his new album is ok, he’s got a funny voice. It’s like I can hear the gap in his teeth. Other than that currency is something I cherish while setting it on fire simultaneously….. pay day is friday and i need that !!!!!
I wish I had a lot more currency than I have. Actually, any currency would be good, but U. S. currency would be easier. Then I would not have to trade it in for U.S dollars. I could do a lot of things with more currency.
Currency makes the world go round, that currency is love. Love is really removed from American life. Even the products we buy are disconnected from the earth our communities and our selves. Products are just junk that no one took pride in and they are just assembled to fall apart and be replaced to make money for the bullshit corporate machine. No love there. Without th currency of love our lives are disconnected and I satisfying. I wish I was brave and free enough to opt out of buying in.
The currency of the United States should be based on gold and not paper. The government should not be allowed to print paper without a gold standard to support it. If
as immiscible as money seems with happiness;
they actually, work, together, to fuel the very existence of happiness.
a marron is delicious to beholders whom preserve it for syrup;
a chestnut slobbers saliva within the tongue’s punctures for thee, or he.
every one person has their own currency on what they can sell their reflective-bough for;
some boughs, may cost a shilling,
others two,
but what we know
is that If you except to lodge a heavy monkey on a bough, it may snap
and trickle into your face,
the leaves will be an orchard of happiness;
the hard-nosed, sturdy wood branches would bash your esteems in;
as we dodge currency’s branch
and frolic to collect currency’s leaves like money flickering freely down from a skyscraper;
currency limits us never.
the money that the man had saved up was an enormous amount thats why the girls all liked him but their was one girl that he liked but she did’nt really like him but that was before she found out he liked and asked her to the dance she went and kept on asking her out finally the courage came and he asked her to marrry him she said yes and a year later she was walking down the path to his hands the next thing she knew she was gathered up in a kiss
I sure wish I had a lot of this. I am so broke that I don’t know where my next meal is coming from. Perhaps I could get a job. Nope, that’s not a good solution.
He wondered what’s taking the line so long to move, so he glanced up front the counter and saw a rugged looking man counting all the change he’s got and checking what meal can he afford off it. He was about to treat the man for a meal when he saw him turn around empty-handed, but the boy manning the cashier called the rugged man and offered him the meal instead.
Currency is a scary concept. How can a dollar in one country be a thousand in another? To think about how foreign construction workers here in my country are earning more than they do in their countries as professionals is a scary thought. Currency, it is unfair.
Her hoped started depreciating at a rate faster than her national currency. How could he have rejected her application, her brilliant credentials, only on the basis of her appearance? Is talent less important than looks in this industry?
Kevin squeezed the crumbled dollar bills as if they could bleed more. The lanky acne covered boy at the cashier was frowning as he assessed Kevin’s dirty beard and thread bare jeans. He may as well been a bug. It didn’t matter, he didn’t have enough for a meal. He began to turn, and the boy cleared his throat loudly. “Hey Mister, come back. I’ve got you…what do you want?”
bruises are my currency,
split lips my time.
you pray to me with ripped clothes
and black eyes.
missing teeth are our love story
as they litter the floor.
i used to think that money
was the root of all evil,
but now i beg for more.
The economy of his touch never seemed to balance out. She seemed to constantly be in debt, aching for his hands, his lips, his breath. His caress was the currency she wanted to hoard. She wanted to be miserly with him, to store up moments of him for a rainy day that would hopefully never come. Hopefully. If he was her’s forever, then she would never need to dip into the emergency fund.
She treated the people around her like currency. Like her mother was a quarter and her father was a dime, her husband was a wad of dollars and her friends were a selection of international coins at the bottom of her suitcase.
Zinc was the currency now. Zinc coins printed from the Narali traders from their base in Cheebeyde. None really remembered how the Narali traders came to be, but they were the most powerful organisation throughout the land. Everyone could rely on their coins to be accepted because the promise of their stability was what made the coins so valuable.
do we choose to forget that we live lives that are not infinite? why do we choose to live for the future; can’t wait until friday, can’t wait until summer, can’t wait until this, this, and this. live for now. time is temporary and so are we. we are not immortal.
