well when I see the word televised I think of me on the really big screen at Times Square new york. you know like one of the ones on the corner of the building. Idk I just imagine me there and a bnch of families gather
It was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. It was the televised event of the year and they would not be in it. He wouldn’t watch it. He’d want to but he wouldn’t. The feel of the grass and smell of sweat on the guys. It wouldn’t happen this year. Couldn’t be every year. Or ever again. Some people don’t get second chances.
Televised is a nasty word. Televising always reminds me of 1984 and yuck. Televise refers to things that aren’t necesarrily meant for tv that get put on anyways. Why can’t we all just enjoy the event in the moment, why “televise” it?
the program was always televised at the same time in the evening. the familiar voice came on the screen as the title rolled into place. the screen went dark, then a small light started to glow in the center illuminating the face of the nation.
The national game was televised. Little did they know, that the bone prodding it’s way out of the flesh would be televised, too. Gasps emerged from the crowds as the screams of pain from a grown man grew louder and louder.
If my thoughts were posted on the tv screen. If my heart was hung for every one to see.
If you knew every side of me. In your eyes who would i be.
Do you know who i am or who you see. Do you understand my reality .
Dose my reflection show what i am inside.Or do you like me better when i hide.
Televised, it was
I stood there is the way I could describe myself when I cam on the television
Man, what a day
The sun was shining and my hair looked like a mess
Everyone would see this and go, hey, look, your hair looked like a mess that day
Please everyone, just shut up.
Go away
Man, what a day
That day I was on a television.
On the tv. Like Leno, or Jay Z or something.
Waste of time. Televised.
The entire wedding would be televised on every oblong, platinum screen, the glow of silver and gold in the eyes of every chip-bloated, beer-bubbling civilian. The ceremony of the gods, complete with crowns of laurels that blinded the humility of the groom and bride. Everyone in the country would be watching, and everyone would be awed and inspired.
Then they’d return to their magazines and microwave dinners and lattes, and no one would give a fragment of a shit about the new Queen What’s-her-name.
And of course, if you didn’t want people to notice what you were doing, involving a nationally televised event was a bad idea. But Killen was hoping that most people would consider it such a horrendously bad idea that they didn’t give it a second thought.
I guess I shouldn’t have killed him. Not like that. I had forgotten the cameras, the crew, the audience. Blind rage had taken over my mind and I had been unale to contorl my thoughts and actions. Weak, on my part, I know. How could I forget them?
She was televised on the news broadcast. Shaking, the demure mouse explained the situation she was in. “There was no food, no food..” She repeats.. “I was stuck there for days.” The news broadcaster looks her in her sad little eyes, wishing to hold her close. “Thank you for sharing, Freya.”
“…the event will be televised, of course,”
I sighed. “Is that your not so subtle way of telling me to plead my case with Celine?”
Roderick smiled. “Not at all, my lady. But, if you don’t want to look like a street urchin upon arrival, I’d suggest you call one of this city’s many stylists. It needn’t necessarily be Miss Ricard,”
The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will be live. “Of course,” Marie thought, finding herself very, very lost at 1 am in L.A.’s Skid Row district. “Gil Scott-Heron was, unfortunately, right.”
Everything televised creates an unrealistic view of how life should be lived for the society that views it. Most things on tv are irrational and create high, unneeded expectations for ourselves and those around us.
Ugh… Dear god, why was that stupid show televised? The plot makes no sense, the characters are poorly drawn and are complete fools, and there is no good moral. Hell, it’s supposed to be a kid’s show!
I think my time is up. as a television host I was alwyays respected, until I killed the little boy under the stage. It wasn’t wise, I suppose. Of course it wasn’t. Even less wise than being caught in the act. How did I miss the crowd next to me, above me, all around me? Maybe I’m worse than I think. I’m such a good person. Right?
Twenty years from now, we’ll never leave our living rooms. Tuned in, zoned out on a rectangle that glows just soft enough to tickle the back of our brains, staving off the need to think for just a few minutes… hours… days…?
I would give anything for that big break. I would drop everything that I’ve accomplished (and that certainly is not nothing) to have an opportunity, To be someone known. To be someone seen. To be someone. Because I think they’d like me. And then maybe I would too.
