Carl stared at the health nuts jogging past his car as he sat in traffic. They were perfectly toned and tanned, and probably vegan. He chuckled to himself. Healthy or not, the smog of L.A. was slowly killing all of them.
She sat on top of the building, eyes wandering over the gray deathly pollution. Her eyes teared up, an allergic reaction, she thought, that had nothing to do with emotions and rather wrecked her attempt at placidity. She thought about her lover and his new job.
The smog was thick, thick enough to cut. Breathing it in hurt. My lungs felt dead. But I kept going. Kept going until all of me felt dead. Dead in this car. Dead in this garage.
The smog had filled the air. Almost all of China was filled with the smog, a deadly smoke that had killed 14% of the population. I am Cheyene, daughter of Emperor Zhong. Zhong had tried relocating the country, but he had reconsidered the idea. It would take a year to get everybody out, and by then probably another half of the population would be gone. Zhong estimated that if nothing was done to help the people of China, there would be no China in 10 years. But that was a decade away. Maybe something would change? Or maybe not…
The burglar’s feet lightly tap down the marble stairs. Her curls bounced up and down with every movement and bruited against her face. She noticed none of this as she attempted to get away from the greedy dragon of the Lonely Mountain.
A deep, musky smog surrounded the castle, fortuitous for their escape. The fact that it was caused by the entire village being burned by the rebels dampened their spirits as they made way towards the woods on foot. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs, and nowhere to go. This would be the start of a very different life for them.
it was no surprise when i stepped from my building that i felt the urge to cover my nose with the front of my shirt. the heavy smog in the air was almost too much for my lungs, despite being completely smoke-free and healthy my entire life. it was just what the world fell too.
the air was a disgusting black, filling her lung like humidity and making the words stick to her throat. this was it, perhaps. the end of it all. the garage door was shut and the room was black, but she could see a light in the far off distance.
The smog covered the land as far as the eye could see, obstructing the view of the castle. Jeremy stood still, admiring the view as he trembled imperceptibly in place. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, hoping Vaughan was still somewhere trailing behind. A small gulp sounded in his place. “As sure as I’ll ever be.”
Makes me think of home. Funny how you don’t notice it when you’re inside “the bubble”. It looks like blue skies and sunny days until you go for a drive outside of the city. Then you see the brown layer separating the city from the sky. I never thought of it as a tourist attraction, but apparently it’s a thing that out of towners want to see.
It clung to the tops of the buildings, heavy and thick, settling in like a blanket over the city. It was hard to breathe. We were suffocating ourselves with our own filth. How appropriate.
I looked out as they turned, shifted, transformed and moved. I watched as they worked together in perfect unison, and create magical things that we could never do ourselves. As I looked through the chain of actions and at the magical ending, I decided for once I’d keep looking. I looked up, until eventually I saw the real end of all of it – as the smog raised in the air polluting our sky one minute at a time.
When you live in Los Angeles, you get used to the smog. For me, the closest thing to a skyline was when I could spot the faint outline of a nearby hill close to the horizon outside my window. I had almost forgotten about stars entirely until my friend Eli took me on a camping trip. I was amazed to see three shooting stars when I thought it was lucky to find one. I hoped that all my wishes came true – one of them was to leave California.
Smog is a very big problem in large cities. One place it may be especially relevant would be LA in california. The dense smog highly reduces the livibility pull. Many people avoid the city for this very reason.
Look down
Peek through smog
Let your eyes search
For something that isn’t there
Pick out each particle of dust
Choose one; follow it
Turn it around in your mind
Watch how the light avoids it
See how it filters around, just grazing the surface
Now let it go, you are holding it here
You must realize that sometimes
You can be a prison
Innocent, I know, but not guiltless
Let it go now; give it back its fluidity of movement
Let it return to obscurity
Beneath the smog
In the damp world below
And try not to follow
I paddled across the smog above the hot chocolates sea. Steam puffed into my hair and the thick smell of melted chocolate enticed from all around me.
“Don’t do it” – i kept telling myself, “Don’t you jump in.”
She waved a hand in front of her face, but the dense fog remained where it hung. Like curtains–swampy, sulfurous, heavy. Shapes swam in the distance. Animals? Humans? Cars? Sounds too were muffled in the fog.
The smog was thick and heavy, shrouding the city in a dark grey blanket. Lights occasionally flickered from underneath the layer of smoke, lights from the fires and explosions devastating the world. There was nothing to do about them, anymore.
I used to like inhaling because it feels fresh. But now that I live in the city, full of smog and pollution, I hate it. Inhaling is hard, my lungs fill up and I choke.
The streets of San Francisco were a mess. Broken glass and litter covered the sidewalks as people walked in almost a haze with masks over their faces. Some of them were covered in blood, others were weeping as constables pushed them back forcibly with clubs. I could barely see what with all the smog polluting the air. I let out a deep cough and tightened my grip on José’s forearm as we ran. “How much further?”
“A few more miles.” He gripped me tighter as we brushed past more and more people. Suddenly tried to grab me by my ponytail, and I screamed. José released me for one second in order to bat the man away. Breathing heavily I kept running, not looking back and praying to God that he was okay.
