From Alastors point of view, his whole world had stopped, though he was sure that the people around him were continuing as though he hadn’t moved at all. Then again he was moving faster than the speed of light so it was only natural that they wouldn’t spot him. He bolted into the safe before it could close and leaned against the wall breathing deeply. Halfway finished his job now.
It’s a nice view outside. It is drizzling… I see the tiny drops of rain on the window. Sort of cloudy but I feel good about it. I love the weather. It’s a nice view, just looking at the park across where I am.
if there is one thing that most commonly leads me to vicissitude and trouble, it would be giving my point of view. i am too opinionated to have friends.
Everything is seen from a different point of view. Just look at how we view things today versus how we used to see them. So many things have changed, and you never know what to expect anymore, but that’s okay… Changing views is kinda good.
The view changes everything. Sometimes the climb to the top is torturous, but isn’t it worth it for the view? Sometimes a change of a perspective seems impossible, but why not try?
this window faces the sky. just straight up, through mess and clutter and disaster. it breaks through into this enormous expanse of white, an unimaginable mass of infinite. your eyes soar and race against winds, away from heartache and tears and stings of the past.
Sometimes, it all depends on who is looking. Things look one way when you view them from one person’s perspective and entirely different from another person’s. If only we could all remember that our way is not always entirely the right way or the only way. Others’ views are also valid.
i like to view things. they have nice qualities and such. they look really cool. or i just like to view them. viewing can lead to good or bad outcomes. either of which could be enjoyable or not so much. many things can be viewed. such as a pineapple.
I view the world
by the minuscule
all that everyone finds insignificant
that which is ignored
truly holds the most beauty
i view things
in repetition and rhythm, in color, in balance, in shadows and in light
i view things as others don’t
and if they do
well
then i guess i’m not so special
“Really, I don’t think you should be up there,” Angela said to her boyfriend, Skull.
“But the view up here is great!” Skull replied.
“Really, I think it’s a bad idea, and you’re starting to hurt me.”
“Hey, come on, you should join me up here; I can see over the roof of your house all the way to the Toledo skyline!”
“I can’t join you, it’s a physical impossiblity!” Angela angrily spat out, “Now get off my augmented breasts and join me down here on the porch swing!”
the view from the miranda was incredible. she gasped as a gust of wind cleansed her of any apprehensions she had about coming here. she was joined by the strong arms of her husband wrapping around her. she giggled as he nuzzled at the nape of her neck. ‘stop..’ she said playfully. she gasped again, this time in surprise as he gripped her hips violently. suddenly she was airborn. he hoisted her up and flung her like a heavy bag of garbage. she didnt scream until the realization of the cold cement below was inches from her face, in result, her scream came out short, sudden, mixing in with sqwaks of near by seagulls. he laughed at this.
I had a group of the most amazing acquaintences ever.
They’re dead and gond though.
There’s something interesting about the concept of a Christian death: we rejoice at the funeral, because it is good; they are passing to a better place, a place free of worry, hate and sadness.
I’m sure their views from heaven is better than mine here.
My view on life change on a daily basis. When I gaze out of my window, I get a nice view of the cars rushing by, and the people walking passed with their dogs. From my normal sitting spot under the oak tree at the park, I can get a good view of the kids playing in the leaves, or when I lay down, I can see the clouds transform.
multiple points of view, are what i’ve tried to acquired since i was much younger. nothing can be more dangerous than viewing something from only one perspective.
He saw a girl with issues, her tears annoyed him. She just did it for attention.
She saw someone she knew did not understand. there were hurts, deep hurts. Things that couldn’t be erased with ease.
My view is very different than others, I feel as though I am different. Like I wonder constantly about if other people think like me. I’m scared if I am so different, no one will like me. No one will ever see the real me, who I truly am. I’m frightened…
The view wasn’t clear, through the glass wall separating me from my newborn twins. Alex and Juliet, they had been born several weeks early and needed intensive care.
i looked down at the lights of the city. the busy streets looked like streams of bright light. I held Tight to Collins hand as we started down the hill.
To view this image….please do something for me. View this ad, click this link. Think about something, think of what you’re doing, how badly you want to see me today. I miss you. To view a photo of an empty frame, people crowded around a blank canvas exclaiming at it’s originality. Why?
