There’s always a reason to go to war. One of them insulted our pride or one of them threatened our neighbor or one of them is charging to much for exports or whatever. We’ll never run out of ways to justify conflict. So why don’t we start looking at reasons to justify peace instead? We certainly can’t do any worse.
I have conflict with many things, and people and many times I regret on the reason for conflict later since it is silly and every one have is correct in their perspective.
The conflict was outside, it was outside of my body, had been, but as I looked down my wayward brother I knew that, finally, the conflict had breached my defenses, had infected my flesh like the coughing fits of the refugees, like the poisonous doctrine of the enemy forces. I knew this because this was the first time I was unsure of my actions.
Forget the way your conflict works;
forget her face for her lovely words —
ignore the shouting, the yelling, the noise,
for seeing her eyes and her lovely poise
I never went on a holiday before. I never really knew what it was like to feel warm in the winter. It was so hot, in fact, it was hard to wear a full outfit. Just a dress and slip-on shoes. I couldn’t imagine living life as the people who lived here live life: getting up, going to work, shadeless streets by 8 in the morning. Another thing I experienced was a chronic headache, just in the crease of brow above my eyes. From squinting, even with sunglasses on. The glare was always there, as we were right in the middle of the rainy season. The grassfires as people burned off the bracken and weeds on their land made my throat tickle, and the alcohol was nothing cleansing to speak of. It was of a weak percentage, but tasted horrible besides, like gasoline with Splenda in it. I was in conflict as all my life I had dreamed of a tropical holiday, but it turned out to be days spent in a hot country where people laboured and lived under a sun so high it cast no shadows.
It was better to face it head on. I always knew that. The problem was that not everyone else did. They called me confrontational, like it was a bad thing for me to speak my mind. And that’s why I got kicked out, again and again, and that’s why I ended up here. In a tiny, posh, private school full of little girls who think the world revolves around them and big girls who drank champagne and snorted coke.
I hate conflict. I have never understood why people can’t forgive others, and for everyone to be nice to each other. Conflict tears relationships apart.
There is conflict in our lives. From the smallest of details, to the great wars
that are ongoing in our world today.
Conflict in both outside our world and inside ourselves, conflict is something
that is part of us.
Do we fight it? Do we accept the things it is? Or do we revel in it?
Those questions generate conflict in our mind.
Yesterday there was more conflict than I was comfortable with. I kept going from trying to be a turtle and disappear to acting way more confident and chill than I’ve ever been. Yes, I had my head up my ass last week and got nothing done, so I probably deserved it, but still, I can’t deal.
Yesterday there was more conflict than I was comfortable with. I kept going from trying to be a turtle and disappear to acting way more confident and chill than I’ve ever been.
My conflict is that you’re an alcoholic. My conflict is that you’re married. My conflict is that you’re handsome. My conflict is that you have night terrors. My conflict is that I have no evidence of what’s true.
She darted her eyes back and forth between them, gleeful at the ensuing drama. Mark stiffened his shoulders and calmly walked away, not engaging. Steph laughed derisively. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”
“Give me that,” she snapped, holding out her red-manicured hand with grasping fingers, her wrist bent wide and flat. “Give it to me, now. Please,” she added, faltering a bit on the word, her pink lips wobbling. “Give it to me, pl… please?”
In times of conflict, all loyalties are tested. Even within families, this is a time of testing and challenging, where true feelings and values are questioned old grudges resurface and past injuries redressed. Manners and social behaviours that overlay everyday interactions are ripped away, replaced by what is important, urgent and necessary for survival.
the battle wages feet step in time to the beat of a heart in love it’s misery, really to think about how the soldiers still die for a cause not worth dying for how they fire upon another father, brother, for a country not worth it.
The conflict between the wolf-people and the tree folk was coming to a head. The leader of the wolf-people had been called to the capitol, and she came. The crowds in the streets shrieked and cried as she made her way with purpose to the tallest building to meet the leader of the tree folk. The guards smelled like fear when they moved to let her pass, and she flashed them each a wolfish smile when they shivered despite the hot sun.
