It is a publication issued regularly containing articles, stories etc by various writers. It can also be a compartment in or on a gun that holds cartridges or a storeroom for ammunition, explosives etc.
I flip through the magazine, glancing quickly at the famous people who are photoshopped to the point that they are no longer attractive. I circle the answers to the idiotic quizzes, insisting to myself that I am taking them ironically…
he flipped the magazine etween his finger tips letting the soft paper touch his skin. This relaxed him immediately, sending him into a trance of calmness that he rarely found. Nothing could distrub him, his mind was completely focused. Lilly sprang up from nowhere, her blonde hair hung in drapes of natural curls hiding her bright green eyes that revealed no intentions.
I have too many magazines. I don’t read them – they just pile up on the library table, accusing me of ignoring them. I have a hard time letting any of them go, if I haven’t read them – the piles grow and I feel guilty about not reading them. I took a stack of them to the public library – they have a share table – but I couldn’t let the “O”s go – I keep them thinking one day I will sit down and enjoy them – but that day slips further and further into the future. Why do I keep subscribing? I read my books instead – or play Suduko – or watch TV (although there is very little there that interests me). I keep hearing that magazines are going the way of the dinosaur – maybe that’s why I keep renewing – I think I’m supporting a lost cause. I remember when all the magazines published short stories. There was an actual market for short story writers. That’s gone, except for the “littles”. Most people probably don’t even remember short stories in magazines… A lot has changed in my lifetime. But the Kindle is a great invention. 420 books in a tablet the size of a paperback!
gahh – i think i missed yesterday’s word! poop. is it too late to add something? probably yes. well – magazines. hmmm it was be amazing to be like hanna in “pretty little liars.” because she flips through magazines (not really reading what’s in it), while listening to music and singing to it while her roomie emily is in the room. must be fun.
It was a peaceful night. The sky was freshly dark with stars littering about it like splashes of white paint. A pearl hung on the edge, wearing a shining white crown. Traffic was kept at a minimum. There were no arguing spouses or wailing children. It was just quiet.
Suddenly, a fax started printing a paper, followed by an unending beep. A man opened his door from the balcony and approached his desk cautiously. He picked up the warm paper, a single sentence formed by neat cuts of letters:
“I’m good to go. Come meet me at my garage to deliver the cellphone I asked you to fix. I will be waiting.”
-NB
From a magazine, he thought. He stared at it before slowly walking to his shredder and feeding the hungry machine the paper. He trudged downstairs, carrying a silver case with him. He set it down to wear his coat. Finally, he breathed heavily as he lifted the case with his right hand and reached for his sniper behind his door. He hastily left, footsteps as quiet as the night.
Suddenly, a bloodhurling scream pierced the air. Clouds rolled in carrying thunder and promising rain. The splashes of white were covered with the red clouds of the storm. The pearl’s crown fell off. The tranquil night has now vanished.
There in the corner slumped amongst the other forgotten words and useless advise are the trashy magazines that the public supports by tossing dollars that harass the innocent actors and musicians. I avoid them so as not to support the nightmare in their lives but fight to restrain the curious bones within me.
magazines are my favourite idle time ..i used to read magazines almost everyday.people generally read e magagines but i used to buy it from the market.health segment is my favourite
i just love her i want her back i need her in my life she is the soul the air that i breath im confused all i know is that i love her so much and im sorry for every mistake i made with her
And there she was.
And there I was.
She was beautiful and I had no choice but to fall in love with her.
Unfortunately she was on the cover of a magazine and I had no chance of ever meeting her.
I guess it’s better than the time I fell in love with the woman on the front of a box of cereal only to realize she was actually a mascot frog…
I think magazines are relaxing and fun to look at. I think my favorites deal with home fashions and decorating. I like to tear the pictures out and put them ar
Magazines are the glossed over face of the world, or at least what we perceive it to be. Magazines are supposed to tell us about the world around us, educate and inform. Now it’s just a series of glossy pages vomiting gossip until the pages are wet and sticky with the lies and scandals of the elite. It’s pathetic, really.
I used to write for a magazine, finding little snippets and titbits to put in my slot. One time i wrote about a tortoise. Strange that. If i wrote a good story i would earn my pay, a strange way to earn.
little snippets of information buzzing around like bees in a hive, all preoccupied with their own jobs, brought together in a giant honeycomb of bustling stories, thousands of words.
So yesterday I was pondering about the aspects of life. I don’t think magazines ever really crossed my mind. There’s nothing really special about these things, I mean, why do you care if a celeb was caught sitting on a toilet in their private home? Fallowing all these unnecessary events is brainwashing the importance of what you’re doing in life.
piles of them every where…. in the floor… on the table… on a book shelf…. scattered all around… but never the one i’m looking for…. magazines for the kids…. about parenting… about science… for the home… cooking… exercise… pop culture… sports… fashion… so many to choose from…. and we have them everywhere!!!!
