Outlet Malls, my family used to go to one all the time when I was little. It was pretty much all outside and we would walk around as if it were a normal mall, except everything was outside. I loved going there, always made me smile, but it was always A LOT of walking.
you put one thing into another, life is created. sparks, fire, electricity, cool, necessary, looks like an anime face. great invention, good intention. you find them everywhere, sometimes you can’t find any. they’re cool.
I can’t stand the outlet in the wall. Its electricity courses through my veins everytime I look at it. Every single cell in my body despises the outlet in the wall. It hates me too. So I took it off the wall.
And then there was a door, a big blue door behind which there was something absolutely terrifying. You knew there was but you didn’t know what. If you opened the door just a crack then you would see the outline of something blurry, nothing more.
She stared at her painting. It was her outlet, her way of escaping the horrors that she had done. What she was still doing. It was her only way to stay sane. Right now, she was painting a nature scene, from when she was a child. Oh how she loved it there.
I was hanging out in the outlet the other day with a bunch of friends. THe day was cloudy but still enjoyable. We always hang out there, do nothign and maybe drink a few beers.
But that day was different. That day I met her.
She was the most amazing woman I have ever met. Older than me, in so many ways.
the outlet grew bigger and bigger the longer he stared at it. He could hear the rushing of the water, the outlet was broken. Oh god, he bagan to run, faster and faster he ran but to no avail. The water came from the outlet and drowned him.
sometimes people need an outlet to talk to about their feelings. an outlet understands and will listen and provide honest feedback. an outlet isnt judgmental. an outlet has respect for the person that they are talking to and wants to help the person.
i knew the stream system better than anyone. it wasn’t diffult to guess which route he would take. I followed a parralling stream and waited at the outlet. I win again, I thought as I leaned against a fallen tree trunk and looked for signs of his approach.
A power outlet. Careful don’t put your fingers in it or you’ll get a shock. If you want a better outcome bring your credit card and purse and get going to a shopping outlet. A deal is a deal. Sometimes the outcome is better then others but getting shocked or getting a good deal on clothes will definitely both create a reaction and emotions, things that are sometimes needed to remind yourself your alive.
He was her outlet. She told him everything. But it wasn’t always good, and he hated her for that. Of course, he’d never let on to this heavy detail. Anything she said, he listened. He listened, but that didn’t mean that he cared. Because he didn’t. She thought he did. If she’d known he couldn’t give a fuck, she would have died.
Shopping or the person/place you can discuss all your problems. Maybe if you’re thirsty you could get something drinkable from here. Maybe a river has traveled a long way
freedom. let go. venting emtions. feel again. breath agan. Here I am, just I. I am going to release all underlying feelings, and sing an unrestrained melody. I am going…going…gone.
today was a bad day, tomorrow will be better.
yeah, tomorrow, there’s always tomorrow. Is there?
The outlet was put in upside down, and when the electrical inspector came in to inspect the condo, he looked at it a gave the worker a dirty look like, really?
Music is my outlet for inner peace! Especially this year, that I’ll have to be very focused on studies for college… and listening to music helps me o lot; it keeps me relaxed and calm, open-minded.
Either I can think about outlet as that thing where I plug my computer, which is also where I listen to music or talk to my friends, no matter where they are.
I needed an outlet for my thoughts. So I bought a journal… a small little notebook that is basically my mind dump. In only three months I’ve told it so much; it’s a part of me, I take it with me wherever I go. It hasn’t replaced you… I think it’s only made me more comfortable with you. I think it has allowed me to accept things more readily, to think more closely, to really get to know who I am.
The outlet sparked.
“Oh,” I remarked to myself, “that can’t be good.”
Stupidly, I knelt down on the floor to get a better look.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
It sparked again. This time one of the sparks hit my nose.
I cried out, expecting pain.
But it didn’t hurt.
