is it one word a day at this joint or somethin’? Well, anyway(s), texts are cool. Almost as cool as gettin’ the same effin’ word twice. Man, who’s gonna believe there are two “Marzipan Daisy”‘s in this world?
Marzipan Daisy
texts. um, awesome, depending who they’re from. they can make and break friendships. one text can ruin your life, or someone else’s. 1 text can end a life. grammar. sucks. but needed. unless u wanna sound lyk3 dis.
Marzipan Daisy
The texts kept coming, one right after the other. I had no idea who the sender was and was afraid to ask. This is why I hate this new technology. Where is the personality, the face, the voice?
A book. Made up of many words. A message shot across a phone. Conversation, art, freedom of speech. A combination of what we have to say and what we want to say
to be able to say what you want without the fear of being seen, the only problem with texting is there will be a record, so watch out sexters ………someone may hold on to your words for life! lololol
texts make or break your mood….you can get a text that makes u float or a text that brings you back to reality the hard way,they’re overrated if you are a male and crucial if you are a female…all it takes is that tiny alert that you got one for you to smile or for you to be dreadfully apprehensive
mai
helen is funny. When we text it’s like I can feel her smile at my texts. But lately texts have been getting a bad rap because of dumb people who text and drive. Why? you can’t wait. Is it really that hard? Come on.
Emily
She looked at the phone, a text. She didn’t want to talk to him, not now and probably not ever. After he publicly humiliated her, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Beep, another text. She rolled her eyes, wishing he would just give up. “I don’t want to talk.” She sent up, feeling the tears start to flow. Don’t cry, he’s not worth it, she told herself over and over again. Hoping she’ll believe it.
Texts are amazing. They are what this is. They are what I’ve read. They help us understand. They cause wars. They help people understand and help people hate. They help people grow and tear others apart. I’ll never understand some and I’ll never understand why some are so angry.
She only sent them when she was sure she’d get responses. But she knows that the content of those replies is always a gamble.
You can’t always get what you want.
You can’t get picky with “k.”
Pixels and numbers, broken down from binary signals sent from pressing buttons on a pad. Is that what words are? Is that all our language will be? You say that e-books are a thing of the future, but when you type into your computer and see the spelling errors underlined by red and the grammar underlined by green, are you making stories or technical jargon? What is a click and a clack to the soul, pushed into a pen, making curls and lines on paper? That is art to me. That is writing.
I send you a text
no reply
i send you a text
no reply
i send you a text
no reply
im going to stop fucking texting you now.
Technology. Changing the world. Are we becoming more comfortable using text messages and email to communicate with other human beings. I think so. Its a false sense of interaction.
texts are incredible. To be able to break up with your girl friend without even having to hear her voice..
There they were, the family texts. Sitting there on the table as inconspicuously as if they were just a couple of pieces of normal paperwork. A lifetime of searching for the family secret had finally payed off, and the answers were all right in front of her. But the girl could not move. Some how she could not make her feet budge from the ground, as if there was a glass shield that separated them that she could not see, not get past.
i recieve alot of texts. its one of the main forms of how me and my friends communicate. i enjoy texting because its quick easy and way to express myself without arguing. it helps to keep conflict down to a minimum
She texted me love letters and hefty summaries of her day.
I’d always smile when I receive them, simple or silly.
t e x t s a r e t i n y w o r d s
Texts are something that can be deceiving. They are something to be cautious about. People, most often young people, can often build entire relationships through messages sent on a phone. The thing about these relationships, they aren’t real. Can you tell someone you love or hate them as easily to their face as you can through a text?
Another thing about texts? A single text message can break you.
sometimes it is the missing texts, the forgotten acknowledgment to remind yo that you have been missed, sometimes nothing says more than words ever could.
I opened the cell and looked at all the old texts from him. Why do I do that? I should just delete them. They only cause me misery.
The simple beauty of words on paper. The simple perfection of a typed vowel, lonely, against a sea of white. e. a. The child who looks at this beauty, this unknown scribble, and is intimidated by its intricacy. Intricacy i wish wasn’t lost to me.
I send text messages each day. Also there are text books that I will have when I go to school next Friday. EW SCHOOL. Don’t want to start that again. But hey, this year I’ll be in college which will be fun :D Hopefully I’ll be texting new friends this year! Yay!
I could send you a million texts detailing my thoughts. But I wouldn’t make it past one text because I’d end up hitting the 160 character limit and thinking that maybe I should tell you the truth some other time.
he texts me,
it puts a grin on my face,
a smile dances on my lips.
lips that want so very bad
to not only smile at his words
but to kiss his lips as well,
put a smile on his face.
texts: So I have 60 seconds to write about texts. It makes me wish I had a better sense of being able to write meaningfully. The only way to do that is to do this!
She never text back.
she’s probably busy.
I’m not. I should make myself busy. And maybe when I’m done learning another jazz standard she’ll reply.
She didn’t reply.
Maybe she’ll say good morning to me.
Maybe not.
I’ll say good morning to her then.
If it doesn’t bother her.
I love texts, especially late night when they can go one for pages and pages at a time. They can be some of the best things in the world, if they’re from someone you love. They can also be same of the worst things in the world, if they’re telling you something that you don’t want to hear. They can be good or bad. They’re just a part of life as a whole.
