Seconds are a unit of time. They are pretty darn short but are not by any means the shortest increment of time. There are 3600 seconds in an hour; knowing this fact can come in handy when one is trying to pass time. Generally when people say “Give me a second” they are lying.
The seconds are ticking by. Time’s moving so fast I can barely see where we’re going. But I guess that doesn’t matter, as long as we go together. The handles on the clock are ticking faster now. I can feel them closing in.
It takes nearly thirty seconds to come up with something to write in the first place! I find it fustrating that my creativity has lost me over the years. I wish I could claim it again. I wih I could type as fast as the words pour into my head, but my 60 seconds are up.
Within seconds I had gotten up with the monster, but once I got there my mind could only remember the horrors he had done. The gun froze on my hand. I stood with my finger on the tigger unable to pull.
There are not enough seconds in the day. Yet there are too many… I am already ready to hit the sheets. I love seconds of pie. I love seconds of gumbo and stew.
I looked at the clock. Seconds were passing like minutes, minutes like hours. My leg hurt worse than anything I had felt before and time was torturing me, forcing me to experience it twice as long as I should have, thrice, four times, even. I felt dizzy and tried to remind myself that it could’ve been worse, that I was alive at least.
He had mere seconds to think of something to write. And the only damn thing he could think of was to write about the fact he couldn’t think of anything at all. The bar continued to move across the bottom of the screen. Times up.
sixty? What about the boy here asking for his bottle? I cannot get anything done ever again. Or if I do it turns out to be some kind of exercise instead of something real, something lasting. Oh well — no permanence anyhow. What the hell? It gave me another sixty seconds. I have ducked the exercise. Now if only that were possible in real life. Boy still asking for his bottle by my side here.
Seconds fly too fast to count. Why do we even have them? Just so we can complete our minutes? Just so we can fill our hours? So we can find meaning? What meaning is found in a second. An instant. None that I can see. No meaning for any time.
seconds are ticking by and i am spending everyones shared time on a couch with my mother watching words appear and letters dissapear as i type and edit an entry that i, and the world, will forget about in, sadly, another few seconds.
I think about seconds. How those mere seconds can had up to so much time. What can you do in a second. Blink? Rub your nose. There are lots of things that you can do.
the seconds minutes hours go to the almighty dollar..
as the seconds turn to minutes..and the minutes turn to hours…
both are lines from songs
what is time?
time is money…
right? or wrong…
time is not REAL.
-im gonna keep going because i only had 60 seconds to write about seconds.
anything can happen at any matter of time…bt keep in mind that time is only a way of measuring the present, past, and future…time isnt real , more of an existing experience, we are EXISTING, living, breathing….what if “time” was measured by our breath? what would time be then? what would seconds mean then?
the seconds minutes hours go to the almighty dollar..
as the seconds turn to minutes..and the minutes turn to hours…
both are lines from songs
what is time?
time is money…
right? or wrong…
time is not REAL.
-im gonna keep going because i only had 60 seconds to write about seconds.
anything can happen at any matter of time…bt keep in mind that time is only a way of measuring the present, past, and future…time isnt real , more of an existing experience, we are EXISTING
Life goes by in seconds. You can’t think or count, because then they will just be wasted. Even thought I like to think of my life in “events” it is really made up of these tiny particles of time. I can’t imagine sitting at the clock, staring, waiting for time to pass.
seconds comprise every day. each second is different and will come to you with different feelings, even if only slightly different from the subsequent seconds. use your seconds wisely… on second thought dont think about how you use your seconds, just use them.
ticking away on a clock on a wall. the stiff rancid smelling couch. the cold tile and old magazines. I hear the hustle and bustle in the hall and I know that you will never accompany those sounds again. Waiting. Waiting for the doctor to arrive.
the seconds are passing slowly. now faster. sooner or later, seconds cease existing. other times, all there seems to be is seconds, and every single one of them lasts forever. seconds seconds seconds. please, no more.
