to demonstrate is to show something to somebody. you can demostrate a talent. you can also demonstrate if you’re unsatisfied with somebody or someone.
A demonstration can be peaceful or it can be violent. In some countrys you have to ask for permission to demonstrate in public
She held a weapon in her hands, a tool of enormous power and something she could not get rid of on a whim. She covered her mouth with her hand, her features folded in deep concern.
She was being posed a simple question: demonstrate what it can do. Demonstrate what you can do and for whom. She raised her head. There was no correct answer.
Don’t tell me to show you how I feel
I love you in every way
Your face against mine, the small upturn of your lips;
Is all I can show you
To show you how I love you.
I’d like to demonstrate how to utilize the tools around you for raising your child. You have plenty of opportunities to spark imagination and creativity, as long as you know where to look. There are resource books that offer a variety of activities, and the best for young children is art. You can create activities for children based off anything! As simple as a spoon from your kitchen, or as complicated as a broken down stereo.
Your charcoal pencil swooped across the page, gliding, blending shades of darkness.
“Let me show you,” you whispered, as trees bloomed across the canvas of the page, but I was already looking out the window at a bird which was failing to take flight.
“Lay on the line,” he said, his grey eyes boring into mine. The sweat trickled down my blouse and I gripped my napkin underneath the table as I gave him my first and most important sales pitch.
you’ll have to show me what you want me to do. what, you’ve never done it before? No! Is that surprising to you? Kinda, I mean it is kind of a basic thing these days, isn’t it? Well, not for me, I have standards. Ok, I see. So, let’s lower those standards right now, ok?
How did she used to behave? When she was alive, living, being? I wonder if I am simply a living demonstration of what she used to be. I want her to still be here, not to just be a living representation of what she was. I want to be me. But I want her too.
Derailed. The discussion we thought we were having was derailed by the sweet-tongued bluebird on the windowsill singing the song we hadn’t heard since summer’s passing. She said “show me your lowest mark,” and I pulled out my arm for her to rest her palm.
“Why don’t you just go ahead and demonstrate for me then? Since you’re so obviously talented.” The guy said, flashing a bit of a cocky smirk. He stepped back, giving the girl a look from under the overgrown strands he seemed to call hair, and you could tell the girl was debating if it was some sort of trick or not by the confidence he showed.
The guy raised an eyebrow at her. “You aren’t scared, are you? I mean, if you can try out for the team, then you can definitely shoot a single hoop without missing, yeah?”
She seemed to size him up for a moment before shaking her head slowly, that confident cold look slowly returning. But when she reached for the ball, you wondered if she had sweaty hands from the way she had to quickly move to grab it before it slid out, and away from her. You were pretty sure she was blushing, even though she was struggling to catch it, and the guy next to her laughed. It sounded sick though, distorted and wrong, laced with the cruel edge to it, like he thought women were something weak.
You didn’t really know what to think about that.
He obviously considered this was going to be an easy win. No girls on the team, you remember him saying. Guys only. And yeah, that seemed… really unfair to you. You found yourself almost rooting for this girl in your mind.
The girl appeared to remember this too, what the man had said, and she turned to give him a harsh look, one that immediately cut off his laughter. You could tell that pleased the girl, as she turned back to the hoop, facing it with what she probably thought was a calm expression.
She looked nervous.
The girl licked her lips, cocked her head, appeared to be calculating the distance, the wind, the force she would need to throw it. She was a solider sizing up what had to be the most important enemy she had faced so far, having to make sure she didn’t miss, couldn’t miss, and you found your hands clenching in anticipation.
She probably wanted this… /badly/. And – jeez, it sounded, /weird/ honestly, to think that this could be the girl’s dream. Wanting to play basketball on a lousy team in the middle of nowhere. But staring at her, and thinking about the alternative – embarrassing herself in front of a team of basketball players, wanting to play so badly, and then missing the shot and going home and never being allowed to come back and try again…
God, it was really kind of harsh.
She bounced the basket ball, it slapping against the cold ground beneath her, and she took another breath, the man beside her snapping that they don’t have all day, that they wanted to get back to the game.
The girl bit down on her lower lip, stared at the hoop, nodded once, and then the ball was out of her hands, sailing across the sky, towards the hoop.
For one split second, you swore you were in a movie. The way how everyone had quieted, watching the ball slide around the rim of the hoop, fast, (too fast?) and it was miraculously slowing down, and you couldn’t look back at the girl and the guy to see their reactions, because you were too busy having your own.
Was she going to score? Was she going to miss?
Dreams crushed or created?
You felt your breath leave your lungs, felt the hair stand up on your arms, swore as it felt like everything paused.
You watched the ball drop, biting down hard on your lip, completely and utterly in disbelief, staring at where the ball had fallen, sitting against the cold cracked floor harmlessly.