Everyone is born with a currency in unequal amounts. One cannot expand the amount of his currency, but one can reduce it. One can spend it however they may choose. But once the currency runs out, your life is over. The currency is time.
love is currency passed through fingers and whispers; gold teeth gold wrists gold allegiances; do you love me or just what i produce; like the honeybee like trying to make sense; if you saw me on the street would you make estimations; she is in a
Different ways for humans to measure the value of things that they define as property. Reminds me of the word current… which could probably be used as a metaphor if I felt like doing that. It changes sometimes which I don’t really understand. Does anyone ever fill this bubble?
Money
Money
Money
All he cares about is money. I hear it every time it takes a bit too long to close a sale. I hear every time I can’t get the customer to order enough pictures.
All he cares about is money.
Stupid money. I hate it.
The crrency is a current of money as you know but is also is moving all the time!!!!!!! So you need to be pro active to get on top of your money and win.
holding the cash. i stole my mom’s barrettes. am i a bad person? We wait for the cars to drive by and count to 30. I am safe now. what does it mean to be safe?
The currency was strange in this village, the collared, man with the thick black sweater knew that much, but nothing more. As he signaled the shaded and attempted to wrap his tongue around the native language and speak it, he felt slightly embarrassed. He knew nothing of this culture. The sun burned down in glaring, oppressive waves and the sharp, rough, tawny scent of cattle pierced his nose. The chatter from the people and the braying of animals, seemed to be the soundtrack to the unusual, movie-esque scene that unfolded in front of him. Red dust blew up in clouds whenever someone walked, and collapsing, brightly colored market stalls lined the dusty paths. People rushed past him, pressing closer to him than sardines in a can, adorned in clinking golden and bronze jewelry, and bold colors of fabric. He stood out in the native hustle and bustle. The grunt of the round, dark-skinned, sweating merchant caused him to glance back. The merchant held out his hand, and the man with the black sweater dropped seventeen sharp, triangle-shaped blades into the merchant’s palm. Once he had grasped the object the merchant offered him, he thought no more of the odd currency.The merchant waved him close and whispered quickly, lowering his voice. “Tell no one I aided you, sir.” The man with the black sweater looked into the merchant’s piercing gray eyes and saw that he was actually talking to a young boy. The black sweater-ed man looked at the merchant in pity and they both knew the horrendous crime that was to take place because of them.
“So what’s the currency of your imaginary country?” Arlo asked Rachel, as the two sat down to map out their roleplaying game.
“Not sure yet,” replied Rachel. “What do you think is a better fitting name: A denka for a dollar or a grappi for a dollar?”
“Depends on the town itself. Denka sounds more desert-like. Grappi’s like…I dunno, kind of Italian-ish?”
The brother and sister enjoyed creating these worlds together, and today was no exception. Their fictional characters were off on an adventure, and they had to plot out the map and continents for them to explore.
The world currency is different every century. Not in zoos. Gerard Departoi knew that because his mother had told him so, and she had it from the zebras, who seemed to be very interested in zoo-times history. But Gerard thought it was rather unfortunate.
WE FLOAT AND DEPART WAYS, AS LIFE, IS SPLIT AND MOMENTS ARE MADE.. aS WE TAKE LIFE FURTHER THAN EXPECTED, NOW LIFE EXPECTS YOU TO BE CURRENT, AND NOT CURRENTLY CONTROLED BY THE MONEY, AND HOW ITS RATES AND CURRENCY DEPICT A MAN AND HIS WORTH.. iT IS A SYSTEM THAT TAKES, INFLATION AND MULTIPIES IT BY, RATES, THAT PUTS THE MIDDLE MEN IN DEBT AND CONSUMED AND WORKING HARDER, FOR THE BUCK, AND THIS IS WHERE BUCK STOPS HERE, NO MORE DOLLERLY DREAMS, OF DEBT AND REGRET AND HOW LIFE IS MADE FOR YOU TO SPILL GUTS, AND SWEAT IT OUT
currency is money. it is different types of money. for America it is called dollars. for france and other places it is called euro.
his new album is ok, he’s got a funny voice. It’s like I can hear the gap in his teeth. Other than that currency is something I cherish while setting it on fire simultaneously….. pay day is friday and i need that !!!!!
I wish I had a lot more currency than I have. Actually, any currency would be good, but U. S. currency would be easier. Then I would not have to trade it in for U.S dollars. I could do a lot of things with more currency.