Rip, torn, read through once, inside is life, and passing thoughts. In just a few short pages we see a complete collection of a niche’s story. Women, Hunting, or something of the sort. Very telling…
She rearranged the magazines on the table for the fith time as she patiently waited in the doctors office for the news. What would she do if the test came out positive? How would she tell he husband and children? She had worked so hard to take care of her health, she wondered how this happened. She did everything she had been adviced to do yet here she was prepared to accept the news that could rock her world. Part of her wanted to run far and fast from the office. Though ahe had no clue what the outcome was going to be, the anticipation was eating away at her mind. She tried to focus on something else such as her children’s faces but it always brought her back to the reality of her situation. She had become so strong and so whole over the las ten years. She had learned to love herself well in order to love others. She learned that surrendering to her weaknesses did not mean giving up but rather giving in to her faith that showed up best in the middle of her doubts. She learned how to fail and fall gracefully as she made her way back into her life. She fell in love with her family and life and embraced all that was given to her. She learned to count her blessings even when they looked more like a curse and most of all learned how to live in authentic community. But today she felt defeated, angry and disconnected from all she believed. She wanted her faith to carry her through but there in the sterile waiting room she heard and felt nothing, no still quiet voice, no passion or peace running through her veins. Alone, that is how she felt.m why she didn’t invite someone, her husband to join her she could not figure out. So, she waited and watched as the clock ticked as if time almost stood still and she prayed. The one thing she learned over the last ten years was that just because she felt alone did not mean she was. She focused on her faith more then her fear and put her head in her hands to ignore the clock. She was strong, brave and courageous, this is what she would tell herself everyday and today was going to be no different.
GLossy and slick, promising a better life, a different life, if you just spend, spend, buy this lipstick, buy these $300 shoes. Junk food for the mind, for the most part, although that is painting the whole medium with one heavily laden blush brush. Women’s magazines sell the lie, the dream, the fantasy.
Beauty is the evilest thing. Magazines are the carrier of a horrible disease. No one is safe. There is no cure. Best we can do is say good bye and love ourselves and those around us. NO ONE IS SAFE.
Without too much thought, she laid the paper on the table. Another tabloid. Another scandal. Just another insignificant part of another insignificant persons life. That’s all they ever are. That’s all they ever were. And that’s how she was starting to feel.
click click, everything in place, the heat of the day starting to drag on me, I feel heavy, as heavy as this gun in my hand. I slow my breathing down, focus, in tune with the birds singing around me, the cars racing past, I hear my heart beating in my head and I know without a doubt that I will squeeze the trigger.
magazines are fun to read but its hard to tell truth from fiction when it comes to magazines. but they are infromational too. they are a good resourse and can make for good collage material too.
stacks. there are always stacks, and they are always crinkly. Thats what makes me hate them. Dont get me wrong, i like magazines, but i like the feeling of brand new, crispy magazines. When they
magazines come in diffrent shapes and saizez some come with free toys and others dont. It can be a way of advertising or just a way of reading cool stuff. Their are childrens magazines and adult magazines. Some have agony aunts in were people write about their problems and recieve feedback. You can get magazines in newsagents and supermarkets.
I love to read magazines of nature and of the way people live in other countries. The pictures are vivid and come to life as you turn from page to page.
I don’t really like magazines. They annoy me most of the time. I mean, what do they know about what it’s like to be me. The people writing articles are 40, I’m 15, they haven’t been my age in forever (if forever were 25 years).
She flicked absentmindedly at the pages, running her fingers over each sharp edge and laid her eyes over every overly made up and perfect looking model, sighed, and wondered at the tragedy of how she would never look like any of them
Ratatatatatatat and the heads of the Vietnamese exploded in that deep dark sticky miserable jungle.
I tried to imagine it as I stood next to the side entrance of the tunnels, hearing the firing from the gun range echo through the jungle, 40 years later.
I don’t know what to say about magazines. On one hand, they’re interesting, they pass the time, they relay information. On the other hand, they’re unreliable and full of lies. But hey, it’s something to look at, right?
comics
Once I read a magazine about bacon, and I then I thought; “Pigs are the greatest kind of animal in the world, they take vegetables and convert them to bacon.” That day changed my view of life entirely.
It is a publication issued regularly containing articles, stories etc by various writers. It can also be a compartment in or on a gun that holds cartridges or a storeroom for ammunition, explosives etc.