“watch me” the face said to me a telltale hamlet beckoning me to draw myself in “now listen to what you must do” and i listened to what i must do he was very handsome clean shaven very lovely hair that was my mistake “are you listening?” yes i am, i am
Every time NBC airs the footage of 9/11, I get choked up and I don’t want to see it, but my eyes end up being glued to the screen anyway. I’m the first one in my family to say that the tragedy shouldn’t be replayed on the anniversary, or televised at all. I lost someone that day, and seeing the flames engulf the buildings tears me up inside. I don’t know if I’ll ever heal…
They stood there, hand in had, in one of the most impressive and powerful moments of television history.
They took each other into the hearts and minds forever. Gay, Straight, inter-racial.
The power of it, was amazing.
Anything stupid that is televised just makes me angry because it’s spreading the stupidity onto other generations that definitely dont need to be exposed to that shit by the media. The worst part of televised crap is the fact that people i interact with start to spread it around and it’s horrible.
Highlighted, fast-reeled, televised. Put on picture for the acquisition of viewers and dimes. Our highest moments, our lowest moments, all put on for show. With stories so easily shared, and heart ache on display for all to feel. Why is it that we are becoming all impersonalised.
There was another disaster on the screen today. This wasn’t anything now of course; there was always some world-breaking event being televised on the media screens these days. ‘There’s not going to be any clean water two years from now’.
Here, there, everywhere I turn- it’s always with me. Following me around, telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t fit the right mold. My mind can’t understand this televised world and this televised world controls my mind.
The event was televised. The murder of young adults over the age of twenty. They had done nothing wrong. Nothing worthy of murder. And yet no one tried to stop it. And now it was over. Done. They were gone simply because they were different. Mutated. Wonderfully supernatural. Gone. Senseless and rash at it was, it seemed to quiet the raging crowds or angry parents and ethnocentric religious.
The zigzag of static temporarily decapitated the mayor. Sonia and I leaned forward on the couch, as if being closer would make the fuzzy, growling audio come in clearer. I still remember her hand wrapped around mine so hard that I started to lose feeling, the sweat of her palms.
The marketplace was televised. Every day at noon, cameramen would show up and televise Mrs. Dowell shouting “Cookies are up!” The amount of people that rushed to the humble cookie stand was ghastly.
The hot dog eating contest was being televised. I was going to die. I mean, I loved the steaming puppies, but did I want my algebra teacher and grandmother to watch me scarf down ten in one sitting? That’s a definite negative.,
“This is outrageous!” Lexie exclaimed, bounding off the couch. She moved to turn the TV off, physically unable to stomach another of the senator’s absurd remarks. “We have to do something about this. It’s fascism!”
“Yeah, sure. And the revolution will be televised,” Paul snarked, knowing full well there was nothing they could do.
I saw recent fragments of my life televised – I had no idea I’d become so pathetic – I remember myself misguided, yes, but interesting at least, because I lived like a wild novel, each chapter full with conflict, redneck vs. southern belle, dumbass vs. logical thinker, reasoned vs. intuitive… How’d I get stripped back to zero? Bygod, I’ll have the producer’s head on a platter, served with every finger of the script writer, and for desert I’ll have the cameraman’s balls drizzled with white chocolate!
Our old, rickety television switched on, making a loud crackling sound. My heart beat wildly. I flipped through the channels, desperate to find the right one. Suddenly, I found it. It was there on TV; televised and clear as day. That was the last thing I remember before a sea of blackness swept over me…
He saw her on the television. He didn’t know her name. She was that girl, the one from primary school that was always wearing the yellow sneakers and the Red glasses.
I walked into the room where the murder was being televised. The woman had tears running down her face as the masked man held a gun to her head. She pleaded with the man to let her go but he refused.
It was televised the next night. Everything that I had done, said, and what was done to me. All on the damn TV. I just want to run to a place where no one knows me. Where there are no televisions anywhere!
well when I see the word televised I think of me on the really big screen at Times Square new york. you know like one of the ones on the corner of the building. Idk I just imagine me there and a bnch of families gather
It was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. It was the televised event of the year and they would not be in it. He wouldn’t watch it. He’d want to but he wouldn’t. The feel of the grass and smell of sweat on the guys. It wouldn’t happen this year. Couldn’t be every year. Or ever again. Some people don’t get second chances.