Seconds. They’re a measurement of time. I’m not quite sure what time is exactly, or how we emasure it. It seems absurd to me that I could theoretically travel to Australia, or even the moon, but I can’t revisit the past. I hated the past. I’m not sure what counts as “the past” though. I didn’t like it though, at least not the parts that I can remember. Do we travel to the future, or does it forever remain the present. I don’t want my present or my future to become the past. I hate my past.
already wrote about this before i created my user thing…is there really just one a day? i could definitely spend a million seconds per day doing this just for fun. oh internet…
What if we had seconds to live?
Like the SUN was gonna explode and we knew that we were going to die in x amount of time.
The seconds add to minutes, which add to hours, which go into days…dreaded days.
what would you do if you had seconds to live?
only got 4 minutes to save the world. wait 60 seconds…seconds? oh like dessert. i guess i was thinking of applebees or something but i just made these cherry cookies that are pretty good.
there are sixty of them in a minute. Sometimes they go by quickly. Sometimes they go by painfully slowly. The most important moments of your life can take place in just a few of these…
Seconds tick by, turning to minutes, warping to hours and still I never tire of her at my side. The warmth of her skin on mine, the smell of her shampoo as we snuggle and the beautiful sweet nothings we whisper. The seconds stop as she looks into my eyes and whispers ‘I Love You.’ And nothing could be more important than those seconds, nothing in the world could be more important than her.
There are not enough seconds in the minute, enough minutes in the day, or enough days in the year. Time passes far quickly for me to absorb all that I wish to absorb out of each moment and each experience with each of my children. Year 18 comes far too quickly.
The reason seconds is the word for me is well, the word was chosen randomly, and I guess for some reason I got the word ‘seconds’. Im not really sure if there is any parallel between anything here, but its getting pretty late and Im counting down seconds to go to sleep. Cyah now.
She reread her last entry and winced. “The smallest measure of time.” Wrong. That would be the millisecond, she realized… unless, of course, there was something after that. She resolved to look it up just to be sure.
*Why am I bothering with this?* she thought. Chances are no one would notice/had noticed/cared.
She stared down the little purple circle.
*Oh, what the hell.*
[click.]
Your fascinating gaze:
I can’t break that stare.
The glitter in your eyes –
the type that you loathe in reality
that gets stuck on every inch and
once it’s there you can’t wash it off.
You’re saying “need me.”
Without.
These precious seconds spent, and
lost in this brief moment,
I’m diving into that reflecting surface.
Hoping, wanting, begging to get lost
inside you.
The seconds ticked by, and I couldn’t have counted them even as they went. I was too wrapped up in his eyes, the scent of his cologne, the feel of his hand on my back. In those last seconds, nothing was more important than his presence at my side. And then I knew, in those seconds. I loved him.
the seconds flew fast.. i never realised that i did not entirely live in the moment.. and before i knew.. it was too late.. i never told her.. i never knew her.. i thought she knew but she dint.. i never got a second chance.
seconds in the day are like little reminders that ill never have enought time to get anything done or to amount to anything. it’s the thing that brings me down the most
only sixty seconds to write about “seconds” ironic? It takes seconds to make a judgement. Seconds to fall in love, seconds to fall out, seconds to die. Maybe sometimes longer. Of course. Seconds could also mean, could I have seconds please?
3 seconds, just about time to see what reactions is going to happend. Maybe it will be a chermical completly new, maybe it will be a new life form. Who knows?
tick away, far to many for us to contain. they’re precious, but perhaps there are times when we should let them go. Much can be achieved in just seconds, as so much can be lost. Seconds are great, we should make more of them..
sixty seconds in one minute. i cant count how many there are in one day more so in a week. i’m giving sixty seconds to write about this word and now my head is hurting and i cant really think of anything else to write about.
I only have seconds to get seconds, joy pain love, seconds, I’ll have more, thank you, I only have a second to grab them. Give me more. I’m out the door.
I hate how there are only sixty seconds in one minute. Sixty seconds to make things worth while in one minute. Sixty minutes in an hour. Twenty four hours in a day. You have to make them all count, ’cause single second can change an entire day. Do what you can, the best you can do it.
Seconds are a unit of time. They are pretty darn short but are not by any means the shortest increment of time. There are 3600 seconds in an hour; knowing this fact can come in handy when one is trying to pass time. Generally when people say “Give me a second” they are lying.
Sixty in a minute.
It only takes a few to change your life.