I flip through the magazine, glancing quickly at the famous people who are photoshopped to the point that they are no longer attractive. I circle the answers to the idiotic quizzes, insisting to myself that I am taking them ironically…
magazines are amazing shizzka! they just take the molty from the golty in the bizzle :P
he flipped the magazine etween his finger tips letting the soft paper touch his skin. This relaxed him immediately, sending him into a trance of calmness that he rarely found. Nothing could distrub him, his mind was completely focused. Lilly sprang up from nowhere, her blonde hair hung in drapes of natural curls hiding her bright green eyes that revealed no intentions.
I have too many magazines. I don’t read them – they just pile up on the library table, accusing me of ignoring them. I have a hard time letting any of them go, if I haven’t read them – the piles grow and I feel guilty about not reading them. I took a stack of them to the public library – they have a share table – but I couldn’t let the “O”s go – I keep them thinking one day I will sit down and enjoy them – but that day slips further and further into the future. Why do I keep subscribing? I read my books instead – or play Suduko – or watch TV (although there is very little there that interests me). I keep hearing that magazines are going the way of the dinosaur – maybe that’s why I keep renewing – I think I’m supporting a lost cause. I remember when all the magazines published short stories. There was an actual market for short story writers. That’s gone, except for the “littles”. Most people probably don’t even remember short stories in magazines… A lot has changed in my lifetime. But the Kindle is a great invention. 420 books in a tablet the size of a paperback!
gahh – i think i missed yesterday’s word! poop. is it too late to add something? probably yes. well – magazines. hmmm it was be amazing to be like hanna in “pretty little liars.” because she flips through magazines (not really reading what’s in it), while listening to music and singing to it while her roomie emily is in the room. must be fun.
magazines are a good source of knowledge and entertainment.
It was a peaceful night. The sky was freshly dark with stars littering about it like splashes of white paint. A pearl hung on the edge, wearing a shining white crown. Traffic was kept at a minimum. There were no arguing spouses or wailing children. It was just quiet.
Suddenly, a fax started printing a paper, followed by an unending beep. A man opened his door from the balcony and approached his desk cautiously. He picked up the warm paper, a single sentence formed by neat cuts of letters:
“I’m good to go. Come meet me at my garage to deliver the cellphone I asked you to fix. I will be waiting.”
-NB
From a magazine, he thought. He stared at it before slowly walking to his shredder and feeding the hungry machine the paper. He trudged downstairs, carrying a silver case with him. He set it down to wear his coat. Finally, he breathed heavily as he lifted the case with his right hand and reached for his sniper behind his door. He hastily left, footsteps as quiet as the night.
Suddenly, a bloodhurling scream pierced the air. Clouds rolled in carrying thunder and promising rain. The splashes of white were covered with the red clouds of the storm. The pearl’s crown fell off. The tranquil night has now vanished.
There in the corner slumped amongst the other forgotten words and useless advise are the trashy magazines that the public supports by tossing dollars that harass the innocent actors and musicians. I avoid them so as not to support the nightmare in their lives but fight to restrain the curious bones within me.
magazines are my favourite idle time ..i used to read magazines almost everyday.people generally read e magagines but i used to buy it from the market.health segment is my favourite
i just love her i want her back i need her in my life she is the soul the air that i breath im confused all i know is that i love her so much and im sorry for every mistake i made with her
And there she was.
And there I was.
She was beautiful and I had no choice but to fall in love with her.
Unfortunately she was on the cover of a magazine and I had no chance of ever meeting her.
I guess it’s better than the time I fell in love with the woman on the front of a box of cereal only to realize she was actually a mascot frog…
I think magazines are relaxing and fun to look at. I think my favorites deal with home fashions and decorating. I like to tear the pictures out and put them ar
Magazines are the glossed over face of the world, or at least what we perceive it to be. Magazines are supposed to tell us about the world around us, educate and inform. Now it’s just a series of glossy pages vomiting gossip until the pages are wet and sticky with the lies and scandals of the elite. It’s pathetic, really.
magazines, they are what people rely on when they dont watch the news
I used to write for a magazine, finding little snippets and titbits to put in my slot. One time i wrote about a tortoise. Strange that. If i wrote a good story i would earn my pay, a strange way to earn.
little snippets of information buzzing around like bees in a hive, all preoccupied with their own jobs, brought together in a giant honeycomb of bustling stories, thousands of words.
So yesterday I was pondering about the aspects of life. I don’t think magazines ever really crossed my mind. There’s nothing really special about these things, I mean, why do you care if a celeb was caught sitting on a toilet in their private home? Fallowing all these unnecessary events is brainwashing the importance of what you’re doing in life.
piles of them every where…. in the floor… on the table… on a book shelf…. scattered all around… but never the one i’m looking for…. magazines for the kids…. about parenting… about science… for the home… cooking… exercise… pop culture… sports… fashion… so many to choose from…. and we have them everywhere!!!!
