We sat staring at the bubble on the wall….hoping that we’d not have to redo our shelf. The bubble teetered left, then teetered to the right until finally it stopped in the middle indicating the shelf was indeed finally level! We threw our hands up in excitement…or exasperation?
every layer,
every facet,
it’s one step higher
one section
deliberate in its higher ability.
It’s the next stage
and when you get there,
you will be considered great.
you will be on
the next
level.
The playing field for women isn’t level. Will it ever be? Will women rise to the occasion and make a change that will last the next seven generations. Level doesn’t mean balanced it means weighted equally. We are worth our weight in gold let’s show it.
tell me the truth. do not sugar coat it. i can handle it. i’ve seen things. i know how this all works. i can tell by your expression you are holding back. do you want me to guess? because i can imagine many worse things than you could ever tell me…
The world keeps us all on levels. From one’s level one may look up to others or down on them. One may ascend or descend. One may be perfectly content with their level and never leave. These levels provide us with structure. I plan to transcend them all.
I think this applies to the unilineal progression people often view themselves within. The assumption that life is something that can be constantly improved. However what lies at the top level? Is there one?
There were three levels in the castle. The first was below ground, the second looked out onto the courtyard, and the third looked to the sea. That is where she spent her time, looking past the tracery and leaden panes, out at the wild grey sea beyond. The outlines of ships bobbed on white waves, waving to her with cream-colored sails.
We never were on the same level. Whereas you care about finding out as much as you can on every level, I keep on running through each one, not looking back. I’m not trying to find a way out, but I feel like I’m trying to escape when I compare myself with you.
level playing field a level is a tool used to check if things are level the top of my head is not level pool tables need to be level what is your reading level my buddy’s daughter is in level three in swimming lessons
The level of difficulty that the kind of masturbation Joan had wanted needed a special kind of hand. A hand with six fingers. That’s why she’d been searching for those who were born with six fingers; to convince them to give her one.
The level on the shelf, to get things straight. I never could get it straight, it seemed my body was off balance and I stepped back to see if things were even. I could drill holes for days, but they’ll never be straight. I’ll never be straight. I’ll simply have to learn to balance the books, the ceramic elephant, myself.
I wasn’t sure – couldn’t be sure – if this guy was on the level or not. I just had to trust that, when Jess said he was reliable, she meant it and hope he would be able, not to mention willing, to help me.
The level of silence was deafening as the two teenaged boys faced off. Their classmates didn’t dare make a sound. Yugi rolled his eyes and loudly clapped his hands, breaking the spell.
There were a few startled screams and one boy fell out of the seat he had been on the edge off. Ryuji and Seto both looked away from each other to gaze at their small companion, Ryuji looking sheepish and Seto scowling.
“Stop being so immature. Anzu-chan’s going to be my project partner.”
It happened. She had reached a new level. Her strength and training finally paid off. She was finally going to achieve what all others had done, those who had told her it was impossible for her to do, for any woman to do.
“Get on my level,” my little brother said to me. “No one else is.” I looked at his eyes, glazed over. The muscles had relaxed and he was slightly wall-eyed.
“You need to slow down,” I said to him. He shook his head.
The bandanna Wolf leveled his gaze with Yusei’s, then his eyes widened. He saw no glimmer of recognition there. “You really lost your memory, haven’t you?”
“I don’t remember much before waking up in that alley.”
Jack stiffened when he heard that. This was becoming even stranger than it already was. What was up with these unusual Werewolves? What had happened to the one he had so recently fought and coupled with?
The shadows pull back but their level of aggression stays high. They wave back and forth restlessly as Jack runs over to me.
“Yusei! Shit!” He stares with wide eyes at the pole protruding from my side. I can see the cogs in his head turning as he tries to figure out how to get me off of it. “No matter how we do this, it’s going to hurt.”
“Heh.” My voice is pained even to my ears. “I should have… enough power… just step back.”
the level that I’m writing about consists of four letters, sorry seven. Although I am not sure sabot the number, one thing I do know is that children aren’t worried about whether they meet the level set by n
“That’s where my elementary school was,” she said softly.
