Slowly, edgar edged the projector into place. His victim blinked as he turned it on, glaring him directly in the face. The sheen of sweat clear visible from the first row showed the audience how nervous he was.
Projector. Just a machine? Or a person? Who is the projector? This makes it sound like a superhero. It’s not though, not in the conventional sense . There’s a million projectors. One on each business team in the country. Just like you have an opener and a closer and a numbers and figures guy for every sales pitch, you also have a projector, though what that is isn’t quite as clear.
The projector in the classroom was bugging me so much that I kicked it over and accidentaly broke it. oops! #sorrynotsorry #IAMTOOCOOLFORTHISISH Branna Smith is so annoying…jk(she’s standing behind me as I write this)
It had gotten ridiculous. People were organising a hunt where they would use lights, spotlights, projectors, any light source they could find to illuminate the dark zone and see if they could find the “monster”. The committee was livid, as it was a waste of energy that they could scarcely afford, and there was no way it would ever conclusively prove the existence or otherwise of any life form in the dark zone. Eventually, they banned the illumination of the dark zone in any way, for any reason; ostensibly to avoid wasting energy, but mainly to get people to concentrate their efforts on the tasks that would ensure their survival.
I am the projector. The projector of life. The projector of love. The projector of kindness. I wish to project my positivity onto others so they can become projectors themselves. Project what you wish to receive. Project what you feel in your heart.
the projector’s low hum was the only sound besides the teacher’s calm speech. from her vantage spot right next to it, she could feel a small bubble of warmth emanating from the projector. projectors were a tool in this classroom that was much used, and as it perched on the cart she redirected her eyes to the front of the classroom, where their current topic of study was being projected. it was something or other about cells – she hadn’t been listening.
movies, televbisions, miss mac, miss muir, homework. assignments, orals, i dont knwo what is going on why am i doing this… what is happeneing
blah
blah
word
word word word word
word
word
word
word
word
word
word
wor
dw
ro
wojfd
onmdkn
Projector like a screen in your 7th grade class and you’re elated by you don’t have to listen to her talk to dark. And there’s darnkness and coolness and a place where you can dream and let your mind wander and I’m walking through space and there is no time and red burnt clouds are floating
I walked in and it was up there on the projector and the rest of the department were sat staring at the picture. It was meant to be a private moment and the picture was something we swore we’d never share. She obviously didn’t take that promise very seriously.
I turned out of the room and walked away, keeping on walking until I’d left for good.
The projector took up the whole wall, the flickering lights left space for nothing else and it was all lies. It left no space for doubt, and why would they? The lies were so big, the truth would be unguessable unless you already knew it.
The projector on the wall took up all the space it could, it left no space for anything else – no imagination, and no truth. The lights flickering above my eyes were portraying nothing but lies, lies that everyone else believed. They were so big, there wasn’t enough space for anything else unless you knew the truth.
There is a project in the language lab at work. I think it hates me, based upon the atrocious sounds and squeals that it makes when I attempt to turn it on. When I stand in front of it, and eerily familiar shadow appears. I don’t like this shadow, and I’m not entirely sure why.
a projector is often used in classrooms to display information in a visual copasity. a projector is often used in the home to show off holidays, before facebook was invented.
All I remember thinking was how much I hate my class. The professer is always so boring. He was rambling on about dinomials and the quadradic formulas when he flipped on the projector. A loud bang and a flash sent me flying back in my chair. When I came to I was the only one who was still breathing.
She was young. She stood beside it. It stared at her furiously. It was left for her. The projector lit up the room with a white light. All she had to do was press play. But she couldn’t and she wouldn’t.
Projector. I don’t even know what to say about this word. Mind blank right? Projectors were used in my school for watching teachers take notes. They were mainly used in math class. I really fucking hate math class. I’m not good at it at all. Projecting what my future will look like in a year? I project that I will be living here still with Nick. Hopefully I’ll be on my way to my esthetician license.