In fact it kind of tickled.
store. they sell stuff cheap. i enjoy shopping at outlet stores. theres a pass in basketball called an outlet pass. its very hard to master. i seen it in the 2011 nba all star game. i no that outlet stores r ussually in upstate new york for some reason and never in the city. i hate drving that far jsut to shop.
Don’t stick your finger in the outlet. And that includes using other objects as a finger. I did it once. The doctor said my eyebrows would grow back, but it’s been 3 years now… I really want my eyebrows back…
“I dont like DFO it always says that its an outlet store, but really the prices are just as high as normal places”, Simone said to her friend Jan.
“Yeah but we arent going to the one at Southern Cross Station, we’ll go to the one at South Bank, the new one
Its what the Americans call a Power Point. It’s a passageway to release – whether it be releasing emotion, a symptom, a type of waste. An outlet for my impatience is praying. An outlet for my creativity is coming onto sites like this when i really should be asking my boss if there is anything I can do – to be a team player :-) An outlet for my love is my husband although its not an outlet that needs to ‘get rid’ of something, that is an outlet for something never ending.
wall, power, plug a cord into it. powers a vacuum. powers my computer. I stuck tweezers in one when i was 8 years old. came out of the bathroom with my hair on end and white eyes. looks like a face. better not get water into it.
He was tired. He’d gone to the store and brought back the plug. The one thing that’d finish off his home cinema perfectly. He found the electric outlet and pushed the metal forks into the recessed holes. 244 volts later he was dead.
His chubby little index finger, covered in slobber, slowly approached the electrical outlet. His other other index finger sat between his lips, as he nibbled on it in quiet anticipation, unaware of the consequences of what he was about to do.
You know you hav eit bad when you have no outlet for everything. Zan has me, and i have her. i also have my writing, though. the outlet store, doesn’t ahve the sme effect that zan and my writing do. if you were to be in my shoes for five mminutes, you would see what i’m going through, what i’m feeling. i think i might love zan. i’m not sure.
Writing is my outlet for stress, pain, and suffering. It relieves me of everything that bothers me, and without my ability to write, I’d probably be dead.
my writing is my only outlet for my writing. it helps me through a lot of things, because i can write myself out of sitiuations and write myself into other situations and write myself in different lives and as different people than the life i’m living and the person i am. if you made me stop writing,i think i might have to kill someone somehow. because you just don’t do that to me.
I have an outlet, an outlet for writing, it’s WordPress. I can vent, complain, put out ideas on this blog. writingmatthew.wordpress.com I put drama, poetry, rants.
She is his escape. He goes to her only when he can’t stand it anymore, when he’s unraveling; something that’s becoming frighteningly frequent. He seeks her out when life becomes unbareable, when his parents scream and his friends reject him, when he can never have the one he wants…when that one scoffs at him and averts his gaze. It’s probably disgust, but he sometimes tricks himself into believing it’s guilt.
She is his shame, his weakness, his dirty secret. He doesn’t know what makes him feel worse: the shit he has to deal with, or the fact that she knows and says nothing -that maybe her life is shit too and she let’s herself be the outlet instead of having her own; that he’s too self-absorbed to ask.
I plug my computer into an outlet. My computer holds my life. My life filled with music and pictures and useless hours on the internet learning more about other people than myself. Kind of counterproductive.
An outlet for creativity or an outlet mall. Different meanings, and yet both appeal greatly to me. My inner writer yearns for ways to write, much like this website. My inner woman yearns for the clothes.
your mind is an outlet. ready to be plugged into and utilised. but not releasing it’s full potential until it is used. we are all an outlet. feelings emotions acts. everything comes from the same source. just through a different exit. we are all one. we are all individuals.
Outlet Malls, my family used to go to one all the time when I was little. It was pretty much all outside and we would walk around as if it were a normal mall, except everything was outside. I loved going there, always made me smile, but it was always A LOT of walking.
you put one thing into another, life is created. sparks, fire, electricity, cool, necessary, looks like an anime face. great invention, good intention. you find them everywhere, sometimes you can’t find any. they’re cool.