He turned to look, impatient. “So now you’re going to give me some sob story about how they’re paving over all the tender moments from your childhood?” He glanced back at her.
She rolled her eyes. “No. I hated that place and all the kids in it. They hated me, too.”
The boy’s stress levels have been through the roof for days. The reason was sad but understandable.
Some kind of gang, or rather an underworld organization since these people were beyond the mere status of gang, had kidnapped him and his mother.
The reason for that was also simple.
It wasn’t because they were rich or anything like that. It was his fault.
He was a genius, and they wanted his genius under their thumb.
The danger level wasn’t too high, so to speak, but Satoshi knew he was going to have to be careful all the same. These were wild Bulbasaur and they may think a Solar Beam was the right way to deal with a strange human in their territory.
He made his way through the brush, staying as silent as possible, but then he heard the snap of a vine.
So much for his efforts to get through undetected.
The 1st year counselor chimed in at that moment. “Jaganshi-kun this level of disobedience is concerning. Has something happened recently, perhaps at home?”
Hiei’s dual-colored eyes narrowed. “No,” he said in a tone that made it clear that he thought the counselors were all morons. “Home is fine.”
Kurama wanted to put a hand over his lover’s mouth.
Level ground is hard to come by naturally. The only way to fond it is to create it. But by creating something level, we are going against the natural pattern of things. We are defying the laws of physics that lead all things to a state of disarray. And I think I would much rather live in a state of chaos than an unnatural state of level falseness.
Akari raised her level of volume each time she said Hikaru’s name until she finally got his attention. Her friend blinked and shook his head as if he had been in a daze. His mint green eyes that had been empty and faraway regained their life. He glanced up at her.
“Oh, sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I think I was day dreaming.”
“I noticed.” Her expression showed her concern.
“Uh, look,” Hikaru said after a moment. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Suddenly, Thunder Shield leveled a wing in front of the girls. “Step back. When I give the signal, run.”
Peach Paradise whimpered but nodded. Docket dug in her hooves, ready to run, and nodded as well. “I’ll look after Peachy, Uncle Thunder, don’t worry.”
“I’m depending on you,” he responded with a twinkle in green eyes.
There was a thump from the alley and the flash of yellowed teeth.
level. its hard to keep your head level theses days. i feel like level is something that we were told existed as kids, and we believed that our parents know it and all adults and grown ups were totally level headed, but the truth is that we are the most off balance creatures in the universe.
He tries to level his breathing. He wants this, he wants it to continue beyond this point. Seto swallows and mentally steels himself once more. He can do this.
Jounouchi’s fingers slide down to his hips and begin to massage in gentle circles. “You okay there?”
“Shut up and keep going.”
keep going!
one more level up.
then we’re there. and no longer here.
we’ll be free.
keep going!
i stop feeling your hand in mine,
it’s more like we’re floating through the ceiling.
one more level up.
“Breathe” he told himself. “I must keep a level head, or I’ll never get out of here alive.” Wincing, David brought himself up as much as he could without scraping his head on the inside of the car’s trunk. He had heard somewhere that if he applied enough force on the brake light of a car, it would pop out and he could wave for help. Hoping against hope, he managed to locate the panel that hid the lights, pulled it off and ripped out the wires. David inhaled sharply and, with all his might, pushed.
the level of english required to do this is beyond me. I mean, what kind of skill is this actually building? I don’t think I will improve very much, do you? Seriously!
He didn’t squint, wink,or flinch this time. No tricks. For once, this was not a stare that sought to extract somethign from its anchoring point. He was just…looking. So there she was. She was herself and he was himself–weren’t they? Did those terms even apply after all these years?
