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Is a thing that I see and brings light in to the darkness. makes the image clearer or it can distort. People are treated as objects and not as people..this breaks my heart and I want to change this.
By Jessie Moyer on 12.02.2012
So many men see girls as an object. Something they can play with, toss around, use, and break. I suppose I shouldn’t be unfair though, girls can be just as bad to boys. We all just need to reevaluate how we treat others.
By Jodi URL on 12.02.2012
There was an object inside the crate. Something so rare, and sought after that no man could resist the allure of searching for it once they’d been told the tale. Many men claimed that they’d found it, but there was never any real proof. Some told stories of men going mad after having opened the crate, and seen the object. One day while walking by a jewelry shop I came across a merchant who invited me into his store. He signaled me inside, and told me he’d seen me in a vision the night before. It was a sign from the Gods he said, that I was the chosen one meant to see the wonder inside the crate. Confused beyond belief I was certain that the man was insane, so as I proceeded to leave the shop he quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper, and handed it to me. Upon reading it my eyes widened with disbelief, and fear crept from my feet to my heart. Paralyzed with fear I dropped the paper, and knew this was no ordinary man. How would he know? I’m in a different country with a different language, so how could he know? I went towards him with my faith in him restored, and he showed me the map he’d been given in his vision. I had everything I needed, and set out for a week long journey through India. I’d eventually leave civilization, and go towards the land filled with green pastures. Once there I was to meet a shepherd who would show me the way. Days passed, and I was uncertain whether or not I was going the right way. Part of me wanted to head back home where it was safe, and part of me wanted to find this rare treasure that the man had said I was destined to find. On the fifth day I finally arrived to the land with the green pastures, but there was no shepherd in sight. Exhausted from my long journey, I sat down on a flat rock, and contemplated what my purpose was in being here. Why was I chosen? I closed my eyes, and imagined what the treasure would look like, but it didn’t matter, because there was no material object in this world that would ever make me happy again. It was many months since I even remembered what being happy felt like, and what love even felt like. I sighed a breath filled with loneliness when an old figure stood in front of me, and asked me if I was the man searching for the treasure. Startled by his abrupt presence, I replied weakly, ” Yes, yes I am.” ” Good, come son I will show you the way,” said the Shepherd. Our walk was filled with a burning silence, and so I decided to ask him if he’d had a vision just like the man from the Jewel shop. “Yes, many times I’ve had visions, but never one like this. This one was sent directly by the Gods, and I am not one to ignore such message.” I noticed this shepherd didn’t have his sheep with him, and I wondered why, so I asked,” Where have your sheep gone, Shepherd?” He looked up, and said,” They are roaming nearby. The best way to herd one’s sheep is to give them as much freedom as possible, and in the end they will come back to their home.” Our journey felt endless, and time seemed to pass rather slowly. Like the sheep, I desperately wanted to go back home. The Shepherd said that we’d need to rest for the night, so that the Gods could send him the final piece of the map. The next morning I was curious to see whether or not the Gods did send him the message, so I patiently waited for him to wake up. In the meantime I went to roam around, and see if I could spot a sheep walking about. Having no such luck, I returned to the campsite, and found him sitting on a flat rock meditating. I’d never been particularly interested in meditation, because I always felt impatient while doing it, but there was something so different in the way he meditated. Something was different about the Shepherd, he didn’t look like a Shepherd, he looked more like a king sitting on his throne. He looked so at peace, and it inspired a feeling a awe, and wonder that I felt myself unconsciously preparing myself for mediation. Once I awoke all the colors in the world seemed richer, and I felt at peace. The Shepherd came by me, and said it was time to go. I asked him if he’d received the map last night, and he said no. I was disappointed, and said,” So does that mean that we’ll need to head back?” He said, “No, it came to me in a vision while meditating. Son, when one has true peace, then one is able to find answers, because it is in meditation that one becomes united with the universe, and the universe knows all.” ” Now son, I will walk with you up to here,from this point on it is you who must search for the map, and climb past this mountain.” I was frightened, and said, “But how can you expect me to find my way? I don’t even know where I’m going, or what I’m even looking for.” ” Well then my son, it is important that you answer those questions for yourself before proceeding any further. Search within, and the universe will guide you to the truth,” and with that the good Shepherd left him alone. All he could think of was to meditate, there was a voice inside him that told him to sit, and confer with the universe, so he did just that. When he arose he stood even taller than the mountain, and figured out how to climb it. He realized that the most important thing was not reaching his destination, but to enjoy the journey, even with all it’s struggles. Once having safely crossed the mountain he felt tired, and decided to have a drink of water, so he walked towards the nearby lake that glistened with the shining sun. As he knelt down he saw his reflection, and almost jumped back for he did not recognize the man in the like looking back at him. It had his features: his coffee brown eyes, his curly brown hair, and his full lips, but the demeanor was that of another. He took some water, and then proceeded to where the Gods had told him to go. He was in search of a river that had colored rocks, and rainbow fish swimming inside. When he reached the river it was a glorious thing to behold. It was a beautiful turquoise blue, and sparkled like a polished gem. He could see the little rainbow colored fish, and the colored rocks. He picked up a golden rock, and put it inside his pocket for good luck. After having walked for what seemed like ages, he finally came across the opening to the cave he’d been searching. He stood outside, and couldn’t believe that his long journey was almost over. Cautiously, he entered the cave, and found the trap door he’d seen in his vision. Inside led to a small room where a lonely gold crate sat. He closed his eyes, and opened quickly opened the lid. Once he opened his eyes he saw he wasn’t alone anymore, because standing beside him was all the happiness in the world. His two kids, and wife.
