“This is your creative outlet,” the voice reminded him. “This is how you silence the voices, organize the thoughts, and provide nourishment for burgeoning ideas. So maybe don’t wait until the last minute to do it, next time?”
The clothing store had begun to molder. The hardware depot had browned with rust. It was quiet in this place, a silence only interrupted by the moan of timber or the whisper of wind. But no sounds came from living things, and at night the shadows danced upon the walls and spoke secrets to absent ears.
I have not been to an outlet in ages. I used to live about an hour away from the beach where all of the outlet stores are. I remember friends and family traveling to go shopping at the outlets. I guess that I am more of a mall type girl.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t plug in, it was that I didn’t want to. Ultimately, no matter where I went, I knew the words aching to burst forth wouldn’t be the words that made their way out.
But no matter the actual definitions of the words, at least something was happening. Hoooo boy.
Marriage to this miscarriage of unholy wrought fucks, nary a fuck was given, take your balls out of my mouth you slithering gulp of arsenic I won’t submit my life, my line of rite, my blood, my work, my veins, I won’t have a single breath of it. Don’t you gather my wheat, my flowers. In the film of things, my voice should ring, but now I glower and squirm, struggle for the power, I can crush it all neath my fist when I decide to take and not to give. All in the water now.
ZZZZAAAP! Horatio convulsed against the wall, a puff of skin-smelling smoke wafting from the electrical outlet. With mere sections of electrical pulses, involuntary teeth chattering and heart-stopping shocks, the young man slumped down to the ground, his body expelling a burping gurgle. And that’s how Lacy found him, a heap of barely alive, singed meat.
She placed her foot in the ugly red machine, pushing it forward to her breaking point. It stretched and stretched her toes into perfect points, and she felt the tug of muscles and tendons like a pressure release. She breathed deeply, one breath, and she was calm.
it’s on the edge of town if you look closely enough. we like to go there at night and stare at the water trickling through the pipe into the river, which might go to the other town, which might end up in the ocean, which might someday be turned into rain and fall into puddles and drip back through the outlet.
i feel like pieces of me are falling off one by one and all i can do it watch the water.
Gah, i need a damn outlet, i need money though. i want to do so many things this year and its already a quarter of the ay through. this summer is going to need to be very productive within my personal life. i need to start now, but im so damn tired all the time lol im gonna get at it. start with this dance class in east harlem now that its warm.
you were my outlet, my release. when life pulled me down, you were my parachute. you couldn’t save me from hitting rock bottom, nobody could, but you slowed me down long enough to enjoy the view.
I use an outlet to plug in my phone. I have an outlet to express my anger in an appropriate manner. Outlets are useful for so many things. Outlets are necessary to express yourself. It’s bad to keep everything bottled within yourself. It’s unhealthy and creates more and more problems.
Not one for fake satisfaction, I rest my palm on the drum hide.
Turn it topside and see what there is to find.
An outline traces ridges and waves.
I learned how I naieve it was to think in caves.
Burned the oil and the wood.
Passed the time as I stood.
Watching their shadows leap up off the wall.
They remind me that the future’s getting tall.
An outlet seemed the only unwavering action course.
But strength is not always measured with use of force.
Running was an outlet for the frustrations and tensions she felt. It was a wonderful way to let loose and get rid of the tension in her body that was beginning to make her feel like she was going to explode. If only there was more time, and a better place to run.
outlet. Makes me think of outlet malls in Orlando. That’s where my best friend lives. She has a few more weeks there and I have a few more weeks left in Tampa.
He used her as an outlet for his anger. Storming rage, brewing underneath the skin, and he took it out on her with harsh words that stung like splattering oil from a cooking pan. And after everything was said, he would try to kiss the wounds better, but the damage was done. You could see the burn marks on her skin by the way she held herself. Such a beautiful creature damaged, but so was he. No one was innocent here, and they both got wounded somehow in the end. They wold be the destruction of each other. Love was not for them, but alas, it is an infection no one can get rid of.
i’ve been in outlet yesterday. I saw a scary little dog ,who staring at me like a psycho. He was angry ,and i don’ like him. I was kind of dizzy. Ooo man i was so scare so i shit in my pants
The outlet mall buzzed with people today. I looked up towards my mother who brushed her way through the discounted rack of all her favorite brands. This, however, uninterested me. My gaze wandered from person to person. Face to face. Wondering why each of them decided today, of all days, to show. It was unbearably crowded.
