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The history of creation shows that creations starts with a dream before it is realised.
By Paul on 08.08.2010
Life, what they hell is that about, man it just happened, reminds me of a time i really can’t remember it was when i was born i think.. not sure. Id love to tell you about it though.
By Daniel on 08.08.2010
he screwed the paper and threw it at the bin. He watched as it rolled of the top of the pile that had been building steadily. After staring at the pile for a time he got up, picked up a pair of scissors and started to cut all the words from the papers, he knew that there was a monkey in there somewhere
By Flyderkov URL on 08.08.2010
I created an entire world for the close one to my heart. I left them stay in it, and they loved it. I pulled the plug.
By Antonio URL on 08.08.2010
Mary was a sculptor. Most of the time, she worked with clay, but this time she wanted to try something different. She wanted to make an ice sculpture. She could picture it now: cold, gleaming beneath the twinkling display lights, encased in a clear glass vault whose temperature was set just right so the sculpture retained its full and complete figure.
By Alice URL on 08.08.2010
She had created the best new invention. She had discovered the thing that would change the world forever. Jon stood beside her as they presented the award. He was smiling. When she leaped into his arms he had the strong urge to kiss her. But he didn’t want to ruin her day. He turned his head to the side to avoid temptation. As she ran forward to accept the prize, he cursed himself for not having kissed her. But she was too happy for that. Besides, he had done badly by even allowing himself to go this far, to get this close. Now, he could no sooner leave than pull her arm off. He wasn’t so sure of himself because he was cocky, rather, he knew exactly what she said at all times of the day. When she wasn’t with him, he was with her. It was the only way he could be sure he stayed alive.
By Lucy on 08.08.2010
today I created a thought
about what life would be like
if we all had no one to talk to
people would wake up too early
on the weekend
and like an army march march march
on to work during the week
we would all be very crazy then
By Kay URL on 08.08.2010
people who are easily swayed away
By madhu on 08.08.2010
I have created my own world, in which I can be trapped. I can stay there for a long,long time. I wouldn’t mind it. because here I have everything and everyone I can imagine.
By Lilith Zorya on 08.08.2010
we live to create.
to create is to produce magic, to bring a new dimension to our existence –
the joy of creation is embodied within ourselves:
for we are created by our very passions and feelings.
we were created by our creations.
By guoshe URL on 08.08.2010
done in all the time. expansion and freedom let me do more and make real where are all the choices? everything can be! its so wonderfull this is ultimate freedom, unlimited skies
By Joao on 08.08.2010
We are all born for something, we go through life pretending we know what that is, pretending that anyone knows. When we get to the end we realize this whole time we have been searching for the answer and it was just given to us.
By carter URL on 08.08.2010
In the beginning God created the world…. how? I don’t know. why? don’t know that either. I believe and that’s what is important. To me.
By liltig URL on 08.08.2010
der anspruch kreativ zu werden kreiert ein großes gedankenloch das sich umstülpt und mich mitsamt dem tisch, dem kugelschreiber und den angrenzenden gegenständen verschluckt, giftspeichelstarr starre ich auf das nichts
By c/o URL on 08.08.2010
I created a monster within myself
someone who will love unconditionally
no matter the cost
I created a monster within myself
so that you will no longer be lost
By dandelions! URL on 08.08.2010
I put my pen on paper, or my fingers to the keyboard and I can create beautiful art. Or my time can run out and I realize that I have found nothing. Sometimes things should stay dead.
By Siege URL on 08.08.2010
I had created something beautiful and now stared contemptuously, bloated with jealousy and bitterness. I wanted to be one with my creation, join it, live it, breathe it, consume it. My destruction of beautiful things was a minor flaw.
By bananacreempie on 08.08.2010
Looking at my reflection in the still waters of the pond, I wonder who created such a delight.
By BasedOnFiction URL on 08.08.2010
I’ve created a lot of things, I think
Putting other things together
Making something new
Create success, create environments
By Amiee URL on 08.08.2010
Created a sandcastle with my very own hands. then the sea created a wave and the castle washed away. Oh well… i can always make another one. This time it will be bigger and it will sparkle in the sunshine. Maybe I will even stick some periwinkles in to make it look pretty. Like a pattern of mosaic tiles.
By Cheryl Watt on 08.08.2010
Man created god, not the other way around. Something thats important to remember if the world is to survive.
By Salty on 08.08.2010
The dog sat on the stool and listened to the conversation, about how the vines in the garden weren’t really vines, and how they were made, and the atrocities in the attic, and shook his head but disguised it with an ear scratch. Humans, he thought, are distinctly unwell.
By CeeCeeElle on 08.08.2010
What they had created, something between heaven and hell, stood between them. Their house, with its walls, its crayons down the halls, the voices and the small shoes. A curse and a blessing, a person with a mind of its own. Too late to go back. It was late at night and the crying, the whispers during sleep hadn’t stopped. They put pillows over their head, turned the television on, but they could still hear him alone in his room. It was too much. It was too late.
By Meg on 08.08.2010
I don’t know if god created people, or if science created people, or if people created people. All I know is that I create.
By Elizabeth URL on 08.08.2010
God created. Then he created Creator Gods who created. Then man began to create…and on and on….
By Peaceable on 08.08.2010
She had crayons in her hand. Blue black, yellow, gold. She drew squiggles on the page. In alll the colors of the rainbow. They
By Rose on 08.08.2010
What he created, it was questionable at the least. He had spent hours rummaging through my kitchen, he had been tired of laying around for days without haven eaten. A few days, no sustenance as anyone would generally consider; we had all we needed right beside us. Which oddly enough most tended to be in absence.
By salientsty14 on 08.08.2010
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.