By Romina on 12.02.2012
an object of wait wtf
this is a terrible word
what a terrible OBJECT
what is to come of this
what if the goal of this is to question life
i demand it. can i not write in normal sentences across like this? object. a terrible word.
and i guess im done
By sophie on 12.02.2012
‘Staring at it probably isn’t going to help,’ she whispered. I spun around in my seat only to find I was still alone. ‘What is that thing anyway?’ said the voice once more. But I wasn’t sure. I had no clue as to what was propped up before me. It was very tall and wide. The object had small spikes jutting out at different angles and the colour was sort of off putting. I was terrified of it.
By Nancy URL on 12.02.2012
There are many things about this object. I’m not sure why the object is there. Maybe it’s a scary object. Maybe I’m not being objective enough to take in the object’s beauty. Natural or not. I do love the object. It is not so scary after a first glance. I guess we’re going to have to wait to see how this object affects me in the later future. Probably after this sixty seconds has elapsed. Stupid object.
By Frank on 12.02.2012
You’ve met the little tyke, haven’t you?
Aye, such a handsome little chap, he is.
oh no, don’t get that for him, i must object!
yes, yes, that’s fine. He’ll appreciate them, mate.
By Julia on 12.02.2012
By MissKathy URL on 12.02.2012
I object to this wondrous occasion.
I must object.
I cannot be the only one who feels like this is wrong.
It is wrong.
Maybe my presence alone can show her…
Show her that I only object out of love.
And out of fear.
By Sami URL on 12.02.2012
Objects, memories scattered across the floor. Any where you look, unwelcome tears wait to greet.
By Rachel URL on 12.02.2012
the world around us is an object. It is a living thing it is never just an object. There are things in our lives that are objects but then there are things that are not the things that are not, are the things we value the most. Those are the things that we hold dear to us and our hearts and they are treasures that are held above what is defined to be an object. But the definition of an object is not defined by the dictionary but what we think it really is. Look around you and the first thing you will find is something that is not an object in your life but it is one of your treasures that you hold above that and it is what you hold closest to your heart.
By Rose on 12.02.2012
The object of her affection moved across the room unaware of her gaze. She kept herself to herself except that her thoughts reached out where she withdrew. The sun shifted from one side of the room to the other, still, she remained.
By LailaLCR URL on 12.02.2012
I am the object of subjectivity. I have no idea where exactly I want to go with that one, but it’s hte first thing that popped into my head. POPPYSEEDS. They’re great with lemon and bread. YUM. Hiking! i used to make it when i went hiking. I miss hiking. But I hate bugs. Sometimes I wish I could just go out and live in the woods. But I knwo I can’t. Because then i’d want to live at home.
By kir on 12.02.2012
“You’re just an object,” I say. “A puppet – a tool – in their grand scheme.”
He shakes his head, and for once, I see a little bit of anger flare up behind his eyes. “You’re wrong,” he says. “Objects don’t get to choose. I did.”
“You didn’t choose!” I say, pleading for him to understand. “They’re tricking you – letting you believe you had some say in the matter.”
“No,” he growls, his voice low. “You’re dead wrong.”
By Abbey URL on 12.02.2012
I object to writing about the word object. Object is and object that I object to. I will not stand for this objection. I will not be treated like an object.
By Hawke on 12.02.2012
The object of her affection was easy to find but wasn’t readily asked for. After several disappointing days I finally broke down and got it for her after her dismay of me not doing it without her asking. I do love her so.
By Sean URL on 12.02.2012
Look yonder! What’s that shiny object over there yelled James in his squeaky voice which he hated so much. Mariam is older sister slightly shy yelled what are seeing? I don’t see anything shiny!? How about we journey yonder to take a closer look?
By BriannaNicole URL on 12.02.2012
stepped on. the pain radiating from between the toes up the foot and to the calf. lego pain is unmistakable and unforgettable.
stupid little snot.
leaving his toys out like he owns the place.
gonna wring his little neck.
son of a … me.
By Lj URL on 12.02.2012
Look yonder! What’s that shiny object over there yelled James in his squeaky voice which he hated so much. Mariam his older sister slightly shy, yelled what are seeing? I don’t see anything shiny!? How about we journey yonder to take a closer look? First one there, get’s to keep it! While having the advantage before the words even uttered from his lips James knew not awaited for him on the other side of the field.