Be careful about how you might word your texts, they can come across as something entirely different than what you had meant to say. Sarcasm dosen’t translate into a text message, so don’t try to pull an “I was just being sarcastic” move when all you want to do is hurt someone’s feelings. Not cool, dude!
They poured, together, over the ancient tomes. Faces paved in a tomb. The library reeked of decay, dusty, damp.. it had been abandoned sometime, in the aftermath of the shootings. What sadness, that all those who preceded them had been denied such haunting experiences.
It came as a threat; the words, “Let him falter, or he shall see light.”
For I had not been accustomed to such talk. Falter, or light? It was precisely that kind of comprehension he did not want to come to terms with.
He would rather have stumbled; who was I to deny him his own desires?
Whether they are ancient artifacts, saved from the caputered moments of old, or the ultra modern streamlined avenue of communication consuming young teenagers, they are ways of communicating, and logging our human interactions with one another. writing is what makes us human. more human.
back and forth
never ending
or
on going
forever
and ever
who knows?
depends who you’re texting.
do you love them?
god knows
hate them
god knows
texts
My husband doesn’t love me anymore.
I realize this as I send him text after text, and he doesn’t reply.
I flip through text after text, waiting for him to come home.
And he doesn’t– he didn’t even pack his bags.
One day becomes one week and I worry.
I try to call him, every day. I file a Missing Person Report.
Every second threatens to choke me, to strangle me, but still I live, and two days later, I’m informed: He is alive. He is in E__________.
Again, I remember:
We had exchanged a few words, they hung briefly in the air. He said he had to go out. His footsteps crossed the threshold…
I never saw him again.
The fingers loosen their grip on the handle.
Now he will never see me.
Words on a page. Creating an adventure.
A horror.
A tragedy.
A love story.
Something neutral.
Doesn’t matter.
Words on a page,
How long is it?
No one knows…
It’s still in the authors head.
I love to text my friends. There are so many things to say, it makes sending just one impossible. Soon you get hooked on texting, and that is how teenagers get this stereotype
d
the message from one person to another. a simpler and quicker version of an email. Many people do this on the regular instead of calling. i believe its not a good idea and it can ruin good friendships.
“They’re old.” Mira mused. She dusted off the bottles of wine and held one up to the light. “Ancient texts and all that. Ancient wine to go with it too.”
“Wine?” Patrick’s head snapped up. “Let me see.”
“It’s not quite what you’re thinking.” She tossed him the bottle and he threw one of the books. She caught it with a quick hand and sneezed when the dust poofed into her nose. “Ick. Hey. Careful!”
“Mm.” He turned the bottle over in his hands. “Nice. Trade places?”
“In a heartbeat.” She turned to grin up at him.
For a moment, his blue eyes burned gold.
For a moment, her green eyes burned gold.
Then, with a flickering white pulse of white light, the friends traded places.
“Oooh, you sneak.” Mira dived for the stacks of books. “That is nice.”
“Right back at you.” Patrick gloated.
hate, i hate everything. i want to party. party party party lets all get wasted. that rave was the best the other week. i wish i could do it every day. i wish i didnt lose my phone. i love boys.
I often send texts as a means of communicating instead of talking because I can better control what I want to say and I can avoid any emotional baggage that can come with normal conversation. I haven’t sent any dirty texts, although I did come close once. And I still text when I drive some.
texts again. i hate texts because they dont tell much. i don’t like long one’s cause they make me wanna sleep and i dont like short ones. i dont know
dude I literally just got this word. Is it one word a day at this joint or somethin’? Well, anyway(s), texts are cool. Almost as cool as gettin’ the same effin’ word twice. Man, who’s gonna believe there are two “Marzipan Daisy”‘s in this world?
texts. um, awesome, depending who they’re from. they can make and break friendships. one text can ruin your life, or someone else’s. 1 text can end a life. grammar. sucks. but needed. unless u wanna sound lyk3 dis.
The texts kept coming, one right after the other. I had no idea who the sender was and was afraid to ask. This is why I hate this new technology. Where is the personality, the face, the voice?
A book. Made up of many words. A message shot across a phone. Conversation, art, freedom of speech. A combination of what we have to say and what we want to say
to be able to say what you want without the fear of being seen, the only problem with texting is there will be a record, so watch out sexters ………someone may hold on to your words for life! lololol
texts make or break your mood….you can get a text that makes u float or a text that brings you back to reality the hard way,they’re overrated if you are a male and crucial if you are a female…all it takes is that tiny alert that you got one for you to smile or for you to be dreadfully apprehensive
helen is funny. When we text it’s like I can feel her smile at my texts. But lately texts have been getting a bad rap because of dumb people who text and drive. Why? you can’t wait. Is it really that hard? Come on.
She looked at the phone, a text. She didn’t want to talk to him, not now and probably not ever. After he publicly humiliated her, she didn’t want anything to do with him. Beep, another text. She rolled her eyes, wishing he would just give up. “I don’t want to talk.” She sent up, feeling the tears start to flow. Don’t cry, he’s not worth it, she told herself over and over again. Hoping she’ll believe it.