“Damn,” You murmur, before slowly shaking your head.
My first thought takes me back to when my children were little and I didn’t want to work full time until they were in school. I used to buy those ‘little extras’ by selling Tupperware that I would demonstrate at parties. Seems so long ago now!
My brother once joined a group where every member agreed to support the others’ causes, even if they didn’t believe in them. For example, if someone wanted to demonstrate against the university’s medical lab because they used live rats for experiments, everyone would turn up for the protest. The next week, someone else might want to protest the lack of civil rights in some far off country. Again, the whole group would come in support. It made sense to me that my brother belonged to a group like this.
My brother once joined a group that agreed to support one another’s causes, even if they didn’t believe in them. For example, if someone wanted to demonstrate against the university’s medical lab because they used live rats for experiments, everyone would turn up for the protest. The next week, someone else might want to protest the lack of civil rights in some far off country. Again, the whole group would come in support. It made sense to me that my brother belonged to a group like this.
Master Janus stood affront the class, “Like this” he said. He flicked his sword out with such speed that it was nearly impossible to see, but Rickon did. A very slight pause just before the twirl and right after the stab. It was genius, that pause. it broke the beat of fighting and, therefore, would fluster any suitable opponent.
demonstrating some stress actually – it feels like a board race when we were little or something. I think I’d be more comfortable if it were at least 3 minutes. We did activities like that with Nicole for instance and they were fun/cool/productive/evocative and all that great stuff – at least it is cool and let’s you finish up your last sentence altho it would be interesting to see how long it lets you type actually – plus is it watching for end-of-sentence-type punctuation so that it can close you out? we’ll see. I guess not. So that feels much better now – knowing that you could finish your thoughts in relative leisure – well compared to the initial 60-second race anyway. I’m continuing to type not because I want to cheat or fill up the space but I really want to see how long it lets me go. very curious. more coffee in a minute then more work til I conk out. I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow at RC. gah! oh well. this is a very nice amount of writing/space to be dealt each day I must say. whoa! I thought it would stop me there but it lets you keep going. very cool altho I’ll still probably try to use it as a brief energy-sparker slash experiment in succinctness exercise. laters, baby. :)
it would be my utmost pleasure to demonstrate the destructive powers at work here that normally go unseen. But what fun is there in dissolving the mystery?
I want to demonstrate the pros and cons of who I am
But you won’t let me do that, you only ever
Let me demonstrate anything, when it’s my love for you
I don’t think that I can do this anymore, I don’t
Want to show you something you already knew.
demonstrate the correct way to complete this action.
his heart pounded. there was absolutely no way he was going to pass this exam. he really shouldn’t have stayed up watching videos on youtube last night. why oh why didn’t he cram like all his friends had? stupid, STUPID.
“Do I need to demonstrate the technique to you?” he asked, but his voice was bitter and his eyes distant. “Or do you think you can figure it out on your own?”
Today I would like to demonstrate my writing skill. How does this have to do wih anything going around here? Well, let us just say, it is an experiment. I guess I shall learn something by doing this exercise. I have not wrote for so long after all.
What happen? Somehow I get another minute to write. So shall I continue? I guess so. But I am currently out of ideas, so I just again restating the title. Demonstrate.
It seems like tis spelt wrong. Are you guys sure you got this right? strata like masterbate. demon like demon. devil and angels. demons straightening out demons. demons masterbating about angels. Don’t cut me off!
Please demonstrate the lab for me. I want to know that you have mastered the skills. Please begin. She took the test tube and with shaking hands poured the solution into the beaker. Immediately the solution began to bubble, first gently and then with vigor.
your love to me give me something to write about. tell me you love me, you need me and I will show you the same. I say I am happy without feeling what love really is but I lie. I want yoy to make me feel what it is.
A demonstration is your ability to show what you know in a visual presentation. Demonstrating can be easier than telling or writing. It makes things clearer to your audience. It can be empowering and engaging to others.
show leadership. be an example. funny how my thoughts automatically turn to LEADING. but it just corresponds with what I’m learning in my life right now. LEAD. SHOW HOW TO BE. DEMONSTRATE.
to demonstrate is to show something to somebody. you can demostrate a talent. you can also demonstrate if you’re unsatisfied with somebody or someone.
A demonstration can be peaceful or it can be violent. In some countrys you have to ask for permission to demonstrate in public
She held a weapon in her hands, a tool of enormous power and something she could not get rid of on a whim. She covered her mouth with her hand, her features folded in deep concern.
She was being posed a simple question: demonstrate what it can do. Demonstrate what you can do and for whom. She raised her head. There was no correct answer.
Don’t tell me to show you how I feel
I love you in every way
Your face against mine, the small upturn of your lips;
Is all I can show you
To show you how I love you.