They feel like hours sometimes. Especially when all the eyes are on you.
I don’t have enough to write something good here.
The seconds are ticking by. Time’s moving so fast I can barely see where we’re going. But I guess that doesn’t matter, as long as we go together. The handles on the clock are ticking faster now. I can feel them closing in.
It takes nearly thirty seconds to come up with something to write in the first place! I find it fustrating that my creativity has lost me over the years. I wish I could claim it again. I wih I could type as fast as the words pour into my head, but my 60 seconds are up.
FAST TOO FAST TO KEEP TRACK OF 60 IN A MINUTE 30 TO COOK LOTS IN AN HOUR TOO FEW IN A HALF A MINUTE NOT ENOUGH TO FINNIIIIIIIIIIISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Within seconds I had gotten up with the monster, but once I got there my mind could only remember the horrors he had done. The gun froze on my hand. I stood with my finger on the tigger unable to pull.
Sometimes, you don’t cross my mind for seconds. If I’m lucky, sometimes minutes pass by. It’s unfortunate.
There are not enough seconds in the day. Yet there are too many… I am already ready to hit the sheets. I love seconds of pie. I love seconds of gumbo and stew.
I looked at the clock. Seconds were passing like minutes, minutes like hours. My leg hurt worse than anything I had felt before and time was torturing me, forcing me to experience it twice as long as I should have, thrice, four times, even. I felt dizzy and tried to remind myself that it could’ve been worse, that I was alive at least.
He had mere seconds to think of something to write. And the only damn thing he could think of was to write about the fact he couldn’t think of anything at all. The bar continued to move across the bottom of the screen. Times up.
sixty? What about the boy here asking for his bottle? I cannot get anything done ever again. Or if I do it turns out to be some kind of exercise instead of something real, something lasting. Oh well — no permanence anyhow. What the hell? It gave me another sixty seconds. I have ducked the exercise. Now if only that were possible in real life. Boy still asking for his bottle by my side here.
Seconds fly too fast to count. Why do we even have them? Just so we can complete our minutes? Just so we can fill our hours? So we can find meaning? What meaning is found in a second. An instant. None that I can see. No meaning for any time.
seconds are ticking by and i am spending everyones shared time on a couch with my mother watching words appear and letters dissapear as i type and edit an entry that i, and the world, will forget about in, sadly, another few seconds.
I think about seconds. How those mere seconds can had up to so much time. What can you do in a second. Blink? Rub your nose. There are lots of things that you can do.
the seconds minutes hours go to the almighty dollar..
as the seconds turn to minutes..and the minutes turn to hours…
both are lines from songs
what is time?
time is money…
right? or wrong…
time is not REAL.
-im gonna keep going because i only had 60 seconds to write about seconds.
anything can happen at any matter of time…bt keep in mind that time is only a way of measuring the present, past, and future…time isnt real , more of an existing experience, we are EXISTING, living, breathing….what if “time” was measured by our breath? what would time be then? what would seconds mean then?
the seconds minutes hours go to the almighty dollar..
as the seconds turn to minutes..and the minutes turn to hours…
both are lines from songs
what is time?
time is money…
right? or wrong…
time is not REAL.
-im gonna keep going because i only had 60 seconds to write about seconds.
anything can happen at any matter of time…bt keep in mind that time is only a way of measuring the present, past, and future…time isnt real , more of an existing experience, we are EXISTING
Life goes by in seconds. You can’t think or count, because then they will just be wasted. Even thought I like to think of my life in “events” it is really made up of these tiny particles of time. I can’t imagine sitting at the clock, staring, waiting for time to pass.
seconds comprise every day. each second is different and will come to you with different feelings, even if only slightly different from the subsequent seconds. use your seconds wisely… on second thought dont think about how you use your seconds, just use them.
ticking away on a clock on a wall. the stiff rancid smelling couch. the cold tile and old magazines. I hear the hustle and bustle in the hall and I know that you will never accompany those sounds again. Waiting. Waiting for the doctor to arrive.
the seconds are passing slowly. now faster. sooner or later, seconds cease existing. other times, all there seems to be is seconds, and every single one of them lasts forever. seconds seconds seconds. please, no more.