The outlet was full with the charging portals of so many that had used it before. It was full of the ghosts of people that were long gone, it was full of the memories and the bitter melancholy that came with having to unplug, and in turn, leave a ghost behind and walk away.
It lingered, bright and ominous. It was our only source of power or energy, yet it remained lifeless. The outlet in the airport terminal was blinking, mocking. It turned on itself. On me. On us. We were desperately relying on it. I ran out of patience, so just walked of the edge.
We all need it, though some never find it. I have often found myself switching between them, this one loses my interest, that one is less effective over time, but they are an essential part of humanity,and that essential part is why they’re often so hard to find and keep. We’re always looking for news ways.
there was an outlet about how much it could grow, it felt as if it was a way out of the world he was living in, an escape, a way to be reborn into the life he always wished he had, as if this world wasn’t good enough, he wanted the parallel life, the one where he was great, visible, the person everyone talked about, but there
Her stomach did little flips as she approached. The deli’s new cashier always stared through her like she was made of glass. Keeping her eyes down, she handed him a dollar for the chips. His palm lingered as he handed her the change, sending a shock of electricity through her.
The silence is shattered by the sound of broken glass. A girl stands by the window, breathing heavily. Her knuckles are bleeding, and she looks furious. As she strikes the window again, she cries out in agony, but her face relaxes. She knows they’ll never understand. This is how she calms down.
Stupid charger. The fucking thing is broken. AGAIN. I can’t believe it. Or maybe its the outlet… no it can’t be. Anyway, I’ll just have to buy another one. This is the sixth one THIS YEAR. Fucker.
My friend and I went to that outlet in the shopping mall. That outlet sells gifts such as toy boxes, vases and many more. We bought a bouquet of flowers to give to our friend who is currently studying in Australia. It costs 25 dollars.
“This is your creative outlet,” the voice reminded him. “This is how you silence the voices, organize the thoughts, and provide nourishment for burgeoning ideas. So maybe don’t wait until the last minute to do it, next time?”
The clothing store had begun to molder. The hardware depot had browned with rust. It was quiet in this place, a silence only interrupted by the moan of timber or the whisper of wind. But no sounds came from living things, and at night the shadows danced upon the walls and spoke secrets to absent ears.
I have not been to an outlet in ages. I used to live about an hour away from the beach where all of the outlet stores are. I remember friends and family traveling to go shopping at the outlets. I guess that I am more of a mall type girl.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t plug in, it was that I didn’t want to. Ultimately, no matter where I went, I knew the words aching to burst forth wouldn’t be the words that made their way out.
But no matter the actual definitions of the words, at least something was happening. Hoooo boy.
Marriage to this miscarriage of unholy wrought fucks, nary a fuck was given, take your balls out of my mouth you slithering gulp of arsenic I won’t submit my life, my line of rite, my blood, my work, my veins, I won’t have a single breath of it. Don’t you gather my wheat, my flowers. In the film of things, my voice should ring, but now I glower and squirm, struggle for the power, I can crush it all neath my fist when I decide to take and not to give. All in the water now.
ZZZZAAAP! Horatio convulsed against the wall, a puff of skin-smelling smoke wafting from the electrical outlet. With mere sections of electrical pulses, involuntary teeth chattering and heart-stopping shocks, the young man slumped down to the ground, his body expelling a burping gurgle. And that’s how Lacy found him, a heap of barely alive, singed meat.
She placed her foot in the ugly red machine, pushing it forward to her breaking point. It stretched and stretched her toes into perfect points, and she felt the tug of muscles and tendons like a pressure release. She breathed deeply, one breath, and she was calm.
i let
my outlet
fade
far and away
to write is too
much
when there are dishes to do
i’ve left
my dreams
in the kitchen sink
it’s on the edge of town if you look closely enough. we like to go there at night and stare at the water trickling through the pipe into the river, which might go to the other town, which might end up in the ocean, which might someday be turned into rain and fall into puddles and drip back through the outlet.
i feel like pieces of me are falling off one by one and all i can do it watch the water.