The currency of downtime, what does it even mean? What happens in this time that is essentially considered both worthless but priceless?
Currency makes the world go round, that currency is love. Love is really removed from American life. Even the products we buy are disconnected from the earth our communities and our selves. Products are just junk that no one took pride in and they are just assembled to fall apart and be replaced to make money for the bullshit corporate machine. No love there. Without th currency of love our lives are disconnected and I satisfying. I wish I was brave and free enough to opt out of buying in.
Currency is money. It is the different types of money. Like dollars are America and euro is French.
The currency of the United States should be based on gold and not paper. The government should not be allowed to print paper without a gold standard to support it. If
as immiscible as money seems with happiness;
they actually, work, together, to fuel the very existence of happiness.
a marron is delicious to beholders whom preserve it for syrup;
a chestnut slobbers saliva within the tongue’s punctures for thee, or he.
every one person has their own currency on what they can sell their reflective-bough for;
some boughs, may cost a shilling,
others two,
but what we know
is that If you except to lodge a heavy monkey on a bough, it may snap
and trickle into your face,
the leaves will be an orchard of happiness;
the hard-nosed, sturdy wood branches would bash your esteems in;
as we dodge currency’s branch
and frolic to collect currency’s leaves like money flickering freely down from a skyscraper;
currency limits us never.
the money that the man had saved up was an enormous amount thats why the girls all liked him but their was one girl that he liked but she did’nt really like him but that was before she found out he liked and asked her to the dance she went and kept on asking her out finally the courage came and he asked her to marrry him she said yes and a year later she was walking down the path to his hands the next thing she knew she was gathered up in a kiss
I sure wish I had a lot of this. I am so broke that I don’t know where my next meal is coming from. Perhaps I could get a job. Nope, that’s not a good solution.
He wondered what’s taking the line so long to move, so he glanced up front the counter and saw a rugged looking man counting all the change he’s got and checking what meal can he afford off it. He was about to treat the man for a meal when he saw him turn around empty-handed, but the boy manning the cashier called the rugged man and offered him the meal instead.
Money is the root of all evil? Pfft, ACTIVITY is the root of all evil. But its a double-edged sword,
Currency: the analysis of whether an item or thought is relevant in the current setting. Does it matter now, or only before?
Currency is a scary concept. How can a dollar in one country be a thousand in another? To think about how foreign construction workers here in my country are earning more than they do in their countries as professionals is a scary thought. Currency, it is unfair.
Her hoped started depreciating at a rate faster than her national currency. How could he have rejected her application, her brilliant credentials, only on the basis of her appearance? Is talent less important than looks in this industry?
Kevin squeezed the crumbled dollar bills as if they could bleed more. The lanky acne covered boy at the cashier was frowning as he assessed Kevin’s dirty beard and thread bare jeans. He may as well been a bug. It didn’t matter, he didn’t have enough for a meal. He began to turn, and the boy cleared his throat loudly. “Hey Mister, come back. I’ve got you…what do you want?”
bruises are my currency,
split lips my time.
you pray to me with ripped clothes
and black eyes.
missing teeth are our love story
as they litter the floor.
i used to think that money
was the root of all evil,
but now i beg for more.
The economy of his touch never seemed to balance out. She seemed to constantly be in debt, aching for his hands, his lips, his breath. His caress was the currency she wanted to hoard. She wanted to be miserly with him, to store up moments of him for a rainy day that would hopefully never come. Hopefully. If he was her’s forever, then she would never need to dip into the emergency fund.
power in the hands of two people. winners and losers. opportunity and deception. a tool!
She treated the people around her like currency. Like her mother was a quarter and her father was a dime, her husband was a wad of dollars and her friends were a selection of international coins at the bottom of her suitcase.
Zinc was the currency now. Zinc coins printed from the Narali traders from their base in Cheebeyde. None really remembered how the Narali traders came to be, but they were the most powerful organisation throughout the land. Everyone could rely on their coins to be accepted because the promise of their stability was what made the coins so valuable.
I look at the zeros and chuckled.
aren’t they just like us.
fluctuate, inflate, gone.
aren’t they just like us.
unstable, influenced,
unbalanced to keep the balance.
aren’t they just like us.
the zeros stare back at me.
