The heat burbles at night
In my tiny flat
And I wake up with hotflashes
Wake up wondering if the energy
From the vessels of my heart
Are going stirfry in a wok crazy
I sweat and shed the layers
Musical generator
Of the night
I filed my arrogance under ott and kicked the living Christ out of my Jerry can. Should have listened to the wife. A weekend at the winter cabin and I firgot the fuel . I will freeze to death now. Goodbye my trusty nail gun. I will never caress your soft curves ever again.
He was a generator, one who generated the false sense of security. He generated money like no other. Or the idea of money. Wall Street. It never sleeps right? Well neither does Beckman. His life is money, he breathes it.
So this is it. Alone in this cabin, in the middle of a blizzard, and out of fuel for the generator. How did I get here, so far removed from the bustling city life of my youth? I watched the sun come up, and made a mental note of my remaining supplies. A few odds and ends, a couple of days worth of rice and canned goods, two pairs of clothes, a towel, and a well-loved copy of “American Gods,” and a sleeping bag. I listened as the wind howled, contemplating the journey that lay ahead…
Spin the knobs, little man. Construct your desires and your dreams. Smoke spews up and out the windows as you sit hunched over your little machinations.
the lights had failed that night in an unpredictable way, though the storm had been forecast nearly a week ago. there was no soft, double flicker of blown filament before the room was suddenly dark. elsa struggled to reach a candle from the windowsill, blinded and caught unaware.
generator – I wish there was one that picked the right match for you. Your other half. So I can stop searching. Even though I’m only 16, I’m tired of always picking the wrong guy.
to generate the amount of energy it requires to wake up in the morning, put on a decent outfit, properly fix their face, and sit in school for 7 hours a day is extraordinary. I have failed as a generator.
that big machine that runs things when the electricity doesn’t work. we need one? the handy dandy neighbors have one and use it now and then and i see them for sale at the big construction store . would I feel safer with one
i think of a machine generating random thoughts. it’s thoughts bouncing off within your heads. it could be about that boy you like. that other boy you’re thinking about. those daisies you saw on the way to the shuttle. how you skipped over glass when walking to class today. the bounce and skip the guy did when he pulled up his pants. all these thoughts are randomly generated.
to generate the amount of energy it requires to wake up in the morning, put on a decent outfit, properly fix their face, and sit in school for 7 hours a day is extraordinary. I have failed as a generator,
When this crazy star that keeps us company
burns out in an asymptotic explosion
we will light this world with the generator
of ourselves and shine our brilliant light
on the universe and we will outshine
all the other stars so that even the milky way
couldn’t ignore our splendor
The extra generator we had in the basement stopped working. It’s twenty below outside and all the pipes are frozen solid. We’re freezing in here! My God! We planned, we thought very carefully trying to avoid tis very thing. Go figure!
The generator was losing power. I was losing hope. Where did he go? He should have fixed it by now. The lights are flickering…
Where is he?
We don’t have much time left here, they’re coming after us. I don’t know what to do.
I hear a faint voice…
If this website is a generator that pumps out only one word per day, it doesn’t really promote all that much flow after all, does it? So many questions….
I am a generator of good. At every turn, in every way. If I am not generating good, then I am not using my fuel properly. Generator. My role. My fuel. For others.
I don’t know why there isn’t a wonderful karma generator somewhere in the world. I feel like fate sometimes forgets the good things that I do and I never get reimbursed for it. Where’s the green lights when I need them? Wouldn’t it be great to just be able to mass produce luck on days that desperately need it?
It was if a chaos generator has suddenly been switched on and the universe was scrambled. The van seemed to lurch and bounce but that, too, could have been just an illusion in the fog of chaos that was raining down. And then Jensen felt a hand grasp his crotch and hold on for deal life.
The generator buzzed, zipped, roared as the electricity surged through the small wooden house. What happened to the simpler times of coal burning stoves and wood fires, Buck thought. He and Sally had taken refuge in the cabin during the midnight storm, but he had the urge to run as soon as he stepped in the door.
make make make
the generator’s work is never done
churning out great heaping piles of
this
that
the other
for those who
take take take
without ever looking the generator
in the eye
When the power is going to go out because of inclement weather, I start to wish that we had a generator at our house. The times in between, I never think about such a thing.
I think about how quickly this program is tracking the me the word genearator.
When the power went down and the light in the cabin winked out, she was not immediately concerned. It would be the third time in as many weeks. She waited for the diesel generator to kick in and the heating to be restored.
But the faint report of gunshots changed the meaning of everything.
“Get up!” she said urgently. “Wake up!”
The man lying beneath the window murmured, rolled over and brought his hand up to wipe his face. His eyes remained shut.
She was already at his side, her hands on his shoulders, shaking him into consciousness. “F-ck off, don’t touch me!” he hissed.
The generator had not kicked in. It sat mute in its own small room adjacent to the cabin, and apart from the gunshots the world was blissfully quiet.
“Please, they’re coming!” Tears were forming at the base of her eyes. She touched his face pleadingly. “Please, you have to fix the generator now!”