Conflict. Conflict. My mind conflicts itself and its thoughts on a daily basis. Right now, I have conflicting ideas about what I should write. Should I write about love, or hate and the conflict that resides when two people can’t agree with what the other is saying? Or should I write about joy and sadness and how often in the day my thoughts go from true happiness to sadness because I don’t understand people and why we can’t get along? Why is there conflict? Why?
It was hard and rough. It was the best and the worst the world was ever going to get, because there was no way it was ever going to end cleanly, if at all. The fight was purpose, the fight was life, the fight was believing that there was something to fight for and the first place, and the idea of stopping to see how little was left of the world was more terrifying that the conflict itself
Conflict to me can be something I do not like to deal with personally. It brings much confusions to any situation that I might be dealing with . Espically things like change.
What conflict means to me is when you have a conflict with some body say if you get into a conflict with someone in public it could mean that you could get in an argument with them a fight or even just misunderstanding someone.
conflict follows her wherever she leads.
she argues with her boss over tedious tasks.
she argues with her mother over past due bills.
she argues with the cashier over pennies and dimes.
but conflict creates opportunity.
her boss gave her a raise.
her mother agreed to let her help pay bills.
her cashier finally agreed to keep the change.
The conflict on the TV was just the beginning. Daily stress of seeing the world at war, combined with the internet battlefield of left versus right tearing each other apart was too much for me. I pulled away from everyone. Cut everyone and everything off. Unplugged. Now I’m lonely and unhappy still.
As the day progressed preparing for the event ahead the pair walked into the local forest seeking the problem that had caused so much strife for so many people.
Conflict is a phrase that encompasses arguably the most important aspect of any story; without conflict, no story would ever exist as there would be a lack of motivation and tension. Conflict in stories can be anything, from physical conflict, to psychological conflict, to many other types of conflict.
Conflict is all but necessary in todays world, it always comes up because people are so different. People have evolved in such a way that makes everyone a very unique individual with the ability to come with there own thoughts and ideas, so obviously they’re going to clash.
Everything in life is about conflict. For some people conflict happens just trying to get out of bed. My conflict usually happens as soon as i have to look in a mirror. if I look for too long, it can be hard just to leave the house.
“Conflict is the best way to build tension in your narrative,” he said. “So go on.”
She looked at the tiny figures on the planet. “But I don’t want to make them fight. People would get hurt.”
“Only very tiny people,” said her teacher. “Do you want to be a planet artist or just a worldbuilder?”
She began to cry. Her teacher smirked.
Conflict…it is the oldest and most basic human concept that there is. So old in fact that it even predates what we currently consider the human race. Conflict is neither bad nor good, it is simply our own interpretation of the disparity between two entities with opposing objectives or intentions. A conflict of interests? No, more like an interest in conflict.
Conflict inside of my own mind. Should I stay or should I go. I did not feel heard. He stopped looked me in the eyes as I said goodbye. The car was packed. My mind was made up. I drove away not a single tear in my eyes. I was determined to be heard, seen and known. Until he could make space for all of me I had to find a place where I could breath, think and sit still.
Fire-forged in the darkest of places, she fought tooth and nail until tooth and nail would no longer carry her. Fire-forged in darkness and she, it’s flame.
I thought I had been properly trained for this. I thought that all the years I spent as a conflict mediator would pay off. I thought I had the experience and mental capacity to handle this particular quarrel. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
I knew I was wrong as soon as I entered the room. The people facing off: Two older women, both with very gray hair. Both short, frumpy, wearing pinks and purples. And they were wielding switchblades.
it’s something that is not helping, making people mad about something.maybe a war.
There’s always a reason to go to war. One of them insulted our pride or one of them threatened our neighbor or one of them is charging to much for exports or whatever. We’ll never run out of ways to justify conflict. So why don’t we start looking at reasons to justify peace instead? We certainly can’t do any worse.