Life, I knew, was always going to throw me different trials and different kinds of heartache. Cancer, divorce, infidelity, fights, resentment; those were all what I could deal with. But not this. Never this. This was a completely different level of hurt that I didn’t want to face. Watching my dad die was something I never thought I would have to do.
sometimes i wish the journey you mapped out for me was on level ground. especially when my calves ache from incline, and the oxygen starts to thin. or when jagged tree branches send me careening to the rugged earth.
could you not have stuck to rolling drumlins? it would have been easier to see the path, to see you.
yet i continue to walk, sometimes trudging, sometimes dancing, sometimes almost crawling.
and though i often forget,
its through the rolling drumlins that you gently lull me to sleep in your arms.
and its when i’m on ground that you gently pick me up, dust me off, and sing me forward.
and its in the moments when i lose my breath that you breathe your life into me.
She slapped him across the face, then stepped back in horror when his eyes jumped open in surprise. He had managed to pull her down to his level. He watched her hand in shock. She had never hit him before. She didn’t know why he was so surprised. He hit her enough that this should have happened long ago. She turned around and walked away.
Totally above my level. I can’t even think of doing this. Seriously. I mean, a simple writing assignment is okay, but a full fledged narrative? Not gonna happen.
My friend, have I missed you.
You give me more strength than I can imagine, than I can handle
You taught me timing.
You became my release when I needed self-control. You didn’t hold that against me.
I love you, I fell in love with your touch. Writing.
Writing for a girl, to a girl, about a girl. She’s come and gone.
But love and writing are eternal lovers,
like a French rose sunset that succumbs you to a breather deeper than the ocean below it.
And when you finally breathe out,
it’s knowing someone is inhaling the sun’s rise, opposite
the horizon. You realize then life is more than coincidence.
You feel good. A penstroke of the heart. A painstroke.
A girl once told me she wasn’t good at anything. I told her lying is part of telling the truth.
She told me I knew nothing.
A penstroke.
We sat staring at the bubble on the wall….hoping that we’d not have to redo our shelf. The bubble teetered left, then teetered to the right until finally it stopped in the middle indicating the shelf was indeed finally level! We threw our hands up in excitement…or exasperation?
To be balanced. Palindrome. Swimming at sea. The wings level out. At the end of the day, to be level is to be balanced.
every layer,
every facet,
it’s one step higher
one section
deliberate in its higher ability.
It’s the next stage
and when you get there,
you will be considered great.
you will be on
the next
level.
The playing field for women isn’t level. Will it ever be? Will women rise to the occasion and make a change that will last the next seven generations. Level doesn’t mean balanced it means weighted equally. We are worth our weight in gold let’s show it.
Level thirty one was one of those places you never wanted to go. It was haunted by the ghosts of the people who had lived there
tell me the truth. do not sugar coat it. i can handle it. i’ve seen things. i know how this all works. i can tell by your expression you are holding back. do you want me to guess? because i can imagine many worse things than you could ever tell me…
The world keeps us all on levels. From one’s level one may look up to others or down on them. One may ascend or descend. One may be perfectly content with their level and never leave. These levels provide us with structure. I plan to transcend them all.
I think this applies to the unilineal progression people often view themselves within. The assumption that life is something that can be constantly improved. However what lies at the top level? Is there one?
There were three levels in the castle. The first was below ground, the second looked out onto the courtyard, and the third looked to the sea. That is where she spent her time, looking past the tracery and leaden panes, out at the wild grey sea beyond. The outlines of ships bobbed on white waves, waving to her with cream-colored sails.
We never were on the same level. Whereas you care about finding out as much as you can on every level, I keep on running through each one, not looking back. I’m not trying to find a way out, but I feel like I’m trying to escape when I compare myself with you.
it is a position or situation of an event. Using this we can write as example. every level there is hope.
level playing field a level is a tool used to check if things are level the top of my head is not level pool tables need to be level what is your reading level my buddy’s daughter is in level three in swimming lessons
The level of difficulty that the kind of masturbation Joan had wanted needed a special kind of hand. A hand with six fingers. That’s why she’d been searching for those who were born with six fingers; to convince them to give her one.
I don’t date people who aren’t at my level, she said snidely.
And what level is that? His voice was carefully blank.
A certain amount of intelligence isn’t too much to ask for, is it?
