My education doesn’t need to selective. What I want is for people to stop telling me that selective is better and that I need to be better to be selected. I don’t want to be selected I just want to be invited to learn.
it was time for me to choose. Do I pick the red or green apples today? I sighed. Life’s problems should be this simple. Life’s choices should be simple in the selection.
I am so selective in what I love, eat and breathe. but damn can I not cant a selection to save my damn life. I cannot choose between black or white. I am selectively hearing what you are saying. I am not so selective.
We can be so selective with what it is we wanna hear. I am so selective in what it is we invest our energy in. We can be so unselective not knowing what to choose on Netflix. I am so selective in the person I wanna love.
Being selective is overrated. It’s time for an era of radical inclusivity in which we come together over break apart. Ditch Mean Girls. Ditch country club. Ditch biases, judgments, and select the perspective of “we” > “us vs them”.
It’s a selective process, they tell me. Only one out of every thousand applicants were even called, much less accounting for the number actually selected. Selective… they looked at everything, moving beyond personal history into genetic history. Your family’s records. Everything. And even then, if that was all approved, you still had to have the skillset.
Oh no, moaned the red-headed girl. I hate the word selective. That means some will be left out and that is just not fair. Makes me think of Nazis and Hitler and cruelty. Let us turn it around, to be selective can mean to win – is that a fair trade off?
the world was truly selective in who got what. the rich were often the luckier ones, the poorer being less fortunate. it even went beyond money! the prettier you looked, the more likely you would be able to do things that you wanted.
I don’t have selective hearing but, sometimes I think my frog, Fred, does. He never seems to hear me when I call his name. I just mention the word ”food” and he starts hopping like a maniac( fiction).
I swooned into the streets of LA
from Long Beach,
now I’m prepped to teach,
how we in LB never leach,
here to reach,
for the heavens,
like snoop did, when he was puffing at eleven,
exepect,
the marigold return is what
Im driving back with,
here to click clack my radio knob in,
His attention was selective; he wasn’t sure what he needed to pay attention to, but he knew that there was something there that was out of place. He stared at the photograph for what felt like hours, it had only been seconds. His life depended on him not messing this one up. His fingers outlined the woman in the photograph; had he met her before?
selective hearing killed Mrs Smith – he muttered.
The party next door was sipping through the walls of their one bed apartment. Would someone make it stop.
it stops and i do not want to and it starts and I knOW I MUST; BIG WORDS; LITTLE FEAR; WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE TO BEING SELECTED AND IF NOT THEN I AM SELECTIVE AND MY WORDS ARE HUGE AND BIGGER STILL:
When I think about natural selection, I wonder what that means for me. Am I a mutation that would thrive in the wild? Am I just a bit better than the rest? Or would I be weeded out to make room for stronger stock?
I didn’t think I was going to be so selective about my wife-to-be. Yet here I was, standing in a sterile steel hallway, looking upon mannequin after mannequin as the owner tried to convince me to pick a body model and stick to it.
“After you choose the physical part,” he told me, “you can add the personality!”
It was like the Stepford Wives giving head to the Twilight Zone.
there was nobody more selective than the female mind on a vacation love spree. she scanned every face, every clothing item. she scanned the drinks, finding a meaning for each cocktail and each squeeze of lemon; she scanned the way forks were held, the way tongues were loosened. she analyzed his gait, and she scrutinized his weight. she held his hand and thought of the smoothness of his skin and wished it was more tender still; she opened her arms to him and let him in and wished he was taller and a bit rougher at the edge, but she had selected him many signs of respect ago, and the choice wasn’t a poor one after all.
selective empathy selective mutation selective evolution something about evolution selecting traits trimming down the unneccesary no no no mutations mutate and experiment and create something new slow change that builds up over generations encourage the mutations, a misstep that works better than what was intended, promote the unusual if it works better than the usual, sculpt an accident into an adaptation, into a new way of life
There was a election for kid to be our class president. we had to pick wisely and be selective of who we wanted to be our class president to help our class become better.
After he flipped the switch, it was clear, it was so easy. In the end, there was one answer, and it was never as complicated as it seemed. With only this one answer how was it ever difficult? There is a door and there is a window, one is for airing out dust that collects, and one is for a lifetime of comings and goings, handles unpolished and loved. You don’t open a window to crawl through unless there is a fire, and you don’t use a door to look at the dust that collects on tokens of years gone by. The lights are on, the sun is setting, and little pieces of people and things long gone hang lazily in the air, waiting to be breathed in. Everything had be chosen, everything placed to perfection, and only occasionally a breeze from the window would put it all in disarray. He locks it shut and draws the blinds; there was only ever one door to use. He flips the switch, and in the unease of the dark, decisiveness gives way to sleepless tossing off of blankets and bending blinds not enough to break, but to look out into what the world turns into at night.