The view is lonely from here. Deep within the recesses of my mind. Places I’ve barely explored, places left dark and unattended, because I am afraid of what’s in them. I’m afraid that once I discover who I am I’ll want to run away, but it will be to no avail, for one cannot escape one’s thoughts.
The view is beautiful from where I am now. Safe, secure, and absolutely not me.
It’s like seeing the sun for the first time. Looking past all that fog and hideous gray spray to see what you should have been looking at the entire time. For some people it’s a face. Many see God. Others see an idea, a wish. Me? I don’t see anything.
i wrote a paper about this today. the view of yourself, of life when you step back, see it in retrospect. its one of those contradicting things about our existence, though. the world seems like a bigger place, though in different ways than when i was younger. consequently, it seems smaller. there’s a reversal of things as you age, in almost everything – the good and bad. you go to college where you learn a wealth of information, of lessons, of others, of yourself – where you learn just how much you don’t know.
life is ironic, you know.
the manifestation of such words.
i wrote about being a musician. it is my love – another enigma. it is my most significant frustration, my worst pain, my biggest fear. it is also my purest joy, my utmost peace.
such is life.
The view from the weekend is sharper than it was a minute ago. Just moments lost. Do you have questions?
Just ask my saturday perspective at office hours.
I swivel and check both side mirrors; Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. Shit. I can see her in the distance, not far off, her headlights flashing and illuminating the dark road. Even with my tail light off and the tree branches obstructing her view, there was no way she doesn’t know we’re there. The rev of my motorcycle made it quite obvious where we were and that we’re on the run. She’ gaining, and we don’t have much time. Twisting the throttle as far as it can go, the engine chokes for a moment before stalling and than jolting forward at full speed. I feel Victor have a mini seizure as he wraps his arms tighter around me and screams,
“Wot the ‘ell was that? You coulda killed me! Yuh even know how to drive this piece ‘o shit?” I chuckle. His accent is even thicker when he’s terrified.
“Stop being such a pussy. If I had gone at your pace we’d be dead by now.” I can feel him sigh into the back of my neck as he rests his head on my shoulder,
“Awww fuck off Em, you know I’m afraid of motorbikes…”
“…and heights. And anything sharp. And blood. And loud noises. And scary movies or anything that goes bump in the night. Even spiders! Explain to me why you’re the chosen one, and I just get to be the punny side kick?”
“Cuz ya a girl, Em,” he scoffs, “trust me, I’d do anythin’ to switch places with yuh,” he sighs again, “but tha’s just not the way thin’s are, not since…” all of a sudden, the engine stutters, and a puff of smoke erupts from the back. The bike begins to slowly speed up.
“Why are we going faster?” Victor screams over the wind. I thrust my boot hard onto the brakes; once, twice, three times…nothing.
“Shit. Shit,” I yell, “shit, fuck!”
“Wot? Wot? EM! Answer me!” Victor yells.
“We gotta jump, Victor.”
“What? WHAT? I can’t! I won’t!”
“The engine’s going to overheat, we have to get off now!”
“Emma, tha’s is a horrid idea! D’you hear yerself right now? I won’t do it!”
“When I say jump, you jump. Ready? Three, two…”
“Em…”
“…One…”
“Emma stop this nonsense!”
“JUMP!” We hurl ourselves off the seat, grazing the gravel from the overrun curb, and landing hard in the brush. I hear a splash, and I can hear Victor moan as he rolls himself out of the mud. Ahead I hear the the bike smash into god knows what, and with a blast, the air ahead of us is cloud of hot smoke and red flames. But I don’t have time to stare very long, the headlights are getting closer, and I was beginning to be able to make out the outline of her sharp, pointed face in the windshield. Victor rolls on to his back and pants,
“Now what?”
“We run,” I say, wrenching him from the grass and launching our bodies into the woods, “and if we’re lucky she’ll think we’re dead.”
I want the world out my window,
With steel skyscrapers that diamonds cannot outshine,
Lush green willows under trees,
A ferris wheel by the hill,
Canals and boats,
Water so blue,
Sun so bright,
A life so light,
I cannot accept anything else as right.
Try to see things my view, instead of seeing everything from your high point in the sky, imagine what its like on the ground. Bound to the Earth by chains, having to watch all the others fly and laugh in the clouds, a place where you’ll never be aloud to touch.