We have a white projector in our class to teach us math, the projector projects the work up on the wall to help us learn our objectives. Sometimes the teacher uses blue marker and other days she uses green or purple. I like when she usus the purple marker because it has more color and makes me relax,
The quiet room was suddenly filled with gasps of awe and astonishment as the teens saw the footage on the projector of the tragedy that had occurred many years prior, leaving them only with wistful and sorrowful thoughts.
The projector lay on her desk with a display of a poem on the board. It was written in purple on one of those old plasticy page things, that lets the light shine through so a whole room of students can see. It was a math class so no one understood what a poem about nature had to do with numbers that already don’t make any sense. She moved too fast for a room of half asleep, worked to the bone, horny kids and she never even stopped to ask if anyone had questions. And yet, after reading the words, the violet ink smeared in the most beautiful of ways as she cleaned the page, and the class began to sit up straighter, with more attention in their eyes. What was going to happen today they all wondered.
The projector didn’t seem to do much. It just sat there. What was it used for? No one really knew. It was broken, after all. The broken piece of equipment in the classroom that no one used. Did it overheat? No one actually wanted to know. Why did they keep it? Well, to put it simply, the school board was cheap. But that was the way of life at this school. This school of projectors.
I like to see an idea on projector. Projector illuminates one wall and everything else is in darkness. It helps you to focus on idea which is being projected. Somehow it forces me to shut down all the wandering thoughts in my mind and focus only on idea which is being projected.
Because we all have choice in the classroom, the projector tends to be something to allow for further expansion. One can easily relate to others and visually see graphics that may apply to their own learning.
“Damn it.” Clara bit her lip and forced herself to face the class.
“I guess the, uh, projector’s not working,” she said with a strained grin. “So I guess I’ll just have to… to…”
The knot in her stomach tightened. Oh God, as if she wasn’t nervous enough about this presentation. She dug her nails into her palms and tried to focus.
“I can do this,” she said, more to herself than her peers.
Its a simple useful tool that helps me with my art.
It projects what i want and i dont have to waste my time drawing things perfectly.
Its algo is bad cuz makes me lazy. :P
The projector, while at first glance was pitch black, was somehow emitting a black light itself. The light was blinding it the way that it feigned darkness. It was approaching me. It reached the air directly in front of my face, and suddenly, it became impossible to breathe.
I walked into class, a typical weekday routine. Except, no one was in the classroom yet. It was unlocked, but all of the lights were off. The only source of light came from the projector. It showed static, a deafening static. Suddenly, a black figure appeared on the screen, growing larger and larger and appearing to be approaching closer and closer to me.
The projector illuminates one wall of the room, surrounded by gloom and disparity in the form of effervescent shadow. The darkness that envelopes the existence of this sheltered alcove of thought is kept in check by the luminosity of the expression of ideas.
I want a projector for my slideshow business. I heard that people rent them, but I want one so that people can pay me to sit and show the wonderful slideshow that I made for them – if they don’t have a projector themselves. quality is my aim above all.
A device which displays the ideas of an individual to the masses, thus effectively communicating and strengthening interpersonal relationships. As such, this is a medium of ideas, creating strings of interconnected minds and consciousnesses. By displaying ideas in light, it illuminates thought.
They pulled down the projector and it all came to me at once. I fell to my knees and cried so many tears. I struggle to lift myself up and I took her hand. “Yes.” I answered. “I will marry you.”
The projector in the classroom was broken, so I couldn’t show the movie like I wanted to. Instead, I had the students bust out the smartphones and cameras and see if they could make their own movies. What started as individual tomfoolery, to my initial shock and my resulting admiration, turned into a class-wide act of cooperation. At first, students just wanted to make their own single goofy videos. Now, they wanted to create an entire group production.
It was the projector that threw the image on to the screen
The lights that blasted every inch
The eyes that sucked up the pictures
and the mind that threw around what had just been seen
He was a dirty projector, but that didn’t stop her from being a flirty pretender. She twirled in the wind as the edge of her red hem billowed and lifted, a wink and a nod, and they were off to go catch a show for two on some back-alley wall.
Slowly, edgar edged the projector into place. His victim blinked as he turned it on, glaring him directly in the face. The sheen of sweat clear visible from the first row showed the audience how nervous he was.