Gah, i need a damn outlet, i need money though. i want to do so many things this year and its already a quarter of the ay through. this summer is going to need to be very productive within my personal life. i need to start now, but im so damn tired all the time lol im gonna get at it. start with this dance class in east harlem now that its warm.
Clothes, drinks, places, money, cards, products, expensive,cheap, fun
you were my outlet, my release. when life pulled me down, you were my parachute. you couldn’t save me from hitting rock bottom, nobody could, but you slowed me down long enough to enjoy the view.
I use an outlet to plug in my phone. I have an outlet to express my anger in an appropriate manner. Outlets are useful for so many things. Outlets are necessary to express yourself. It’s bad to keep everything bottled within yourself. It’s unhealthy and creates more and more problems.
Not one for fake satisfaction, I rest my palm on the drum hide.
Turn it topside and see what there is to find.
An outline traces ridges and waves.
I learned how I naieve it was to think in caves.
Burned the oil and the wood.
Passed the time as I stood.
Watching their shadows leap up off the wall.
They remind me that the future’s getting tall.
An outlet seemed the only unwavering action course.
But strength is not always measured with use of force.
Running was an outlet for the frustrations and tensions she felt. It was a wonderful way to let loose and get rid of the tension in her body that was beginning to make her feel like she was going to explode. If only there was more time, and a better place to run.
outlet. Makes me think of outlet malls in Orlando. That’s where my best friend lives. She has a few more weeks there and I have a few more weeks left in Tampa.
He used her as an outlet for his anger. Storming rage, brewing underneath the skin, and he took it out on her with harsh words that stung like splattering oil from a cooking pan. And after everything was said, he would try to kiss the wounds better, but the damage was done. You could see the burn marks on her skin by the way she held herself. Such a beautiful creature damaged, but so was he. No one was innocent here, and they both got wounded somehow in the end. They wold be the destruction of each other. Love was not for them, but alas, it is an infection no one can get rid of.
i’ve been in outlet yesterday. I saw a scary little dog ,who staring at me like a psycho. He was angry ,and i don’ like him. I was kind of dizzy. Ooo man i was so scare so i shit in my pants
The outlet mall buzzed with people today. I looked up towards my mother who brushed her way through the discounted rack of all her favorite brands. This, however, uninterested me. My gaze wandered from person to person. Face to face. Wondering why each of them decided today, of all days, to show. It was unbearably crowded.
The outlet was full with the charging portals of so many that had used it before. It was full of the ghosts of people that were long gone, it was full of the memories and the bitter melancholy that came with having to unplug, and in turn, leave a ghost behind and walk away.
It lingered, bright and ominous. It was our only source of power or energy, yet it remained lifeless. The outlet in the airport terminal was blinking, mocking. It turned on itself. On me. On us. We were desperately relying on it. I ran out of patience, so just walked of the edge.
We all need it, though some never find it. I have often found myself switching between them, this one loses my interest, that one is less effective over time, but they are an essential part of humanity,and that essential part is why they’re often so hard to find and keep. We’re always looking for news ways.
there was an outlet about how much it could grow, it felt as if it was a way out of the world he was living in, an escape, a way to be reborn into the life he always wished he had, as if this world wasn’t good enough, he wanted the parallel life, the one where he was great, visible, the person everyone talked about, but there
Her stomach did little flips as she approached. The deli’s new cashier always stared through her like she was made of glass. Keeping her eyes down, she handed him a dollar for the chips. His palm lingered as he handed her the change, sending a shock of electricity through her.
The silence is shattered by the sound of broken glass. A girl stands by the window, breathing heavily. Her knuckles are bleeding, and she looks furious. As she strikes the window again, she cries out in agony, but her face relaxes. She knows they’ll never understand. This is how she calms down.
Stupid charger. The fucking thing is broken. AGAIN. I can’t believe it. Or maybe its the outlet… no it can’t be. Anyway, I’ll just have to buy another one. This is the sixth one THIS YEAR. Fucker.
a outlet is something in the wall.
My friend and I went to that outlet in the shopping mall. That outlet sells gifts such as toy boxes, vases and many more. We bought a bouquet of flowers to give to our friend who is currently studying in Australia. It costs 25 dollars.