I have conflict with many things, and people and many times I regret on the reason for conflict later since it is silly and every one have is correct in their perspective.
I love Doug Bergeman, he doesn’t love me.
The conflict was outside, it was outside of my body, had been, but as I looked down my wayward brother I knew that, finally, the conflict had breached my defenses, had infected my flesh like the coughing fits of the refugees, like the poisonous doctrine of the enemy forces. I knew this because this was the first time I was unsure of my actions.
Forget the way your conflict works;
forget her face for her lovely words —
ignore the shouting, the yelling, the noise,
for seeing her eyes and her lovely poise
makes the whole world better.
I never went on a holiday before. I never really knew what it was like to feel warm in the winter. It was so hot, in fact, it was hard to wear a full outfit. Just a dress and slip-on shoes. I couldn’t imagine living life as the people who lived here live life: getting up, going to work, shadeless streets by 8 in the morning. Another thing I experienced was a chronic headache, just in the crease of brow above my eyes. From squinting, even with sunglasses on. The glare was always there, as we were right in the middle of the rainy season. The grassfires as people burned off the bracken and weeds on their land made my throat tickle, and the alcohol was nothing cleansing to speak of. It was of a weak percentage, but tasted horrible besides, like gasoline with Splenda in it. I was in conflict as all my life I had dreamed of a tropical holiday, but it turned out to be days spent in a hot country where people laboured and lived under a sun so high it cast no shadows.
It was better to face it head on. I always knew that. The problem was that not everyone else did. They called me confrontational, like it was a bad thing for me to speak my mind. And that’s why I got kicked out, again and again, and that’s why I ended up here. In a tiny, posh, private school full of little girls who think the world revolves around them and big girls who drank champagne and snorted coke.
I hate conflict. I have never understood why people can’t forgive others, and for everyone to be nice to each other. Conflict tears relationships apart.
There is conflict in our lives. From the smallest of details, to the great wars
that are ongoing in our world today.
Conflict in both outside our world and inside ourselves, conflict is something
that is part of us.
Do we fight it? Do we accept the things it is? Or do we revel in it?
Those questions generate conflict in our mind.
Yesterday there was more conflict than I was comfortable with. I kept going from trying to be a turtle and disappear to acting way more confident and chill than I’ve ever been. Yes, I had my head up my ass last week and got nothing done, so I probably deserved it, but still, I can’t deal.
Yesterday there was more conflict than I was comfortable with. I kept going from trying to be a turtle and disappear to acting way more confident and chill than I’ve ever been.
My conflict is that you’re an alcoholic. My conflict is that you’re married. My conflict is that you’re handsome. My conflict is that you have night terrors. My conflict is that I have no evidence of what’s true.
there was a crime scene and the conflict of the scene is the guy that got shot.
She darted her eyes back and forth between them, gleeful at the ensuing drama. Mark stiffened his shoulders and calmly walked away, not engaging. Steph laughed derisively. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”
!conflict=Contrived Ontology Negating Fortitudital Leveraging Incideous Capsized Travistee
A conflict with speed touch was an aspect of logging in, but that was what the computer man thought when he logged out. It is all sorted now.
hu
“Give me that,” she snapped, holding out her red-manicured hand with grasping fingers, her wrist bent wide and flat. “Give it to me, now. Please,” she added, faltering a bit on the word, her pink lips wobbling. “Give it to me, pl… please?”
In times of conflict, all loyalties are tested. Even within families, this is a time of testing and challenging, where true feelings and values are questioned old grudges resurface and past injuries redressed. Manners and social behaviours that overlay everyday interactions are ripped away, replaced by what is important, urgent and necessary for survival.
the battle wages feet step in time to the beat of a heart in love it’s misery, really to think about how the soldiers still die for a cause not worth dying for how they fire upon another father, brother, for a country not worth it.
The conflict between the wolf-people and the tree folk was coming to a head. The leader of the wolf-people had been called to the capitol, and she came. The crowds in the streets shrieked and cried as she made her way with purpose to the tallest building to meet the leader of the tree folk. The guards smelled like fear when they moved to let her pass, and she flashed them each a wolfish smile when they shivered despite the hot sun.