Click click she turned the technicolor viewfinder to see a family and their dog. Then click click with her little finger the image rotated oh no what is sally doing to jimmy she is pushing him over and clawing at his face and he is screaming in horror and her eyes have turned blood red and she is foaming at the mouth she must want his brains. Oh no fisher price what has happened to you…
We have quite opposite views on things. They say that love consists not in gazing at one another but in gazing outward in the same direction. I would say that our love consists in gazing to see completely different views but holding hands to let the other know we’ll always be there to share the horizon with them.
I look out my window everyday and each day the view of the mountains is different in some way. It changes all the time by the weather and time of the day, I love it.
I viewed the letters and numbers on the board. i looked on with nervous determination as I placed both my hands on the planchet; this is dangerous alone, I’ve been told. But no one would help me. I needed answers, and I was determined to get them. So this was the only way.
I’ve been obsessed with spirits and ghosts for two years now. I can’t get them out of my head, ever since I saw that psychic on T.V. I’ve yoked myself to the idea of contacting the dead.
I woke up with a new view of life, maybe because I woke up next to you. It shouldn’t work, but it does. We work in a way no one expected. It’s not that we’re not still sick, not still sad, but together we’re stronger than we are when we’re alone.
You see things a little differently every day. And it’s hard to say if that’s you changing or if it’s your world. There’s a good chance, though, that it’s a little of both.
The amazing view of your captivating eyes, they lock me in a room where i feel safe and secure
you understand me and read my emotions even when i say nothing at all, you have been there always and never did i view you as the person that would catch my heart.
we share a bond and it is only between me and you
we get each other in a secretive way and i like how it feels, we are alike in many ways and yet significantly different but that’s why we get along so well.
i am pretty sure you don’t know how i feel about you but i like to view it as clandestine love that you know deep down inside…..
This is another day where it’s hard to really write about something. View view view view.
Room with a view. Wow, look at that view. Your tits are quite the view. Yikes, what a view. Viewer discretion advised. Don’t view without parent permission.
There is a giant picture window at the end of the hallway. Clear glass, slightly smudged at shoulder level, framed in whitewashed wood. The shutters are thrown ajar, the wood splintered at the base. A lavender curtain waves wildly in the breeze.
“What a beautiful view! You can see lights forever from here!”
“Yes, that is one of the things that I like about city life. At night, I can look out, and there are lights for miles and miles … seemingly forever.”
From Alastors point of view, his whole world had stopped, though he was sure that the people around him were continuing as though he hadn’t moved at all. Then again he was moving faster than the speed of light so it was only natural that they wouldn’t spot him. He bolted into the safe before it could close and leaned against the wall breathing deeply. Halfway finished his job now.
It’s a nice view outside. It is drizzling… I see the tiny drops of rain on the window. Sort of cloudy but I feel good about it. I love the weather. It’s a nice view, just looking at the park across where I am.
if there is one thing that most commonly leads me to vicissitude and trouble, it would be giving my point of view. i am too opinionated to have friends.
It was a view like no other, Jin liked to think.
Moonlight shining in through a crack in the curtain, shining a halo around a head of blond hair, a sleeping face peeking from behind it’s curls.
It was beautiful.
i am sick of the view outside my window.
dead brown leaves and tall tall palm trees.
i want to look outside and see
a rainbow in the trees
and flutters of snow
and mountains that touch the blue blue sky.
i have to get out of here.
Everything is seen from a different point of view. Just look at how we view things today versus how we used to see them. So many things have changed, and you never know what to expect anymore, but that’s okay… Changing views is kinda good.
The view changes everything. Sometimes the climb to the top is torturous, but isn’t it worth it for the view? Sometimes a change of a perspective seems impossible, but why not try?
this window faces the sky. just straight up, through mess and clutter and disaster. it breaks through into this enormous expanse of white, an unimaginable mass of infinite. your eyes soar and race against winds, away from heartache and tears and stings of the past.
the view
from where I’m sitting
is complicated
perplexing
exciting
new
and oh so very beautiful
i love looking
at you
Sometimes, it all depends on who is looking. Things look one way when you view them from one person’s perspective and entirely different from another person’s. If only we could all remember that our way is not always entirely the right way or the only way. Others’ views are also valid.
i like to view things. they have nice qualities and such. they look really cool. or i just like to view them. viewing can lead to good or bad outcomes. either of which could be enjoyable or not so much. many things can be viewed. such as a pineapple.