A full minute passed before he came up behind me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, baby.” He broke the contact abruptly and grabbed my hand again. “Vámonos, Carla. We have to hurry.”
She ran through the streets. Cars everywhere, the smog in her lungs but she didn’t dare to stop and cough it out, she had to keep running. Her legs hurt, her eyes burned but she couldn’t stop.
the smog rose and fell as my chest does when i fill it up like at the gas station, which is where we are now. he peeks at me with his head still straight ahead; how the hell does he do it so well?
the smog rose and fell like my chest does when i fill it up. the smog is damp and deep and dark and i peer through it, squinting, trying to make out the figure lurking behind it. is t
Ugh, the air is just thick. I don’t know how you BREATHE here. “Honestly I don’t know either. Probably because I spend so much time inside with canned air. No one in LA goes outside except to take, like, sunset pictures for insagram.” Ha, I suppose that’s about right. Now what is it exactly that you do? “Yo, I told you. I just carry around the lighting equipment, set it up, take it down, and make sure nobody fucks it up. “And then you make lattes on the weekend?” Yup, lattes by morning, fucking cosmos by night.
Smog. Smog is consider a form of smoke and fog, right? Or at least that what the word gives off to me.
When I think of smog it makes my mind wander off to smug. For instance if I was walking through smog I would have a smug look on my face.
i have no idea waht smog means so just right somethigrandom
songs
must
overcome
goats
lololololololol
smog seems like an unusual word but i like it
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
apples
smog
smog
even more smog
smog
yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
i have no idea waht smog means so just right somethigrandom
songs
must
overcome
goats
lololololololol
smog seems like an unusual word but i like it
smog
smog
smog
There’s a thick rich continuation across the sky, it’s omnipresent here in Vancouver. I live high up, I live on the 16th floor, surrounded by windows and glass, some days it’s all I see. I can barely make out the construction cranes moving and shifting their way through it in the distance. Oh wait you said smog. Dear me. The fog is clean, the fog I can handle. Smog… try Chinese cities I suppose.
Carl stared at the health nuts jogging past his car as he sat in traffic. They were perfectly toned and tanned, and probably vegan. He chuckled to himself. Healthy or not, the smog of L.A. was slowly killing all of them.
Smog se linul po temných zákoutích ulice. Nikdo se před ním nemohl skrýt a nikdo mu neunikl. Požral vše, co mu přišlo do cesty.
She sat on top of the building, eyes wandering over the gray deathly pollution. Her eyes teared up, an allergic reaction, she thought, that had nothing to do with emotions and rather wrecked her attempt at placidity. She thought about her lover and his new job.
The smog was thick, thick enough to cut. Breathing it in hurt. My lungs felt dead. But I kept going. Kept going until all of me felt dead. Dead in this car. Dead in this garage.
i have recently learned what smog means. It means polluiton. that is a very interesting word.
The smog had filled the air. Almost all of China was filled with the smog, a deadly smoke that had killed 14% of the population. I am Cheyene, daughter of Emperor Zhong. Zhong had tried relocating the country, but he had reconsidered the idea. It would take a year to get everybody out, and by then probably another half of the population would be gone. Zhong estimated that if nothing was done to help the people of China, there would be no China in 10 years. But that was a decade away. Maybe something would change? Or maybe not…
jhgjhgjk
ömnömn
khkjhl.khl.kjl
The burglar’s feet lightly tap down the marble stairs. Her curls bounced up and down with every movement and bruited against her face. She noticed none of this as she attempted to get away from the greedy dragon of the Lonely Mountain.
A deep, musky smog surrounded the castle, fortuitous for their escape. The fact that it was caused by the entire village being burned by the rebels dampened their spirits as they made way towards the woods on foot. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs, and nowhere to go. This would be the start of a very different life for them.
just testing
I want to see how this works
I love being a teacher
hello world
it was no surprise when i stepped from my building that i felt the urge to cover my nose with the front of my shirt. the heavy smog in the air was almost too much for my lungs, despite being completely smoke-free and healthy my entire life. it was just what the world fell too.
I actually thought of both Smaug from The Hobbit and smog like in the air. They’re both bad, and they both can be harmful.
the air was a disgusting black, filling her lung like humidity and making the words stick to her throat. this was it, perhaps. the end of it all. the garage door was shut and the room was black, but she could see a light in the far off distance.
We were nearing the river and i could see large amount of smog hanging in the air.
The smog covered the land as far as the eye could see, obstructing the view of the castle. Jeremy stood still, admiring the view as he trembled imperceptibly in place. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, hoping Vaughan was still somewhere trailing behind. A small gulp sounded in his place. “As sure as I’ll ever be.”
Makes me think of home. Funny how you don’t notice it when you’re inside “the bubble”. It looks like blue skies and sunny days until you go for a drive outside of the city. Then you see the brown layer separating the city from the sky. I never thought of it as a tourist attraction, but apparently it’s a thing that out of towners want to see.