I can’t stand the outlet in the wall. Its electricity courses through my veins everytime I look at it. Every single cell in my body despises the outlet in the wall. It hates me too. So I took it off the wall.
And then there was a door, a big blue door behind which there was something absolutely terrifying. You knew there was but you didn’t know what. If you opened the door just a crack then you would see the outline of something blurry, nothing more.
She stared at her painting. It was her outlet, her way of escaping the horrors that she had done. What she was still doing. It was her only way to stay sane. Right now, she was painting a nature scene, from when she was a child. Oh how she loved it there.
I was hanging out in the outlet the other day with a bunch of friends. THe day was cloudy but still enjoyable. We always hang out there, do nothign and maybe drink a few beers.
But that day was different. That day I met her.
She was the most amazing woman I have ever met. Older than me, in so many ways.
the outlet grew bigger and bigger the longer he stared at it. He could hear the rushing of the water, the outlet was broken. Oh god, he bagan to run, faster and faster he ran but to no avail. The water came from the outlet and drowned him.
sometimes people need an outlet to talk to about their feelings. an outlet understands and will listen and provide honest feedback. an outlet isnt judgmental. an outlet has respect for the person that they are talking to and wants to help the person.
i knew the stream system better than anyone. it wasn’t diffult to guess which route he would take. I followed a parralling stream and waited at the outlet. I win again, I thought as I leaned against a fallen tree trunk and looked for signs of his approach.
traveling towards
the portal
finding your way
through darkness
runs
the path to light
finding
the direction of out
is something my dad is taking a shower.
A power outlet. Careful don’t put your fingers in it or you’ll get a shock. If you want a better outcome bring your credit card and purse and get going to a shopping outlet. A deal is a deal. Sometimes the outcome is better then others but getting shocked or getting a good deal on clothes will definitely both create a reaction and emotions, things that are sometimes needed to remind yourself your alive.
He was her outlet. She told him everything. But it wasn’t always good, and he hated her for that. Of course, he’d never let on to this heavy detail. Anything she said, he listened. He listened, but that didn’t mean that he cared. Because he didn’t. She thought he did. If she’d known he couldn’t give a fuck, she would have died.
Shopping or the person/place you can discuss all your problems. Maybe if you’re thirsty you could get something drinkable from here. Maybe a river has traveled a long way
freedom. let go. venting emtions. feel again. breath agan. Here I am, just I. I am going to release all underlying feelings, and sing an unrestrained melody. I am going…going…gone.
today was a bad day, tomorrow will be better.
yeah, tomorrow, there’s always tomorrow. Is there?
The outlet was put in upside down, and when the electrical inspector came in to inspect the condo, he looked at it a gave the worker a dirty look like, really?
Music is my outlet for inner peace! Especially this year, that I’ll have to be very focused on studies for college… and listening to music helps me o lot; it keeps me relaxed and calm, open-minded.
Either I can think about outlet as that thing where I plug my computer, which is also where I listen to music or talk to my friends, no matter where they are.
I needed an outlet for my thoughts. So I bought a journal… a small little notebook that is basically my mind dump. In only three months I’ve told it so much; it’s a part of me, I take it with me wherever I go. It hasn’t replaced you… I think it’s only made me more comfortable with you. I think it has allowed me to accept things more readily, to think more closely, to really get to know who I am.
Standing on this stage
Sea of souls soaking up alcohol
I tell you all my secrets
without saying a word
you see it in my face
and i am alone
hello my name is stefan and i want to have under may shoulder a girl like C.c because is amazing and inteligent
The outlet sparked.
“Oh,” I remarked to myself, “that can’t be good.”
Stupidly, I knelt down on the floor to get a better look.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
It sparked again. This time one of the sparks hit my nose.
I cried out, expecting pain.
But it didn’t hurt.