I view the world
by the minuscule
all that everyone finds insignificant
that which is ignored
truly holds the most beauty
i view things
in repetition and rhythm, in color, in balance, in shadows and in light
i view things as others don’t
and if they do
well
then i guess i’m not so special
“Really, I don’t think you should be up there,” Angela said to her boyfriend, Skull.
“But the view up here is great!” Skull replied.
“Really, I think it’s a bad idea, and you’re starting to hurt me.”
“Hey, come on, you should join me up here; I can see over the roof of your house all the way to the Toledo skyline!”
“I can’t join you, it’s a physical impossiblity!” Angela angrily spat out, “Now get off my augmented breasts and join me down here on the porch swing!”
the view from the miranda was incredible. she gasped as a gust of wind cleansed her of any apprehensions she had about coming here. she was joined by the strong arms of her husband wrapping around her. she giggled as he nuzzled at the nape of her neck. ‘stop..’ she said playfully. she gasped again, this time in surprise as he gripped her hips violently. suddenly she was airborn. he hoisted her up and flung her like a heavy bag of garbage. she didnt scream until the realization of the cold cement below was inches from her face, in result, her scream came out short, sudden, mixing in with sqwaks of near by seagulls. he laughed at this.
I had a group of the most amazing acquaintences ever.
They’re dead and gond though.
There’s something interesting about the concept of a Christian death: we rejoice at the funeral, because it is good; they are passing to a better place, a place free of worry, hate and sadness.
I’m sure their views from heaven is better than mine here.
My view on life change on a daily basis. When I gaze out of my window, I get a nice view of the cars rushing by, and the people walking passed with their dogs. From my normal sitting spot under the oak tree at the park, I can get a good view of the kids playing in the leaves, or when I lay down, I can see the clouds transform.
multiple points of view, are what i’ve tried to acquired since i was much younger. nothing can be more dangerous than viewing something from only one perspective.
He saw a girl with issues, her tears annoyed him. She just did it for attention.
She saw someone she knew did not understand. there were hurts, deep hurts. Things that couldn’t be erased with ease.
My view is very different than others, I feel as though I am different. Like I wonder constantly about if other people think like me. I’m scared if I am so different, no one will like me. No one will ever see the real me, who I truly am. I’m frightened…
The view wasn’t clear, through the glass wall separating me from my newborn twins. Alex and Juliet, they had been born several weeks early and needed intensive care.
i looked down at the lights of the city. the busy streets looked like streams of bright light. I held Tight to Collins hand as we started down the hill.
To view this image….please do something for me. View this ad, click this link. Think about something, think of what you’re doing, how badly you want to see me today. I miss you. To view a photo of an empty frame, people crowded around a blank canvas exclaiming at it’s originality. Why?
The view is lonely from here. Deep within the recesses of my mind. Places I’ve barely explored, places left dark and unattended, because I am afraid of what’s in them. I’m afraid that once I discover who I am I’ll want to run away, but it will be to no avail, for one cannot escape one’s thoughts.
The view is beautiful from where I am now. Safe, secure, and absolutely not me.
It’s like seeing the sun for the first time. Looking past all that fog and hideous gray spray to see what you should have been looking at the entire time. For some people it’s a face. Many see God. Others see an idea, a wish. Me? I don’t see anything.
i wrote a paper about this today. the view of yourself, of life when you step back, see it in retrospect. its one of those contradicting things about our existence, though. the world seems like a bigger place, though in different ways than when i was younger. consequently, it seems smaller. there’s a reversal of things as you age, in almost everything – the good and bad. you go to college where you learn a wealth of information, of lessons, of others, of yourself – where you learn just how much you don’t know.
life is ironic, you know.
the manifestation of such words.
i wrote about being a musician. it is my love – another enigma. it is my most significant frustration, my worst pain, my biggest fear. it is also my purest joy, my utmost peace.
such is life.
the way I see the world
The view from the weekend is sharper than it was a minute ago. Just moments lost. Do you have questions?
Just ask my saturday perspective at office hours.