You are the object of my affection,the rhythm of my heart, the crease in my smile the only one for me!
By ldydai22 URL on 12.02.2012
a thing which can be used in order to come to some achievable goal. therefore an object is nothing more than a thing. We should not get attached to things as they consume our lives and destroy our talent I should be getting back to cleaning my room rather than playing on the computer. Which is an object. Damn it.
By Kore on 12.02.2012
It was. Never again will it be. This strangeness that compensated the heart of the city, this object, it took from the world that which had rooted it’s every action and built tremendous achievements.
By Oz Nolem URL on 12.02.2012
I like objects a lot. I have a lot of objects around me. Like my bed and my phone and my water and my chair and my TV. I have too many objects I think. I know people who hardly have any objects. I wish I could give them some of my objects. I don’t need them all.
By Lana Waltosz on 12.02.2012
The object flew past my face. I turned and looked at you. Are you crazy?? I thought. I hope the expression on my face conveyed what I was thinking. You obviously did not get the message, a sinister smirk lurked on your face, while I was still furious.
By Ellis URL on 12.02.2012
The object of my affection. Isn’t that a movie or something? I think it’s called something else, but do you know what I’m talking about? The one with Jenn Aniston and Paul Rudd? It was basically the only non-funny movie that Paul Rudd was in.
By Evelyn URL on 12.02.2012
I object to the way I live my life because it’s hardly living.
I object to to feeling as though everyone is above me, even though I don’t know how to feel any other way.
I object to the idea that I cannot be whoever I want to be, even though I don’t know who I am at all.
I object to each breath I’m breathing, because it’s a breath I did nothing with.
By Tarryn URL on 12.02.2012
The gavel grows heavy in his honour, the King of Hearts’, hand before the silence is broken by the Hatter. “I object” he shouts, and Alice slips beneath their eyes, out of sight.
By tyleridd URL on 12.02.2012
it sat in a box under the stairs. i don’t know what it was doing there, but we never moved it, though we always knew it was there. mom didn’t speak of it, dad didn’t look at it, everyone ignored it. my sister and i were the only one’s to see it. we would creep down in the middle of the night just to get a look. we didn’t know what it was, or what it did, but it was a secret. a secret we would keep forever.
By Jamie Hartinger on 12.02.2012
There’s an object sitting up in the attic, a crystalline shape attached to a string. It used to hang in the window and spin and catch the light, dizzying and faceted, bending the sunrays back and forth on one another in convoluted bands and patterns. I want to make my way up to find it, dig it out from the rubble, sift through the trash and the treasure that’s piled its way up in that dark, musty space.
By Amy Hartman on 12.02.2012
The objective is to get him to propose.
By AngelDuCiel URL on 12.02.2012
There it stood. Lifeless, dull, and inanimate. Slumped over with a lonely expression on its face, like that of an abandoned object, once belonging to someone, once loved, nurtured, and cared for, it stared only at the austere concrete floor despite the beads of tears streaming down its tender cheek.
By Deborah Lin URL on 12.02.2012
a simple object (action)
a thousand mistakes (thoughts)
By Jackie on 12.02.2012
“You see, Inspector… What was it,” the short man asked, tipping his hat apolojeticly. “Barns. Thomas Barns,” the older man replied with slight annoyance. “Oh! Quite sorry about that. Anyway, the object at hand is very, very dangerous.”
By Daisy on 12.02.2012
The object loomed ahead in the darkness. What was it? She moved slowly toward it, her feet silent in the fresh snow. She squinted, searching for possible threats as she moved; everything seemed eerily quiet. Was it nothing important in the distance, or was the object ahead a trap?
By Lexi URL on 12.02.2012
I’m thinking too abstractly at this concept. Objects, all objects, nothing is object-less. Everything is then….objective? I don’t know anymore. I used to think that everything was subjective…but then what is a subject but an object?
By creepestbloom URL on 12.02.2012
an object is not a women. and object is materialistic. my computer.my phone.my blanket.my arm.my face.my nipple.my posters.a wooden block. the tv. I dont know what to write ha
By Hannah URL on 12.02.2012
My object is the one that matters most. It shall be the object of all objects, and that now it is about to be murdered, i shall give it the best recognition I have ever given.
By Rusam De las Reyes on 12.02.2012
Before I can object, I find myself shoved headlong into the back of a waiting car.
“Don’t struggle,” a cheerful voice advises me. “The worst part is almost over now…”
By WearyWater URL on 12.02.2012
The object of her desire stood there, much more than object though. It masked the ugliness she felt, it masked the pain she hid, it made her beautiful. It made her smile. It glistened in the light. She desired this more than anything in the world. The walls around her hung with similar items, varying in color, but this one that stood only 4 feet in front of her nearly in her reach, was the dress she would wear down the isle on her wedding day.
By Mikki Valentine on 12.02.2012
i can’t name a single object
because there’s too many.
they seem irrelevant but
for some reason
they take precedence over
things we actually own
own as in are born with
not own as in attain through conquering
By polly on 12.02.2012
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.