I’d like to demonstrate how to utilize the tools around you for raising your child. You have plenty of opportunities to spark imagination and creativity, as long as you know where to look. There are resource books that offer a variety of activities, and the best for young children is art. You can create activities for children based off anything! As simple as a spoon from your kitchen, or as complicated as a broken down stereo.
Your charcoal pencil swooped across the page, gliding, blending shades of darkness.
“Let me show you,” you whispered, as trees bloomed across the canvas of the page, but I was already looking out the window at a bird which was failing to take flight.
“I’ll demonstrate.”
The fluid movements made by Emanuel caused Minerva to squirm. His dancing was beautiful, but that smile! She didn’t want to kiss him yet.
“Lay on the line,” he said, his grey eyes boring into mine. The sweat trickled down my blouse and I gripped my napkin underneath the table as I gave him my first and most important sales pitch.
you’ll have to show me what you want me to do. what, you’ve never done it before? No! Is that surprising to you? Kinda, I mean it is kind of a basic thing these days, isn’t it? Well, not for me, I have standards. Ok, I see. So, let’s lower those standards right now, ok?
demostrate your love every day of the week
I would love to demonstrate my affection day to day
How did she used to behave? When she was alive, living, being? I wonder if I am simply a living demonstration of what she used to be. I want her to still be here, not to just be a living representation of what she was. I want to be me. But I want her too.
Derailed. The discussion we thought we were having was derailed by the sweet-tongued bluebird on the windowsill singing the song we hadn’t heard since summer’s passing. She said “show me your lowest mark,” and I pulled out my arm for her to rest her palm.
“Why don’t you just go ahead and demonstrate for me then? Since you’re so obviously talented.” The guy said, flashing a bit of a cocky smirk. He stepped back, giving the girl a look from under the overgrown strands he seemed to call hair, and you could tell the girl was debating if it was some sort of trick or not by the confidence he showed.
The guy raised an eyebrow at her. “You aren’t scared, are you? I mean, if you can try out for the team, then you can definitely shoot a single hoop without missing, yeah?”
She seemed to size him up for a moment before shaking her head slowly, that confident cold look slowly returning. But when she reached for the ball, you wondered if she had sweaty hands from the way she had to quickly move to grab it before it slid out, and away from her. You were pretty sure she was blushing, even though she was struggling to catch it, and the guy next to her laughed. It sounded sick though, distorted and wrong, laced with the cruel edge to it, like he thought women were something weak.
You didn’t really know what to think about that.
He obviously considered this was going to be an easy win. No girls on the team, you remember him saying. Guys only. And yeah, that seemed… really unfair to you. You found yourself almost rooting for this girl in your mind.
The girl appeared to remember this too, what the man had said, and she turned to give him a harsh look, one that immediately cut off his laughter. You could tell that pleased the girl, as she turned back to the hoop, facing it with what she probably thought was a calm expression.
She looked nervous.
The girl licked her lips, cocked her head, appeared to be calculating the distance, the wind, the force she would need to throw it. She was a solider sizing up what had to be the most important enemy she had faced so far, having to make sure she didn’t miss, couldn’t miss, and you found your hands clenching in anticipation.
She probably wanted this… /badly/. And – jeez, it sounded, /weird/ honestly, to think that this could be the girl’s dream. Wanting to play basketball on a lousy team in the middle of nowhere. But staring at her, and thinking about the alternative – embarrassing herself in front of a team of basketball players, wanting to play so badly, and then missing the shot and going home and never being allowed to come back and try again…
God, it was really kind of harsh.
She bounced the basket ball, it slapping against the cold ground beneath her, and she took another breath, the man beside her snapping that they don’t have all day, that they wanted to get back to the game.
The girl bit down on her lower lip, stared at the hoop, nodded once, and then the ball was out of her hands, sailing across the sky, towards the hoop.
For one split second, you swore you were in a movie. The way how everyone had quieted, watching the ball slide around the rim of the hoop, fast, (too fast?) and it was miraculously slowing down, and you couldn’t look back at the girl and the guy to see their reactions, because you were too busy having your own.
Was she going to score? Was she going to miss?
Dreams crushed or created?
You felt your breath leave your lungs, felt the hair stand up on your arms, swore as it felt like everything paused.
You watched the ball drop, biting down hard on your lip, completely and utterly in disbelief, staring at where the ball had fallen, sitting against the cold cracked floor harmlessly.
“Damn,” You murmur, before slowly shaking your head.
Everyone else seems to agree.
My first thought takes me back to when my children were little and I didn’t want to work full time until they were in school. I used to buy those ‘little extras’ by selling Tupperware that I would demonstrate at parties. Seems so long ago now!