Conflict. Conflict. My mind conflicts itself and its thoughts on a daily basis. Right now, I have conflicting ideas about what I should write. Should I write about love, or hate and the conflict that resides when two people can’t agree with what the other is saying? Or should I write about joy and sadness and how often in the day my thoughts go from true happiness to sadness because I don’t understand people and why we can’t get along? Why is there conflict? Why?
We had a huge conflict. This conflict had gone through several days.
It was hard and rough. It was the best and the worst the world was ever going to get, because there was no way it was ever going to end cleanly, if at all. The fight was purpose, the fight was life, the fight was believing that there was something to fight for and the first place, and the idea of stopping to see how little was left of the world was more terrifying that the conflict itself
Conflict to me can be something I do not like to deal with personally. It brings much confusions to any situation that I might be dealing with . Espically things like change.
What conflict means to me is when you have a conflict with some body say if you get into a conflict with someone in public it could mean that you could get in an argument with them a fight or even just misunderstanding someone.
conflict follows her wherever she leads.
she argues with her boss over tedious tasks.
she argues with her mother over past due bills.
she argues with the cashier over pennies and dimes.
but conflict creates opportunity.
her boss gave her a raise.
her mother agreed to let her help pay bills.
her cashier finally agreed to keep the change.
The conflict on the TV was just the beginning. Daily stress of seeing the world at war, combined with the internet battlefield of left versus right tearing each other apart was too much for me. I pulled away from everyone. Cut everyone and everything off. Unplugged. Now I’m lonely and unhappy still.
As the day progressed preparing for the event ahead the pair walked into the local forest seeking the problem that had caused so much strife for so many people.
Conflict is a phrase that encompasses arguably the most important aspect of any story; without conflict, no story would ever exist as there would be a lack of motivation and tension. Conflict in stories can be anything, from physical conflict, to psychological conflict, to many other types of conflict.
Conflict is all but necessary in todays world, it always comes up because people are so different. People have evolved in such a way that makes everyone a very unique individual with the ability to come with there own thoughts and ideas, so obviously they’re going to clash.
Everything in life is about conflict. For some people conflict happens just trying to get out of bed. My conflict usually happens as soon as i have to look in a mirror. if I look for too long, it can be hard just to leave the house.
“Conflict is the best way to build tension in your narrative,” he said. “So go on.”
She looked at the tiny figures on the planet. “But I don’t want to make them fight. People would get hurt.”
“Only very tiny people,” said her teacher. “Do you want to be a planet artist or just a worldbuilder?”
She began to cry. Her teacher smirked.
Honestly, I avoid conflict as much as possible….. until I’m bored.
Conflict…it is the oldest and most basic human concept that there is. So old in fact that it even predates what we currently consider the human race. Conflict is neither bad nor good, it is simply our own interpretation of the disparity between two entities with opposing objectives or intentions. A conflict of interests? No, more like an interest in conflict.
We cannot change what we are.
Conflict inside of my own mind. Should I stay or should I go. I did not feel heard. He stopped looked me in the eyes as I said goodbye. The car was packed. My mind was made up. I drove away not a single tear in my eyes. I was determined to be heard, seen and known. Until he could make space for all of me I had to find a place where I could breath, think and sit still.
Fire-forged in the darkest of places, she fought tooth and nail until tooth and nail would no longer carry her. Fire-forged in darkness and she, it’s flame.
Oh man. I avoid this. Can’t even write about it. Nope. Uncomfortable. Need this time to run out. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid….. gah it’s awful.
I thought I had been properly trained for this. I thought that all the years I spent as a conflict mediator would pay off. I thought I had the experience and mental capacity to handle this particular quarrel. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
I knew I was wrong as soon as I entered the room. The people facing off: Two older women, both with very gray hair. Both short, frumpy, wearing pinks and purples. And they were wielding switchblades.