Seconds. They’re a measurement of time. I’m not quite sure what time is exactly, or how we emasure it. It seems absurd to me that I could theoretically travel to Australia, or even the moon, but I can’t revisit the past. I hated the past. I’m not sure what counts as “the past” though. I didn’t like it though, at least not the parts that I can remember. Do we travel to the future, or does it forever remain the present. I don’t want my present or my future to become the past. I hate my past.
already wrote about this before i created my user thing…is there really just one a day? i could definitely spend a million seconds per day doing this just for fun. oh internet…
What if we had seconds to live?
Like the SUN was gonna explode and we knew that we were going to die in x amount of time.
The seconds add to minutes, which add to hours, which go into days…dreaded days.
what would you do if you had seconds to live?
only got 4 minutes to save the world. wait 60 seconds…seconds? oh like dessert. i guess i was thinking of applebees or something but i just made these cherry cookies that are pretty good.
there are sixty of them in a minute. Sometimes they go by quickly. Sometimes they go by painfully slowly. The most important moments of your life can take place in just a few of these…
Seconds tick by, turning to minutes, warping to hours and still I never tire of her at my side. The warmth of her skin on mine, the smell of her shampoo as we snuggle and the beautiful sweet nothings we whisper. The seconds stop as she looks into my eyes and whispers ‘I Love You.’ And nothing could be more important than those seconds, nothing in the world could be more important than her.
There are not enough seconds in the minute, enough minutes in the day, or enough days in the year. Time passes far quickly for me to absorb all that I wish to absorb out of each moment and each experience with each of my children. Year 18 comes far too quickly.
The reason seconds is the word for me is well, the word was chosen randomly, and I guess for some reason I got the word ‘seconds’. Im not really sure if there is any parallel between anything here, but its getting pretty late and Im counting down seconds to go to sleep. Cyah now.
She reread her last entry and winced. “The smallest measure of time.” Wrong. That would be the millisecond, she realized… unless, of course, there was something after that. She resolved to look it up just to be sure.
*Why am I bothering with this?* she thought. Chances are no one would notice/had noticed/cared.
She stared down the little purple circle.
*Oh, what the hell.*
[click.]
Your fascinating gaze:
I can’t break that stare.
The glitter in your eyes –
the type that you loathe in reality
that gets stuck on every inch and
once it’s there you can’t wash it off.
You’re saying “need me.”
Without.
These precious seconds spent, and
lost in this brief moment,
I’m diving into that reflecting surface.
Hoping, wanting, begging to get lost
inside you.
The seconds ticked by, and I couldn’t have counted them even as they went. I was too wrapped up in his eyes, the scent of his cologne, the feel of his hand on my back. In those last seconds, nothing was more important than his presence at my side. And then I knew, in those seconds. I loved him.
the seconds flew fast.. i never realised that i did not entirely live in the moment.. and before i knew.. it was too late.. i never told her.. i never knew her.. i thought she knew but she dint.. i never got a second chance.
seconds in the day are like little reminders that ill never have enought time to get anything done or to amount to anything. it’s the thing that brings me down the most
seriouls
only sixty seconds to write about “seconds” ironic? It takes seconds to make a judgement. Seconds to fall in love, seconds to fall out, seconds to die. Maybe sometimes longer. Of course. Seconds could also mean, could I have seconds please?
3 seconds, just about time to see what reactions is going to happend. Maybe it will be a chermical completly new, maybe it will be a new life form. Who knows?
tick away, far to many for us to contain. they’re precious, but perhaps there are times when we should let them go. Much can be achieved in just seconds, as so much can be lost. Seconds are great, we should make more of them..
sixty seconds in one minute. i cant count how many there are in one day more so in a week. i’m giving sixty seconds to write about this word and now my head is hurting and i cant really think of anything else to write about.
I only have seconds to get seconds, joy pain love, seconds, I’ll have more, thank you, I only have a second to grab them. Give me more. I’m out the door.
I hate how there are only sixty seconds in one minute. Sixty seconds to make things worth while in one minute. Sixty minutes in an hour. Twenty four hours in a day. You have to make them all count, ’cause single second can change an entire day. Do what you can, the best you can do it.
Secondssssssssssss