He eyed her and smirked slightly. No, that is all I ask, as well. And I’m not seeing it.
The level on the shelf, to get things straight. I never could get it straight, it seemed my body was off balance and I stepped back to see if things were even. I could drill holes for days, but they’ll never be straight. I’ll never be straight. I’ll simply have to learn to balance the books, the ceramic elephant, myself.
I wasn’t sure – couldn’t be sure – if this guy was on the level or not. I just had to trust that, when Jess said he was reliable, she meant it and hope he would be able, not to mention willing, to help me.
The level of silence was deafening as the two teenaged boys faced off. Their classmates didn’t dare make a sound. Yugi rolled his eyes and loudly clapped his hands, breaking the spell.
There were a few startled screams and one boy fell out of the seat he had been on the edge off. Ryuji and Seto both looked away from each other to gaze at their small companion, Ryuji looking sheepish and Seto scowling.
“Stop being so immature. Anzu-chan’s going to be my project partner.”
It happened. She had reached a new level. Her strength and training finally paid off. She was finally going to achieve what all others had done, those who had told her it was impossible for her to do, for any woman to do.
“Get on my level,” my little brother said to me. “No one else is.” I looked at his eyes, glazed over. The muscles had relaxed and he was slightly wall-eyed.
“You need to slow down,” I said to him. He shook his head.
“Fuck you.”
The bandanna Wolf leveled his gaze with Yusei’s, then his eyes widened. He saw no glimmer of recognition there. “You really lost your memory, haven’t you?”
“I don’t remember much before waking up in that alley.”
Jack stiffened when he heard that. This was becoming even stranger than it already was. What was up with these unusual Werewolves? What had happened to the one he had so recently fought and coupled with?
The shadows pull back but their level of aggression stays high. They wave back and forth restlessly as Jack runs over to me.
“Yusei! Shit!” He stares with wide eyes at the pole protruding from my side. I can see the cogs in his head turning as he tries to figure out how to get me off of it. “No matter how we do this, it’s going to hurt.”
“Heh.” My voice is pained even to my ears. “I should have… enough power… just step back.”
the level that I’m writing about consists of four letters, sorry seven. Although I am not sure sabot the number, one thing I do know is that children aren’t worried about whether they meet the level set by n
“That’s where my elementary school was,” she said softly.
He turned to look, impatient. “So now you’re going to give me some sob story about how they’re paving over all the tender moments from your childhood?” He glanced back at her.
She rolled her eyes. “No. I hated that place and all the kids in it. They hated me, too.”
The boy’s stress levels have been through the roof for days. The reason was sad but understandable.
Some kind of gang, or rather an underworld organization since these people were beyond the mere status of gang, had kidnapped him and his mother.
The reason for that was also simple.
It wasn’t because they were rich or anything like that. It was his fault.
He was a genius, and they wanted his genius under their thumb.
The danger level wasn’t too high, so to speak, but Satoshi knew he was going to have to be careful all the same. These were wild Bulbasaur and they may think a Solar Beam was the right way to deal with a strange human in their territory.
He made his way through the brush, staying as silent as possible, but then he heard the snap of a vine.
So much for his efforts to get through undetected.
The 1st year counselor chimed in at that moment. “Jaganshi-kun this level of disobedience is concerning. Has something happened recently, perhaps at home?”
Hiei’s dual-colored eyes narrowed. “No,” he said in a tone that made it clear that he thought the counselors were all morons. “Home is fine.”
Kurama wanted to put a hand over his lover’s mouth.
Level ground is hard to come by naturally. The only way to fond it is to create it. But by creating something level, we are going against the natural pattern of things. We are defying the laws of physics that lead all things to a state of disarray. And I think I would much rather live in a state of chaos than an unnatural state of level falseness.
Akari raised her level of volume each time she said Hikaru’s name until she finally got his attention. Her friend blinked and shook his head as if he had been in a daze. His mint green eyes that had been empty and faraway regained their life. He glanced up at her.