It clung to the tops of the buildings, heavy and thick, settling in like a blanket over the city. It was hard to breathe. We were suffocating ourselves with our own filth. How appropriate.
i hate the city i live in. it doesn’t have smog. smog makes me feel alive
I looked out as they turned, shifted, transformed and moved. I watched as they worked together in perfect unison, and create magical things that we could never do ourselves. As I looked through the chain of actions and at the magical ending, I decided for once I’d keep looking. I looked up, until eventually I saw the real end of all of it – as the smog raised in the air polluting our sky one minute at a time.
He sings and sings.
My mind
is happy.
Tall
God
Dream
Stay here in my arms.
When you live in Los Angeles, you get used to the smog. For me, the closest thing to a skyline was when I could spot the faint outline of a nearby hill close to the horizon outside my window. I had almost forgotten about stars entirely until my friend Eli took me on a camping trip. I was amazed to see three shooting stars when I thought it was lucky to find one. I hoped that all my wishes came true – one of them was to leave California.
smoke and dew in the air
Smog is a very big problem in large cities. One place it may be especially relevant would be LA in california. The dense smog highly reduces the livibility pull. Many people avoid the city for this very reason.
Look down
Peek through smog
Let your eyes search
For something that isn’t there
Pick out each particle of dust
Choose one; follow it
Turn it around in your mind
Watch how the light avoids it
See how it filters around, just grazing the surface
Now let it go, you are holding it here
You must realize that sometimes
You can be a prison
Innocent, I know, but not guiltless
Let it go now; give it back its fluidity of movement
Let it return to obscurity
Beneath the smog
In the damp world below
And try not to follow
I paddled across the smog above the hot chocolates sea. Steam puffed into my hair and the thick smell of melted chocolate enticed from all around me.
“Don’t do it” – i kept telling myself, “Don’t you jump in.”
She waved a hand in front of her face, but the dense fog remained where it hung. Like curtains–swampy, sulfurous, heavy. Shapes swam in the distance. Animals? Humans? Cars? Sounds too were muffled in the fog.
go heavy,
hang there– impatient
dear
dear pollution
of mine.
Pollution – it is everywhere.
The smog was thick and heavy, shrouding the city in a dark grey blanket. Lights occasionally flickered from underneath the layer of smoke, lights from the fires and explosions devastating the world. There was nothing to do about them, anymore.
I used to like inhaling because it feels fresh. But now that I live in the city, full of smog and pollution, I hate it. Inhaling is hard, my lungs fill up and I choke.
The streets of San Francisco were a mess. Broken glass and litter covered the sidewalks as people walked in almost a haze with masks over their faces. Some of them were covered in blood, others were weeping as constables pushed them back forcibly with clubs. I could barely see what with all the smog polluting the air. I let out a deep cough and tightened my grip on José’s forearm as we ran. “How much further?”
“A few more miles.” He gripped me tighter as we brushed past more and more people. Suddenly tried to grab me by my ponytail, and I screamed. José released me for one second in order to bat the man away. Breathing heavily I kept running, not looking back and praying to God that he was okay.
A full minute passed before he came up behind me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, baby.” He broke the contact abruptly and grabbed my hand again. “Vámonos, Carla. We have to hurry.”
She ran through the streets. Cars everywhere, the smog in her lungs but she didn’t dare to stop and cough it out, she had to keep running. Her legs hurt, her eyes burned but she couldn’t stop.
the smog rose and fell as my chest does when i fill it up like at the gas station, which is where we are now. he peeks at me with his head still straight ahead; how the hell does he do it so well?
the smog rose and fell like my chest does when i fill it up. the smog is damp and deep and dark and i peer through it, squinting, trying to make out the figure lurking behind it. is t
The smog is white and darken the way. I can’t see the road where I’m driving, it scares me a bit.
Ugh, the air is just thick. I don’t know how you BREATHE here. “Honestly I don’t know either. Probably because I spend so much time inside with canned air. No one in LA goes outside except to take, like, sunset pictures for insagram.” Ha, I suppose that’s about right. Now what is it exactly that you do? “Yo, I told you. I just carry around the lighting equipment, set it up, take it down, and make sure nobody fucks it up. “And then you make lattes on the weekend?” Yup, lattes by morning, fucking cosmos by night.
Smog. Smog is consider a form of smoke and fog, right? Or at least that what the word gives off to me.
When I think of smog it makes my mind wander off to smug. For instance if I was walking through smog I would have a smug look on my face.
i have no idea waht smog means so just right somethigrandom
songs
must
overcome
goats
lololololololol
smog seems like an unusual word but i like it
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
smog
apples
smog
smog
even more smog
smog
yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
i have no idea waht smog means so just right somethigrandom
songs
must
overcome
goats
lololololololol
smog seems like an unusual word but i like it
smog
smog
smog
There’s a thick rich continuation across the sky, it’s omnipresent here in Vancouver. I live high up, I live on the 16th floor, surrounded by windows and glass, some days it’s all I see. I can barely make out the construction cranes moving and shifting their way through it in the distance. Oh wait you said smog. Dear me. The fog is clean, the fog I can handle. Smog… try Chinese cities I suppose.