With no warning he was on his feet and gone. Snowdrift blew in through the open door. She tensed her muscles against the cold wind and her right hand reached instinctively for the ring on her left, turning it around and around her finger.
Something that creates for you; ideas, art, innovation and thought. A brain-prevention system that does the thinking for you and keeps your thoughts free for other more important things, like HBO.
He was filled with regret. He should have bought a generator after the last storm, as he’d planned. One day had led to the next, and he kept putting it off, until . . .
The generator’s dead… again. We’re already freezing. Our food’s spoiling and the water heater runs on electricity, so we’ll be taking cold showers for a while. Oh well; at least we can keep each other warm.
Times like these, I find myself closing my eyes and regretting ever growing up. Because once you grow up, your entire perspective changes. You realize we are the generators of our problems, people lie and the world isn’t all good. That’s when you finally notice the people you thought you knew well aren’t anything like you imagined. Everything changes. With the blinds finally open, the light can be too strong to handle.
One word was all it took to begin the novel she had avoided. How she had searched for the concept, idea and theme, yet one word was the generator for the entire story. What was that word?
generator – to inspire, to create, to be a catalyst, to supply energy, to be the bang in the cosmos, the double arrows in a chemical equation, the face of the lily turning towards the suns rays cresting the horizon
The monstrous noise of the generator echoed throughout the dank basement. He peered around the corner. Toy shield crooked and wrapping paper roll sword in hand.
Buzz… buzzing… buzzing… buzz…
I’m so bored. I have nothing to say.
The heat burbles at night
In my tiny flat
And I wake up with hotflashes
Wake up wondering if the energy
From the vessels of my heart
Are going stirfry in a wok crazy
I sweat and shed the layers
Musical generator
Of the night
I filed my arrogance under ott and kicked the living Christ out of my Jerry can. Should have listened to the wife. A weekend at the winter cabin and I firgot the fuel . I will freeze to death now. Goodbye my trusty nail gun. I will never caress your soft curves ever again.
And Hawkeye was furious that the unit’s one and only generator had again failed to work under the pressuresome situation that was ‘meatball’ surgery.
He was a generator, one who generated the false sense of security. He generated money like no other. Or the idea of money. Wall Street. It never sleeps right? Well neither does Beckman. His life is money, he breathes it.
So this is it. Alone in this cabin, in the middle of a blizzard, and out of fuel for the generator. How did I get here, so far removed from the bustling city life of my youth? I watched the sun come up, and made a mental note of my remaining supplies. A few odds and ends, a couple of days worth of rice and canned goods, two pairs of clothes, a towel, and a well-loved copy of “American Gods,” and a sleeping bag. I listened as the wind howled, contemplating the journey that lay ahead…
Spin the knobs, little man. Construct your desires and your dreams. Smoke spews up and out the windows as you sit hunched over your little machinations.
the lights had failed that night in an unpredictable way, though the storm had been forecast nearly a week ago. there was no soft, double flicker of blown filament before the room was suddenly dark. elsa struggled to reach a candle from the windowsill, blinded and caught unaware.
generator – I wish there was one that picked the right match for you. Your other half. So I can stop searching. Even though I’m only 16, I’m tired of always picking the wrong guy.
to generate the amount of energy it requires to wake up in the morning, put on a decent outfit, properly fix their face, and sit in school for 7 hours a day is extraordinary. I have failed as a generator.
that big machine that runs things when the electricity doesn’t work. we need one? the handy dandy neighbors have one and use it now and then and i see them for sale at the big construction store . would I feel safer with one
i think of a machine generating random thoughts. it’s thoughts bouncing off within your heads. it could be about that boy you like. that other boy you’re thinking about. those daisies you saw on the way to the shuttle. how you skipped over glass when walking to class today. the bounce and skip the guy did when he pulled up his pants. all these thoughts are randomly generated.
to generate the amount of energy it requires to wake up in the morning, put on a decent outfit, properly fix their face, and sit in school for 7 hours a day is extraordinary. I have failed as a generator,
There once was a blackout and thankfully there was a generator!
kfwhflkdsf,mdflksudlkiudf,.sdjud,sf,dmhjfmdshfvkldjkxnhfvsiofnhiwofndskufhdxkjfhcmfhxkvbdixfhnsdkfhdkshfsdkjhfjkfffffffffffffffffffffffffjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjfgmcvmxnckx,ncsdkcf/sdhfdjdfkdkfjdsflkf;foshilove kcnvkdnc,nzxb c z,mv ,c xm,cxzcnj mnm.m.sdfkldjfsdkl; ;;a lk fkjfjdfjdslfkjckvnckvnc,vmcnvcvncnvcncnc,mvnjjkxcvbjvbnchuvbnfhivocklxcfjnhdkfklfhfckjxccxnhxjkjhkxcjxjkcxjcxjcjfvjvvjvkjvbjbvjkcxvlkgfhkfljkfkjdkgflkgjsfgfdssdfkcc,kknjkkkjlsdfsdjhfjdhkjsfdkllgfkjlfkljfffjkfjhdkslghghmvjkchvkdfjgdkfjjgjdkfjgkdfgdfjdfufkfhgiokfdjhfdfhjdfkgjdfiogjdflkgjklujhkflugjfldkjskljl;gjkflgjklgjlkgnklvnvckvckvncm,bnc,.nv,vcn.,cvncvbkjvhgbkf.