“Oh, sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I think I was day dreaming.”
“I noticed.” Her expression showed her concern.
“Uh, look,” Hikaru said after a moment. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Suddenly, Thunder Shield leveled a wing in front of the girls. “Step back. When I give the signal, run.”
Peach Paradise whimpered but nodded. Docket dug in her hooves, ready to run, and nodded as well. “I’ll look after Peachy, Uncle Thunder, don’t worry.”
“I’m depending on you,” he responded with a twinkle in green eyes.
There was a thump from the alley and the flash of yellowed teeth.
level. its hard to keep your head level theses days. i feel like level is something that we were told existed as kids, and we believed that our parents know it and all adults and grown ups were totally level headed, but the truth is that we are the most off balance creatures in the universe.
He tries to level his breathing. He wants this, he wants it to continue beyond this point. Seto swallows and mentally steels himself once more. He can do this.
Jounouchi’s fingers slide down to his hips and begin to massage in gentle circles. “You okay there?”
“Shut up and keep going.”
The blond chuckles. “Yes, sir.”
keep going!
one more level up.
then we’re there. and no longer here.
we’ll be free.
keep going!
i stop feeling your hand in mine,
it’s more like we’re floating through the ceiling.
one more level up.
“Breathe” he told himself. “I must keep a level head, or I’ll never get out of here alive.” Wincing, David brought himself up as much as he could without scraping his head on the inside of the car’s trunk. He had heard somewhere that if he applied enough force on the brake light of a car, it would pop out and he could wave for help. Hoping against hope, he managed to locate the panel that hid the lights, pulled it off and ripped out the wires. David inhaled sharply and, with all his might, pushed.
the level of english required to do this is beyond me. I mean, what kind of skill is this actually building? I don’t think I will improve very much, do you? Seriously!
He didn’t squint, wink,or flinch this time. No tricks. For once, this was not a stare that sought to extract somethign from its anchoring point. He was just…looking. So there she was. She was herself and he was himself–weren’t they? Did those terms even apply after all these years?
Life, I knew, was always going to throw me different trials and different kinds of heartache. Cancer, divorce, infidelity, fights, resentment; those were all what I could deal with. But not this. Never this. This was a completely different level of hurt that I didn’t want to face. Watching my dad die was something I never thought I would have to do.
sometimes i wish the journey you mapped out for me was on level ground. especially when my calves ache from incline, and the oxygen starts to thin. or when jagged tree branches send me careening to the rugged earth.
could you not have stuck to rolling drumlins? it would have been easier to see the path, to see you.
yet i continue to walk, sometimes trudging, sometimes dancing, sometimes almost crawling.
and though i often forget,
its through the rolling drumlins that you gently lull me to sleep in your arms.
and its when i’m on ground that you gently pick me up, dust me off, and sing me forward.
and its in the moments when i lose my breath that you breathe your life into me.
so i walk on.
and you do too.
She slapped him across the face, then stepped back in horror when his eyes jumped open in surprise. He had managed to pull her down to his level. He watched her hand in shock. She had never hit him before. She didn’t know why he was so surprised. He hit her enough that this should have happened long ago. She turned around and walked away.
Totally above my level. I can’t even think of doing this. Seriously. I mean, a simple writing assignment is okay, but a full fledged narrative? Not gonna happen.
Opposite the Horizon
My friend, have I missed you.
You give me more strength than I can imagine, than I can handle
You taught me timing.
You became my release when I needed self-control. You didn’t hold that against me.
I love you, I fell in love with your touch. Writing.
Writing for a girl, to a girl, about a girl. She’s come and gone.
But love and writing are eternal lovers,
like a French rose sunset that succumbs you to a breather deeper than the ocean below it.
And when you finally breathe out,
it’s knowing someone is inhaling the sun’s rise, opposite
the horizon. You realize then life is more than coincidence.
You feel good. A penstroke of the heart. A painstroke.
A girl once told me she wasn’t good at anything. I told her lying is part of telling the truth.
She told me I knew nothing.
A penstroke.