I blink.
fully knowing they will change again.
do we choose to forget that we live lives that are not infinite? why do we choose to live for the future; can’t wait until friday, can’t wait until summer, can’t wait until this, this, and this. live for now. time is temporary and so are we. we are not immortal.
Everyone is born with a currency in unequal amounts. One cannot expand the amount of his currency, but one can reduce it. One can spend it however they may choose. But once the currency runs out, your life is over. The currency is time.
love is currency passed through fingers and whispers; gold teeth gold wrists gold allegiances; do you love me or just what i produce; like the honeybee like trying to make sense; if you saw me on the street would you make estimations; she is in a
Different ways for humans to measure the value of things that they define as property. Reminds me of the word current… which could probably be used as a metaphor if I felt like doing that. It changes sometimes which I don’t really understand. Does anyone ever fill this bubble?
Money
Money
Money
All he cares about is money. I hear it every time it takes a bit too long to close a sale. I hear every time I can’t get the customer to order enough pictures.
All he cares about is money.
Stupid money. I hate it.
The crrency is a current of money as you know but is also is moving all the time!!!!!!! So you need to be pro active to get on top of your money and win.
holding the cash. i stole my mom’s barrettes. am i a bad person? We wait for the cars to drive by and count to 30. I am safe now. what does it mean to be safe?
The currency was strange in this village, the collared, man with the thick black sweater knew that much, but nothing more. As he signaled the shaded and attempted to wrap his tongue around the native language and speak it, he felt slightly embarrassed. He knew nothing of this culture. The sun burned down in glaring, oppressive waves and the sharp, rough, tawny scent of cattle pierced his nose. The chatter from the people and the braying of animals, seemed to be the soundtrack to the unusual, movie-esque scene that unfolded in front of him. Red dust blew up in clouds whenever someone walked, and collapsing, brightly colored market stalls lined the dusty paths. People rushed past him, pressing closer to him than sardines in a can, adorned in clinking golden and bronze jewelry, and bold colors of fabric. He stood out in the native hustle and bustle. The grunt of the round, dark-skinned, sweating merchant caused him to glance back. The merchant held out his hand, and the man with the black sweater dropped seventeen sharp, triangle-shaped blades into the merchant’s palm. Once he had grasped the object the merchant offered him, he thought no more of the odd currency.The merchant waved him close and whispered quickly, lowering his voice. “Tell no one I aided you, sir.” The man with the black sweater looked into the merchant’s piercing gray eyes and saw that he was actually talking to a young boy. The black sweater-ed man looked at the merchant in pity and they both knew the horrendous crime that was to take place because of them.
“So what’s the currency of your imaginary country?” Arlo asked Rachel, as the two sat down to map out their roleplaying game.
“Not sure yet,” replied Rachel. “What do you think is a better fitting name: A denka for a dollar or a grappi for a dollar?”
“Depends on the town itself. Denka sounds more desert-like. Grappi’s like…I dunno, kind of Italian-ish?”
The brother and sister enjoyed creating these worlds together, and today was no exception. Their fictional characters were off on an adventure, and they had to plot out the map and continents for them to explore.
The world currency is different every century. Not in zoos. Gerard Departoi knew that because his mother had told him so, and she had it from the zebras, who seemed to be very interested in zoo-times history. But Gerard thought it was rather unfortunate.
love it
WE FLOAT AND DEPART WAYS, AS LIFE, IS SPLIT AND MOMENTS ARE MADE.. aS WE TAKE LIFE FURTHER THAN EXPECTED, NOW LIFE EXPECTS YOU TO BE CURRENT, AND NOT CURRENTLY CONTROLED BY THE MONEY, AND HOW ITS RATES AND CURRENCY DEPICT A MAN AND HIS WORTH.. iT IS A SYSTEM THAT TAKES, INFLATION AND MULTIPIES IT BY, RATES, THAT PUTS THE MIDDLE MEN IN DEBT AND CONSUMED AND WORKING HARDER, FOR THE BUCK, AND THIS IS WHERE BUCK STOPS HERE, NO MORE DOLLERLY DREAMS, OF DEBT AND REGRET AND HOW LIFE IS MADE FOR YOU TO SPILL GUTS, AND SWEAT IT OUT