She stood in the line of girls, knowing it was pointless to compare herself to the rest of them but unable to stop herself. They were all within the acceptable age range to marry the prince so they had been gathered together to be selected.
The age range was surprisingly large and it was interesting to see the types of women that there were in the city.
I am so selective I sat here looking at this screen for a solid 10 seconds with a thousand ideas and being paralyzed, unable to write even one down. I’m usually so good about word-vomiting and coming up with a thousand ideas, but for whatever reason, I just couldn’t start writing. I thought about being selective with people I date, I thought about how selective I’ve become with my family, how selective I am about my writing, and I just sat there staring at the word, unable to select anything.
“Be selective. Be objective. Be an asset to collective.” I didn’t make up those words, but I always enjoyed them, especially when sung by Jazzy B of Soul II Soul. Their overall stuff was kind of weak and meandering, but they had a couple of big hits.
“I’m just… selective about who I introduce to the media as my friend. I mean, you don’t want things to get weird just because reporters notice you didn’t make it to my birthday party.”
At most primary schools and some high schools, you can do selective subjects, which are like art, music, MDT and Home Ec. Some students really like particular ones, and some hate ones. I like them all.
Also, selective means to have the choice to pick something, rather than to just have someone say, ‘Here is something you have to do, now do it.’
I can’t remember whether I signed up for Selective Service or not… I think I was meaning to but the process was confusing. If Trump gets us into a war and it’s serious enough that they’d draft someone of my abysmally low military value… (see here: ‘bullet fodder’)… Yeah I don’t know where I was going with this but apparently my minute is up so..
She eyed the rows of produce with an almost-wary eye, her cart clattering on the uneven tiles. She preferred shopping in the wee hours of the morning, when most people were asleep and the college kids were home partying. It was quiet. Just her, the cart, and the food. She could take her time. Be picky. Savor the moment.
My education doesn’t need to selective. What I want is for people to stop telling me that selective is better and that I need to be better to be selected. I don’t want to be selected I just want to be invited to learn.
it was time for me to choose. Do I pick the red or green apples today? I sighed. Life’s problems should be this simple. Life’s choices should be simple in the selection.
I am so selective in what I love, eat and breathe. but damn can I not cant a selection to save my damn life. I cannot choose between black or white. I am selectively hearing what you are saying. I am not so selective.
We can be so selective with what it is we wanna hear. I am so selective in what it is we invest our energy in. We can be so unselective not knowing what to choose on Netflix. I am so selective in the person I wanna love.
Being selective is overrated. It’s time for an era of radical inclusivity in which we come together over break apart. Ditch Mean Girls. Ditch country club. Ditch biases, judgments, and select the perspective of “we” > “us vs them”.
It’s a selective process, they tell me. Only one out of every thousand applicants were even called, much less accounting for the number actually selected. Selective… they looked at everything, moving beyond personal history into genetic history. Your family’s records. Everything. And even then, if that was all approved, you still had to have the skillset.
she was selective in who she chose. the entire village knew that. That didnt stop every young child from hoping to become her next student.
Oh no, moaned the red-headed girl. I hate the word selective. That means some will be left out and that is just not fair. Makes me think of Nazis and Hitler and cruelty. Let us turn it around, to be selective can mean to win – is that a fair trade off?
selective species
searching the meaning of life
i know it will happen
i love the universe
and the universe loves me
select courage
act diplomatically
I am very selective about my food. i don’t like tomatoes, but i like tomatoes soup. i am a picky eater
the world was truly selective in who got what. the rich were often the luckier ones, the poorer being less fortunate. it even went beyond money! the prettier you looked, the more likely you would be able to do things that you wanted.
I don’t have selective hearing but, sometimes I think my frog, Fred, does. He never seems to hear me when I call his name. I just mention the word ”food” and he starts hopping like a maniac( fiction).
Her selective choice was not to select him.
I swooned into the streets of LA
from Long Beach,
now I’m prepped to teach,
how we in LB never leach,
here to reach,
for the heavens,
like snoop did, when he was puffing at eleven,
exepect,
the marigold return is what
Im driving back with,
here to click clack my radio knob in,
His attention was selective; he wasn’t sure what he needed to pay attention to, but he knew that there was something there that was out of place. He stared at the photograph for what felt like hours, it had only been seconds. His life depended on him not messing this one up. His fingers outlined the woman in the photograph; had he met her before?
Some are chosen; most are not.
They stand, sullen-eyed and
bowed
by their shoulders’ load.
selective hearing killed Mrs Smith – he muttered.