Projector. Just a machine? Or a person? Who is the projector? This makes it sound like a superhero. It’s not though, not in the conventional sense . There’s a million projectors. One on each business team in the country. Just like you have an opener and a closer and a numbers and figures guy for every sales pitch, you also have a projector, though what that is isn’t quite as clear.
hi mom how are you. send me an email later today please and thanks :D.
The projector in the classroom was bugging me so much that I kicked it over and accidentaly broke it. oops! #sorrynotsorry #IAMTOOCOOLFORTHISISH Branna Smith is so annoying…jk(she’s standing behind me as I write this)
It had gotten ridiculous. People were organising a hunt where they would use lights, spotlights, projectors, any light source they could find to illuminate the dark zone and see if they could find the “monster”. The committee was livid, as it was a waste of energy that they could scarcely afford, and there was no way it would ever conclusively prove the existence or otherwise of any life form in the dark zone. Eventually, they banned the illumination of the dark zone in any way, for any reason; ostensibly to avoid wasting energy, but mainly to get people to concentrate their efforts on the tasks that would ensure their survival.
I am the projector. The projector of life. The projector of love. The projector of kindness. I wish to project my positivity onto others so they can become projectors themselves. Project what you wish to receive. Project what you feel in your heart.
the projector’s low hum was the only sound besides the teacher’s calm speech. from her vantage spot right next to it, she could feel a small bubble of warmth emanating from the projector. projectors were a tool in this classroom that was much used, and as it perched on the cart she redirected her eyes to the front of the classroom, where their current topic of study was being projected. it was something or other about cells – she hadn’t been listening.
movies, televbisions, miss mac, miss muir, homework. assignments, orals, i dont knwo what is going on why am i doing this… what is happeneing
blah
blah
word
word word word word
word
word
word
word
word
word
word
wor
dw
ro
wojfd
onmdkn
Projector like a screen in your 7th grade class and you’re elated by you don’t have to listen to her talk to dark. And there’s darnkness and coolness and a place where you can dream and let your mind wander and I’m walking through space and there is no time and red burnt clouds are floating
we watched a black and white movie on the projector. I love my new projector
the pink projector is on the trampoline
He turned the projector on. He worked. he turned the projector off. He went home.
movie theatre, popcorn, fun, light, technology,
I walked in and it was up there on the projector and the rest of the department were sat staring at the picture. It was meant to be a private moment and the picture was something we swore we’d never share. She obviously didn’t take that promise very seriously.
I turned out of the room and walked away, keeping on walking until I’d left for good.
The projector took up the whole wall, the flickering lights left space for nothing else and it was all lies. It left no space for doubt, and why would they? The lies were so big, the truth would be unguessable unless you already knew it.
The projector on the wall took up all the space it could, it left no space for anything else – no imagination, and no truth. The lights flickering above my eyes were portraying nothing but lies, lies that everyone else believed. They were so big, there wasn’t enough space for anything else unless you knew the truth.
There is a project in the language lab at work. I think it hates me, based upon the atrocious sounds and squeals that it makes when I attempt to turn it on. When I stand in front of it, and eerily familiar shadow appears. I don’t like this shadow, and I’m not entirely sure why.
a projector is often used in classrooms to display information in a visual copasity. a projector is often used in the home to show off holidays, before facebook was invented.
A window to Worlds
Never before looked Upon
But long Imagined
All I remember thinking was how much I hate my class. The professer is always so boring. He was rambling on about dinomials and the quadradic formulas when he flipped on the projector. A loud bang and a flash sent me flying back in my chair. When I came to I was the only one who was still breathing.
She was young. She stood beside it. It stared at her furiously. It was left for her. The projector lit up the room with a white light. All she had to do was press play. But she couldn’t and she wouldn’t.
Projector. I don’t even know what to say about this word. Mind blank right? Projectors were used in my school for watching teachers take notes. They were mainly used in math class. I really fucking hate math class. I’m not good at it at all. Projecting what my future will look like in a year? I project that I will be living here still with Nick. Hopefully I’ll be on my way to my esthetician license.