When this crazy star that keeps us company
burns out in an asymptotic explosion
we will light this world with the generator
of ourselves and shine our brilliant light
on the universe and we will outshine
all the other stars so that even the milky way
couldn’t ignore our splendor
The extra generator we had in the basement stopped working. It’s twenty below outside and all the pipes are frozen solid. We’re freezing in here! My God! We planned, we thought very carefully trying to avoid tis very thing. Go figure!
The generator was losing power. I was losing hope. Where did he go? He should have fixed it by now. The lights are flickering…
Where is he?
We don’t have much time left here, they’re coming after us. I don’t know what to do.
I hear a faint voice…
If this website is a generator that pumps out only one word per day, it doesn’t really promote all that much flow after all, does it? So many questions….
I am a generator of good. At every turn, in every way. If I am not generating good, then I am not using my fuel properly. Generator. My role. My fuel. For others.
I don’t know why there isn’t a wonderful karma generator somewhere in the world. I feel like fate sometimes forgets the good things that I do and I never get reimbursed for it. Where’s the green lights when I need them? Wouldn’t it be great to just be able to mass produce luck on days that desperately need it?
The generator is broken.
Out fridge.
Oh my god all our food will perish if we don’t eat it now!
…
Tonight. WE FEAST.
*metaphor for lyf. hope you all caught dat.
It was if a chaos generator has suddenly been switched on and the universe was scrambled. The van seemed to lurch and bounce but that, too, could have been just an illusion in the fog of chaos that was raining down. And then Jensen felt a hand grasp his crotch and hold on for deal life.
The generator buzzed, zipped, roared as the electricity surged through the small wooden house. What happened to the simpler times of coal burning stoves and wood fires, Buck thought. He and Sally had taken refuge in the cabin during the midnight storm, but he had the urge to run as soon as he stepped in the door.
make make make
the generator’s work is never done
churning out great heaping piles of
this
that
the other
for those who
take take take
without ever looking the generator
in the eye
When the power is going to go out because of inclement weather, I start to wish that we had a generator at our house. The times in between, I never think about such a thing.
I think about how quickly this program is tracking the me the word genearator.
When the power went down and the light in the cabin winked out, she was not immediately concerned. It would be the third time in as many weeks. She waited for the diesel generator to kick in and the heating to be restored.
But the faint report of gunshots changed the meaning of everything.
“Get up!” she said urgently. “Wake up!”
The man lying beneath the window murmured, rolled over and brought his hand up to wipe his face. His eyes remained shut.
She was already at his side, her hands on his shoulders, shaking him into consciousness. “F-ck off, don’t touch me!” he hissed.
The generator had not kicked in. It sat mute in its own small room adjacent to the cabin, and apart from the gunshots the world was blissfully quiet.
“Please, they’re coming!” Tears were forming at the base of her eyes. She touched his face pleadingly. “Please, you have to fix the generator now!”
With no warning he was on his feet and gone. Snowdrift blew in through the open door. She tensed her muscles against the cold wind and her right hand reached instinctively for the ring on her left, turning it around and around her finger.
Something that creates for you; ideas, art, innovation and thought. A brain-prevention system that does the thinking for you and keeps your thoughts free for other more important things, like HBO.
He was filled with regret. He should have bought a generator after the last storm, as he’d planned. One day had led to the next, and he kept putting it off, until . . .
The generator’s dead… again. We’re already freezing. Our food’s spoiling and the water heater runs on electricity, so we’ll be taking cold showers for a while. Oh well; at least we can keep each other warm.
.
Generator hum and burn.
Boudin and brats
Whiskey and beer
Flags and laughter.
Purple and Gold
Football Season sights, sounds and smells
generating…
games buck o hare space mammals doc who electricty big loud energy machines robot guns lasers fizz bang wollop
Times like these, I find myself closing my eyes and regretting ever growing up. Because once you grow up, your entire perspective changes. You realize we are the generators of our problems, people lie and the world isn’t all good. That’s when you finally notice the people you thought you knew well aren’t anything like you imagined. Everything changes. With the blinds finally open, the light can be too strong to handle.
make you feel better la la la la laaa la la la. That song is now stuck in my head. Deep south large trucks with rattling engines, power cuts solu
One word was all it took to begin the novel she had avoided. How she had searched for the concept, idea and theme, yet one word was the generator for the entire story. What was that word?
generator – to inspire, to create, to be a catalyst, to supply energy, to be the bang in the cosmos, the double arrows in a chemical equation, the face of the lily turning towards the suns rays cresting the horizon
The monstrous noise of the generator echoed throughout the dank basement. He peered around the corner. Toy shield crooked and wrapping paper roll sword in hand.
We use a generator to help us heat our homes, cafeteria, school, office buildings and any other buildinguk