The party next door was sipping through the walls of their one bed apartment. Would someone make it stop.
it stops and i do not want to and it starts and I knOW I MUST; BIG WORDS; LITTLE FEAR; WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE TO BEING SELECTED AND IF NOT THEN I AM SELECTIVE AND MY WORDS ARE HUGE AND BIGGER STILL:
When I think about natural selection, I wonder what that means for me. Am I a mutation that would thrive in the wild? Am I just a bit better than the rest? Or would I be weeded out to make room for stronger stock?
I didn’t think I was going to be so selective about my wife-to-be. Yet here I was, standing in a sterile steel hallway, looking upon mannequin after mannequin as the owner tried to convince me to pick a body model and stick to it.
“After you choose the physical part,” he told me, “you can add the personality!”
It was like the Stepford Wives giving head to the Twilight Zone.
there was nobody more selective than the female mind on a vacation love spree. she scanned every face, every clothing item. she scanned the drinks, finding a meaning for each cocktail and each squeeze of lemon; she scanned the way forks were held, the way tongues were loosened. she analyzed his gait, and she scrutinized his weight. she held his hand and thought of the smoothness of his skin and wished it was more tender still; she opened her arms to him and let him in and wished he was taller and a bit rougher at the edge, but she had selected him many signs of respect ago, and the choice wasn’t a poor one after all.
selective empathy selective mutation selective evolution something about evolution selecting traits trimming down the unneccesary no no no mutations mutate and experiment and create something new slow change that builds up over generations encourage the mutations, a misstep that works better than what was intended, promote the unusual if it works better than the usual, sculpt an accident into an adaptation, into a new way of life
There was a election for kid to be our class president. we had to pick wisely and be selective of who we wanted to be our class president to help our class become better.
After he flipped the switch, it was clear, it was so easy. In the end, there was one answer, and it was never as complicated as it seemed. With only this one answer how was it ever difficult? There is a door and there is a window, one is for airing out dust that collects, and one is for a lifetime of comings and goings, handles unpolished and loved. You don’t open a window to crawl through unless there is a fire, and you don’t use a door to look at the dust that collects on tokens of years gone by. The lights are on, the sun is setting, and little pieces of people and things long gone hang lazily in the air, waiting to be breathed in. Everything had be chosen, everything placed to perfection, and only occasionally a breeze from the window would put it all in disarray. He locks it shut and draws the blinds; there was only ever one door to use. He flips the switch, and in the unease of the dark, decisiveness gives way to sleepless tossing off of blankets and bending blinds not enough to break, but to look out into what the world turns into at night.
She stood in the line of girls, knowing it was pointless to compare herself to the rest of them but unable to stop herself. They were all within the acceptable age range to marry the prince so they had been gathered together to be selected.
The age range was surprisingly large and it was interesting to see the types of women that there were in the city.
The private school was quite selective. You had to not only have the best grades, best test scores, but also be well-liked by all.
I am so selective I sat here looking at this screen for a solid 10 seconds with a thousand ideas and being paralyzed, unable to write even one down. I’m usually so good about word-vomiting and coming up with a thousand ideas, but for whatever reason, I just couldn’t start writing. I thought about being selective with people I date, I thought about how selective I’ve become with my family, how selective I am about my writing, and I just sat there staring at the word, unable to select anything.
Being selective does not means that you are ignorant. It just shows that yo know what you want in life.
im very selective of my friends and who I can trust with problems and secrets.im selective of my own choices and what decisions I make or choose.
“Be selective. Be objective. Be an asset to collective.” I didn’t make up those words, but I always enjoyed them, especially when sung by Jazzy B of Soul II Soul. Their overall stuff was kind of weak and meandering, but they had a couple of big hits.
“I’m just… selective about who I introduce to the media as my friend. I mean, you don’t want things to get weird just because reporters notice you didn’t make it to my birthday party.”
“You didn’t invite me to your birthday party.”
“Exactly. You understand.”
Surprisingly plenty things in this world are binary, whether you want it or not.
Do not end up regretting your crafty excuses to self..!
At most primary schools and some high schools, you can do selective subjects, which are like art, music, MDT and Home Ec. Some students really like particular ones, and some hate ones. I like them all.
Also, selective means to have the choice to pick something, rather than to just have someone say, ‘Here is something you have to do, now do it.’
I can’t remember whether I signed up for Selective Service or not… I think I was meaning to but the process was confusing. If Trump gets us into a war and it’s serious enough that they’d draft someone of my abysmally low military value… (see here: ‘bullet fodder’)… Yeah I don’t know where I was going with this but apparently my minute is up so..
She eyed the rows of produce with an almost-wary eye, her cart clattering on the uneven tiles. She preferred shopping in the wee hours of the morning, when most people were asleep and the college kids were home partying. It was quiet. Just her, the cart, and the food. She could take her time. Be picky. Savor the moment.