Her eyes.
Always her eyes.
They telegraphed whatever was going on.
Never mind windows to the soul,
they televised that shit
and sent it global
Televised is a nasty word. Televising always reminds me of 1984 and yuck. Televise refers to things that aren’t necesarrily meant for tv that get put on anyways. Why can’t we all just enjoy the event in the moment, why “televise” it?
the program was always televised at the same time in the evening. the familiar voice came on the screen as the title rolled into place. the screen went dark, then a small light started to glow in the center illuminating the face of the nation.
The national game was televised. Little did they know, that the bone prodding it’s way out of the flesh would be televised, too. Gasps emerged from the crowds as the screams of pain from a grown man grew louder and louder.
when you appear in a television. when you see yourself in a television
If my thoughts were posted on the tv screen. If my heart was hung for every one to see.
If you knew every side of me. In your eyes who would i be.
Do you know who i am or who you see. Do you understand my reality .
Dose my reflection show what i am inside.Or do you like me better when i hide.
an image is worth a thousand words so why not take images and then add words on top
television
Televised, it was
I stood there is the way I could describe myself when I cam on the television
Man, what a day
The sun was shining and my hair looked like a mess
Everyone would see this and go, hey, look, your hair looked like a mess that day
Please everyone, just shut up.
Go away
Man, what a day
That day I was on a television.
On the tv. Like Leno, or Jay Z or something.
Waste of time. Televised.
The entire wedding would be televised on every oblong, platinum screen, the glow of silver and gold in the eyes of every chip-bloated, beer-bubbling civilian. The ceremony of the gods, complete with crowns of laurels that blinded the humility of the groom and bride. Everyone in the country would be watching, and everyone would be awed and inspired.
Then they’d return to their magazines and microwave dinners and lattes, and no one would give a fragment of a shit about the new Queen What’s-her-name.
And of course, if you didn’t want people to notice what you were doing, involving a nationally televised event was a bad idea. But Killen was hoping that most people would consider it such a horrendously bad idea that they didn’t give it a second thought.
Likely story in colour, dancing across the inside lids of my eyes
A limitless imagination,
Exclusive to this station,
Ready to rape and mesmerise
I guess I shouldn’t have killed him. Not like that. I had forgotten the cameras, the crew, the audience. Blind rage had taken over my mind and I had been unale to contorl my thoughts and actions. Weak, on my part, I know. How could I forget them?
She was televised on the news broadcast. Shaking, the demure mouse explained the situation she was in. “There was no food, no food..” She repeats.. “I was stuck there for days.” The news broadcaster looks her in her sad little eyes, wishing to hold her close. “Thank you for sharing, Freya.”
“…the event will be televised, of course,”
I sighed. “Is that your not so subtle way of telling me to plead my case with Celine?”
Roderick smiled. “Not at all, my lady. But, if you don’t want to look like a street urchin upon arrival, I’d suggest you call one of this city’s many stylists. It needn’t necessarily be Miss Ricard,”
The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will be live. “Of course,” Marie thought, finding herself very, very lost at 1 am in L.A.’s Skid Row district. “Gil Scott-Heron was, unfortunately, right.”
Everything televised creates an unrealistic view of how life should be lived for the society that views it. Most things on tv are irrational and create high, unneeded expectations for ourselves and those around us.
Ugh… Dear god, why was that stupid show televised? The plot makes no sense, the characters are poorly drawn and are complete fools, and there is no good moral. Hell, it’s supposed to be a kid’s show!
I think my time is up. as a television host I was alwyays respected, until I killed the little boy under the stage. It wasn’t wise, I suppose. Of course it wasn’t. Even less wise than being caught in the act. How did I miss the crowd next to me, above me, all around me? Maybe I’m worse than I think. I’m such a good person. Right?
Twenty years from now, we’ll never leave our living rooms. Tuned in, zoned out on a rectangle that glows just soft enough to tickle the back of our brains, staving off the need to think for just a few minutes… hours… days…?