We have a white projector in our class to teach us math, the projector projects the work up on the wall to help us learn our objectives. Sometimes the teacher uses blue marker and other days she uses green or purple. I like when she usus the purple marker because it has more color and makes me relax,
The quiet room was suddenly filled with gasps of awe and astonishment as the teens saw the footage on the projector of the tragedy that had occurred many years prior, leaving them only with wistful and sorrowful thoughts.
The projector lay on her desk with a display of a poem on the board. It was written in purple on one of those old plasticy page things, that lets the light shine through so a whole room of students can see. It was a math class so no one understood what a poem about nature had to do with numbers that already don’t make any sense. She moved too fast for a room of half asleep, worked to the bone, horny kids and she never even stopped to ask if anyone had questions. And yet, after reading the words, the violet ink smeared in the most beautiful of ways as she cleaned the page, and the class began to sit up straighter, with more attention in their eyes. What was going to happen today they all wondered.
once a projector screen is lit the room falls into deep silence everyone’s fixed forward behind shades. for a few seconds nothing but
The projector didn’t seem to do much. It just sat there. What was it used for? No one really knew. It was broken, after all. The broken piece of equipment in the classroom that no one used. Did it overheat? No one actually wanted to know. Why did they keep it? Well, to put it simply, the school board was cheap. But that was the way of life at this school. This school of projectors.
I like to see an idea on projector. Projector illuminates one wall and everything else is in darkness. It helps you to focus on idea which is being projected. Somehow it forces me to shut down all the wandering thoughts in my mind and focus only on idea which is being projected.
Because we all have choice in the classroom, the projector tends to be something to allow for further expansion. One can easily relate to others and visually see graphics that may apply to their own learning.
“Damn it.” Clara bit her lip and forced herself to face the class.
“I guess the, uh, projector’s not working,” she said with a strained grin. “So I guess I’ll just have to… to…”
The knot in her stomach tightened. Oh God, as if she wasn’t nervous enough about this presentation. She dug her nails into her palms and tried to focus.
“I can do this,” she said, more to herself than her peers.
Its a simple useful tool that helps me with my art.
It projects what i want and i dont have to waste my time drawing things perfectly.
Its algo is bad cuz makes me lazy. :P
The projector, while at first glance was pitch black, was somehow emitting a black light itself. The light was blinding it the way that it feigned darkness. It was approaching me. It reached the air directly in front of my face, and suddenly, it became impossible to breathe.
I walked into class, a typical weekday routine. Except, no one was in the classroom yet. It was unlocked, but all of the lights were off. The only source of light came from the projector. It showed static, a deafening static. Suddenly, a black figure appeared on the screen, growing larger and larger and appearing to be approaching closer and closer to me.
The projector illuminates one wall of the room, surrounded by gloom and disparity in the form of effervescent shadow. The darkness that envelopes the existence of this sheltered alcove of thought is kept in check by the luminosity of the expression of ideas.
I want a projector for my slideshow business. I heard that people rent them, but I want one so that people can pay me to sit and show the wonderful slideshow that I made for them – if they don’t have a projector themselves. quality is my aim above all.
A device which displays the ideas of an individual to the masses, thus effectively communicating and strengthening interpersonal relationships. As such, this is a medium of ideas, creating strings of interconnected minds and consciousnesses. By displaying ideas in light, it illuminates thought.
They pulled down the projector and it all came to me at once. I fell to my knees and cried so many tears. I struggle to lift myself up and I took her hand. “Yes.” I answered. “I will marry you.”
The projector in the classroom was broken, so I couldn’t show the movie like I wanted to. Instead, I had the students bust out the smartphones and cameras and see if they could make their own movies. What started as individual tomfoolery, to my initial shock and my resulting admiration, turned into a class-wide act of cooperation. At first, students just wanted to make their own single goofy videos. Now, they wanted to create an entire group production.
It was the projector that threw the image on to the screen
The lights that blasted every inch
The eyes that sucked up the pictures
and the mind that threw around what had just been seen
He was a dirty projector, but that didn’t stop her from being a flirty pretender. She twirled in the wind as the edge of her red hem billowed and lifted, a wink and a nod, and they were off to go catch a show for two on some back-alley wall.