In fact it kind of tickled.
store. they sell stuff cheap. i enjoy shopping at outlet stores. theres a pass in basketball called an outlet pass. its very hard to master. i seen it in the 2011 nba all star game. i no that outlet stores r ussually in upstate new york for some reason and never in the city. i hate drving that far jsut to shop.
Don’t stick your finger in the outlet. And that includes using other objects as a finger. I did it once. The doctor said my eyebrows would grow back, but it’s been 3 years now… I really want my eyebrows back…
in and out went the push valve
inlet sucking gasses
outlet spewing fumes
the earth was in the balance
“I dont like DFO it always says that its an outlet store, but really the prices are just as high as normal places”, Simone said to her friend Jan.
“Yeah but we arent going to the one at Southern Cross Station, we’ll go to the one at South Bank, the new one
I like outlet stores. You can get good prices there. Especially if they’re designer outlets.
There was no
outlet
for her whipping
frenetic
thoughts.
Its what the Americans call a Power Point. It’s a passageway to release – whether it be releasing emotion, a symptom, a type of waste. An outlet for my impatience is praying. An outlet for my creativity is coming onto sites like this when i really should be asking my boss if there is anything I can do – to be a team player :-) An outlet for my love is my husband although its not an outlet that needs to ‘get rid’ of something, that is an outlet for something never ending.
wall, power, plug a cord into it. powers a vacuum. powers my computer. I stuck tweezers in one when i was 8 years old. came out of the bathroom with my hair on end and white eyes. looks like a face. better not get water into it.
He was tired. He’d gone to the store and brought back the plug. The one thing that’d finish off his home cinema perfectly. He found the electric outlet and pushed the metal forks into the recessed holes. 244 volts later he was dead.
tommy used to take pam outside, lube her up with corn oil and sodomise her. A fine outlet for any gladiator
His chubby little index finger, covered in slobber, slowly approached the electrical outlet. His other other index finger sat between his lips, as he nibbled on it in quiet anticipation, unaware of the consequences of what he was about to do.
You know you hav eit bad when you have no outlet for everything. Zan has me, and i have her. i also have my writing, though. the outlet store, doesn’t ahve the sme effect that zan and my writing do. if you were to be in my shoes for five mminutes, you would see what i’m going through, what i’m feeling. i think i might love zan. i’m not sure.
Writing is my outlet for stress, pain, and suffering. It relieves me of everything that bothers me, and without my ability to write, I’d probably be dead.
my writing is my only outlet for my writing. it helps me through a lot of things, because i can write myself out of sitiuations and write myself into other situations and write myself in different lives and as different people than the life i’m living and the person i am. if you made me stop writing,i think i might have to kill someone somehow. because you just don’t do that to me.
I have an outlet, an outlet for writing, it’s WordPress. I can vent, complain, put out ideas on this blog. writingmatthew.wordpress.com I put drama, poetry, rants.
She is his escape. He goes to her only when he can’t stand it anymore, when he’s unraveling; something that’s becoming frighteningly frequent. He seeks her out when life becomes unbareable, when his parents scream and his friends reject him, when he can never have the one he wants…when that one scoffs at him and averts his gaze. It’s probably disgust, but he sometimes tricks himself into believing it’s guilt.
She is his shame, his weakness, his dirty secret. He doesn’t know what makes him feel worse: the shit he has to deal with, or the fact that she knows and says nothing -that maybe her life is shit too and she let’s herself be the outlet instead of having her own; that he’s too self-absorbed to ask.
I plug my computer into an outlet. My computer holds my life. My life filled with music and pictures and useless hours on the internet learning more about other people than myself. Kind of counterproductive.
An outlet for creativity or an outlet mall. Different meanings, and yet both appeal greatly to me. My inner writer yearns for ways to write, much like this website. My inner woman yearns for the clothes.
your mind is an outlet. ready to be plugged into and utilised. but not releasing it’s full potential until it is used. we are all an outlet. feelings emotions acts. everything comes from the same source. just through a different exit. we are all one. we are all individuals.