I would give anything for that big break. I would drop everything that I’ve accomplished (and that certainly is not nothing) to have an opportunity, To be someone known. To be someone seen. To be someone. Because I think they’d like me. And then maybe I would too.
“watch me” the face said to me a telltale hamlet beckoning me to draw myself in “now listen to what you must do” and i listened to what i must do he was very handsome clean shaven very lovely hair that was my mistake “are you listening?” yes i am, i am
Every time NBC airs the footage of 9/11, I get choked up and I don’t want to see it, but my eyes end up being glued to the screen anyway. I’m the first one in my family to say that the tragedy shouldn’t be replayed on the anniversary, or televised at all. I lost someone that day, and seeing the flames engulf the buildings tears me up inside. I don’t know if I’ll ever heal…
They stood there, hand in had, in one of the most impressive and powerful moments of television history.
They took each other into the hearts and minds forever. Gay, Straight, inter-racial.
The power of it, was amazing.
Anything stupid that is televised just makes me angry because it’s spreading the stupidity onto other generations that definitely dont need to be exposed to that shit by the media. The worst part of televised crap is the fact that people i interact with start to spread it around and it’s horrible.
Highlighted, fast-reeled, televised. Put on picture for the acquisition of viewers and dimes. Our highest moments, our lowest moments, all put on for show. With stories so easily shared, and heart ache on display for all to feel. Why is it that we are becoming all impersonalised.
There was another disaster on the screen today. This wasn’t anything now of course; there was always some world-breaking event being televised on the media screens these days. ‘There’s not going to be any clean water two years from now’.
Here, there, everywhere I turn- it’s always with me. Following me around, telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t fit the right mold. My mind can’t understand this televised world and this televised world controls my mind.
The event was televised. The murder of young adults over the age of twenty. They had done nothing wrong. Nothing worthy of murder. And yet no one tried to stop it. And now it was over. Done. They were gone simply because they were different. Mutated. Wonderfully supernatural. Gone. Senseless and rash at it was, it seemed to quiet the raging crowds or angry parents and ethnocentric religious.
The zigzag of static temporarily decapitated the mayor. Sonia and I leaned forward on the couch, as if being closer would make the fuzzy, growling audio come in clearer. I still remember her hand wrapped around mine so hard that I started to lose feeling, the sweat of her palms.
The marketplace was televised. Every day at noon, cameramen would show up and televise Mrs. Dowell shouting “Cookies are up!” The amount of people that rushed to the humble cookie stand was ghastly.
The hot dog eating contest was being televised. I was going to die. I mean, I loved the steaming puppies, but did I want my algebra teacher and grandmother to watch me scarf down ten in one sitting? That’s a definite negative.,
“This is outrageous!” Lexie exclaimed, bounding off the couch. She moved to turn the TV off, physically unable to stomach another of the senator’s absurd remarks. “We have to do something about this. It’s fascism!”
“Yeah, sure. And the revolution will be televised,” Paul snarked, knowing full well there was nothing they could do.
I have to remember this is televised, nationwide. I have an image that I have to keep up. If I do or say something wrong…who knows what could happen.
I saw recent fragments of my life televised – I had no idea I’d become so pathetic – I remember myself misguided, yes, but interesting at least, because I lived like a wild novel, each chapter full with conflict, redneck vs. southern belle, dumbass vs. logical thinker, reasoned vs. intuitive… How’d I get stripped back to zero? Bygod, I’ll have the producer’s head on a platter, served with every finger of the script writer, and for desert I’ll have the cameraman’s balls drizzled with white chocolate!
Our old, rickety television switched on, making a loud crackling sound. My heart beat wildly. I flipped through the channels, desperate to find the right one. Suddenly, I found it. It was there on TV; televised and clear as day. That was the last thing I remember before a sea of blackness swept over me…
He saw her on the television. He didn’t know her name. She was that girl, the one from primary school that was always wearing the yellow sneakers and the Red glasses.
I walked into the room where the murder was being televised. The woman had tears running down her face as the masked man held a gun to her head. She pleaded with the man to let her go but he refused.
It was televised the next night. Everything that I had done, said, and what was done to me. All on the damn TV. I just want to run to a place where no one knows me. Where there are no televisions anywhere!