My brother once joined a group where every member agreed to support the others’ causes, even if they didn’t believe in them. For example, if someone wanted to demonstrate against the university’s medical lab because they used live rats for experiments, everyone would turn up for the protest. The next week, someone else might want to protest the lack of civil rights in some far off country. Again, the whole group would come in support. It made sense to me that my brother belonged to a group like this.
My brother once joined a group that agreed to support one another’s causes, even if they didn’t believe in them. For example, if someone wanted to demonstrate against the university’s medical lab because they used live rats for experiments, everyone would turn up for the protest. The next week, someone else might want to protest the lack of civil rights in some far off country. Again, the whole group would come in support. It made sense to me that my brother belonged to a group like this.
Master Janus stood affront the class, “Like this” he said. He flicked his sword out with such speed that it was nearly impossible to see, but Rickon did. A very slight pause just before the twirl and right after the stab. It was genius, that pause. it broke the beat of fighting and, therefore, would fluster any suitable opponent.
She cuddles close to him, but he keeps his arms crossed. She nudges closer, and he resists.
Yet, only in my mind, could I demonstrate the proper way to treat that perfect lady.
demonstrating some stress actually – it feels like a board race when we were little or something. I think I’d be more comfortable if it were at least 3 minutes. We did activities like that with Nicole for instance and they were fun/cool/productive/evocative and all that great stuff – at least it is cool and let’s you finish up your last sentence altho it would be interesting to see how long it lets you type actually – plus is it watching for end-of-sentence-type punctuation so that it can close you out? we’ll see. I guess not. So that feels much better now – knowing that you could finish your thoughts in relative leisure – well compared to the initial 60-second race anyway. I’m continuing to type not because I want to cheat or fill up the space but I really want to see how long it lets me go. very curious. more coffee in a minute then more work til I conk out. I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow at RC. gah! oh well. this is a very nice amount of writing/space to be dealt each day I must say. whoa! I thought it would stop me there but it lets you keep going. very cool altho I’ll still probably try to use it as a brief energy-sparker slash experiment in succinctness exercise. laters, baby. :)
it would be my utmost pleasure to demonstrate the destructive powers at work here that normally go unseen. But what fun is there in dissolving the mystery?
I want to demonstrate the pros and cons of who I am
But you won’t let me do that, you only ever
Let me demonstrate anything, when it’s my love for you
I don’t think that I can do this anymore, I don’t
Want to show you something you already knew.
demonstrate the correct way to complete this action.
his heart pounded. there was absolutely no way he was going to pass this exam. he really shouldn’t have stayed up watching videos on youtube last night. why oh why didn’t he cram like all his friends had? stupid, STUPID.
Two hands
ten fingers
attached
to two arms
shoulders
clavicles
and a
slender
neck.
Gracefully
gracing
the tides
of all
emotion.
“Do I need to demonstrate the technique to you?” he asked, but his voice was bitter and his eyes distant. “Or do you think you can figure it out on your own?”
You push my hands into the clay,
guiding me with the force of feathers,
gentle, gliding and dipping.
Our hands move methodically.
We create something out of water and earth,
It is beauty incarnate.
The true Mother Nature.
Today I would like to demonstrate my writing skill. How does this have to do wih anything going around here? Well, let us just say, it is an experiment. I guess I shall learn something by doing this exercise. I have not wrote for so long after all.
What happen? Somehow I get another minute to write. So shall I continue? I guess so. But I am currently out of ideas, so I just again restating the title. Demonstrate.
It seems like tis spelt wrong. Are you guys sure you got this right? strata like masterbate. demon like demon. devil and angels. demons straightening out demons. demons masterbating about angels. Don’t cut me off!
Please demonstrate the lab for me. I want to know that you have mastered the skills. Please begin. She took the test tube and with shaking hands poured the solution into the beaker. Immediately the solution began to bubble, first gently and then with vigor.
your love to me give me something to write about. tell me you love me, you need me and I will show you the same. I say I am happy without feeling what love really is but I lie. I want yoy to make me feel what it is.
Show me whatever it is you want to show me.
Just throw your hands into the wind and let it fly.
Have you ever felt more untethered?
A demonstration is your ability to show what you know in a visual presentation. Demonstrating can be easier than telling or writing. It makes things clearer to your audience. It can be empowering and engaging to others.
“Ok. We’ve got one chance to demonstrate how much he means to us.”
He looked through the small window to his best friend, now a broken and unrecognizable man.
He gripped the cold door handle, nodded to the young woman beside him, and opened the door.
show leadership. be an example. funny how my thoughts automatically turn to LEADING. but it just corresponds with what I’m learning in my life right now. LEAD. SHOW HOW TO BE. DEMONSTRATE.
demonstrate your fate
don’t try to clean your slate
its all over now
you’ve fallen under the plow