Rip, torn, read through once, inside is life, and passing thoughts. In just a few short pages we see a complete collection of a niche’s story. Women, Hunting, or something of the sort. Very telling…
She rearranged the magazines on the table for the fith time as she patiently waited in the doctors office for the news. What would she do if the test came out positive? How would she tell he husband and children? She had worked so hard to take care of her health, she wondered how this happened. She did everything she had been adviced to do yet here she was prepared to accept the news that could rock her world. Part of her wanted to run far and fast from the office. Though ahe had no clue what the outcome was going to be, the anticipation was eating away at her mind. She tried to focus on something else such as her children’s faces but it always brought her back to the reality of her situation. She had become so strong and so whole over the las ten years. She had learned to love herself well in order to love others. She learned that surrendering to her weaknesses did not mean giving up but rather giving in to her faith that showed up best in the middle of her doubts. She learned how to fail and fall gracefully as she made her way back into her life. She fell in love with her family and life and embraced all that was given to her. She learned to count her blessings even when they looked more like a curse and most of all learned how to live in authentic community. But today she felt defeated, angry and disconnected from all she believed. She wanted her faith to carry her through but there in the sterile waiting room she heard and felt nothing, no still quiet voice, no passion or peace running through her veins. Alone, that is how she felt.m why she didn’t invite someone, her husband to join her she could not figure out. So, she waited and watched as the clock ticked as if time almost stood still and she prayed. The one thing she learned over the last ten years was that just because she felt alone did not mean she was. She focused on her faith more then her fear and put her head in her hands to ignore the clock. She was strong, brave and courageous, this is what she would tell herself everyday and today was going to be no different.
GLossy and slick, promising a better life, a different life, if you just spend, spend, buy this lipstick, buy these $300 shoes. Junk food for the mind, for the most part, although that is painting the whole medium with one heavily laden blush brush. Women’s magazines sell the lie, the dream, the fantasy.
Inserted raw, as dangerous as any other foreign insertion, and lacking of any latex protection I might add. They are the ammo that changes lives.
Beauty is the evilest thing. Magazines are the carrier of a horrible disease. No one is safe. There is no cure. Best we can do is say good bye and love ourselves and those around us. NO ONE IS SAFE.
Without too much thought, she laid the paper on the table. Another tabloid. Another scandal. Just another insignificant part of another insignificant persons life. That’s all they ever are. That’s all they ever were. And that’s how she was starting to feel.
click click, everything in place, the heat of the day starting to drag on me, I feel heavy, as heavy as this gun in my hand. I slow my breathing down, focus, in tune with the birds singing around me, the cars racing past, I hear my heart beating in my head and I know without a doubt that I will squeeze the trigger.
magazines are fun to read but its hard to tell truth from fiction when it comes to magazines. but they are infromational too. they are a good resourse and can make for good collage material too.
stacks. there are always stacks, and they are always crinkly. Thats what makes me hate them. Dont get me wrong, i like magazines, but i like the feeling of brand new, crispy magazines. When they
magazines come in diffrent shapes and saizez some come with free toys and others dont. It can be a way of advertising or just a way of reading cool stuff. Their are childrens magazines and adult magazines. Some have agony aunts in were people write about their problems and recieve feedback. You can get magazines in newsagents and supermarkets.
I love to read magazines of nature and of the way people live in other countries. The pictures are vivid and come to life as you turn from page to page.
I don’t really like magazines. They annoy me most of the time. I mean, what do they know about what it’s like to be me. The people writing articles are 40, I’m 15, they haven’t been my age in forever (if forever were 25 years).
Stacked high around the room. Collected. Some read and some still sealed in their packets. Untouched. The dust not tainting their crisp pages.
She flicked absentmindedly at the pages, running her fingers over each sharp edge and laid her eyes over every overly made up and perfect looking model, sighed, and wondered at the tragedy of how she would never look like any of them
He loaded the magazines again.
Ratatatatatatat and the heads of the Vietnamese exploded in that deep dark sticky miserable jungle.
I tried to imagine it as I stood next to the side entrance of the tunnels, hearing the firing from the gun range echo through the jungle, 40 years later.
(magazines)
I don’t know what to say about magazines. On one hand, they’re interesting, they pass the time, they relay information. On the other hand, they’re unreliable and full of lies. But hey, it’s something to look at, right?
You can read in it.
text and pictures.
it can be a newspapper about things that is or have happend around the world.
it can be a newspapper abot gossip.
papers
comics
Once I read a magazine about bacon, and I then I thought; “Pigs are the greatest kind of animal in the world, they take vegetables and convert them to bacon.” That day changed my view of life entirely.
it’s made of papper and people enjoy reading it in their free time. it has comics and funny news.
Paper, News, Trees, Amazon, internet, evenings, groups, Death announces, films, series, books, cartoon, soduko, crossword