I swivel and check both side mirrors; Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. Shit. I can see her in the distance, not far off, her headlights flashing and illuminating the dark road. Even with my tail light off and the tree branches obstructing her view, there was no way she doesn’t know we’re there. The rev of my motorcycle made it quite obvious where we were and that we’re on the run. She’ gaining, and we don’t have much time. Twisting the throttle as far as it can go, the engine chokes for a moment before stalling and than jolting forward at full speed. I feel Victor have a mini seizure as he wraps his arms tighter around me and screams,
“Wot the ‘ell was that? You coulda killed me! Yuh even know how to drive this piece ‘o shit?” I chuckle. His accent is even thicker when he’s terrified.
“Stop being such a pussy. If I had gone at your pace we’d be dead by now.” I can feel him sigh into the back of my neck as he rests his head on my shoulder,
“Awww fuck off Em, you know I’m afraid of motorbikes…”
“…and heights. And anything sharp. And blood. And loud noises. And scary movies or anything that goes bump in the night. Even spiders! Explain to me why you’re the chosen one, and I just get to be the punny side kick?”
“Cuz ya a girl, Em,” he scoffs, “trust me, I’d do anythin’ to switch places with yuh,” he sighs again, “but tha’s just not the way thin’s are, not since…” all of a sudden, the engine stutters, and a puff of smoke erupts from the back. The bike begins to slowly speed up.
“Why are we going faster?” Victor screams over the wind. I thrust my boot hard onto the brakes; once, twice, three times…nothing.
“Shit. Shit,” I yell, “shit, fuck!”
“Wot? Wot? EM! Answer me!” Victor yells.
“We gotta jump, Victor.”
“What? WHAT? I can’t! I won’t!”
“The engine’s going to overheat, we have to get off now!”
“Emma, tha’s is a horrid idea! D’you hear yerself right now? I won’t do it!”
“When I say jump, you jump. Ready? Three, two…”
“Em…”
“…One…”
“Emma stop this nonsense!”
“JUMP!” We hurl ourselves off the seat, grazing the gravel from the overrun curb, and landing hard in the brush. I hear a splash, and I can hear Victor moan as he rolls himself out of the mud. Ahead I hear the the bike smash into god knows what, and with a blast, the air ahead of us is cloud of hot smoke and red flames. But I don’t have time to stare very long, the headlights are getting closer, and I was beginning to be able to make out the outline of her sharp, pointed face in the windshield. Victor rolls on to his back and pants,
“Now what?”
“We run,” I say, wrenching him from the grass and launching our bodies into the woods, “and if we’re lucky she’ll think we’re dead.”
I want the world out my window,
With steel skyscrapers that diamonds cannot outshine,
Lush green willows under trees,
A ferris wheel by the hill,
Canals and boats,
Water so blue,
Sun so bright,
A life so light,
I cannot accept anything else as right.
Try to see things my view, instead of seeing everything from your high point in the sky, imagine what its like on the ground. Bound to the Earth by chains, having to watch all the others fly and laugh in the clouds, a place where you’ll never be aloud to touch.
That’s what its like for me. I’m grounded.
Click click she turned the technicolor viewfinder to see a family and their dog. Then click click with her little finger the image rotated oh no what is sally doing to jimmy she is pushing him over and clawing at his face and he is screaming in horror and her eyes have turned blood red and she is foaming at the mouth she must want his brains. Oh no fisher price what has happened to you…
We have quite opposite views on things. They say that love consists not in gazing at one another but in gazing outward in the same direction. I would say that our love consists in gazing to see completely different views but holding hands to let the other know we’ll always be there to share the horizon with them.
I look out my window everyday and each day the view of the mountains is different in some way. It changes all the time by the weather and time of the day, I love it.
I viewed the letters and numbers on the board. i looked on with nervous determination as I placed both my hands on the planchet; this is dangerous alone, I’ve been told. But no one would help me. I needed answers, and I was determined to get them. So this was the only way.
I’ve been obsessed with spirits and ghosts for two years now. I can’t get them out of my head, ever since I saw that psychic on T.V. I’ve yoked myself to the idea of contacting the dead.
I woke up with a new view of life, maybe because I woke up next to you. It shouldn’t work, but it does. We work in a way no one expected. It’s not that we’re not still sick, not still sad, but together we’re stronger than we are when we’re alone.
You see things a little differently every day. And it’s hard to say if that’s you changing or if it’s your world. There’s a good chance, though, that it’s a little of both.
The amazing view of your captivating eyes, they lock me in a room where i feel safe and secure
you understand me and read my emotions even when i say nothing at all, you have been there always and never did i view you as the person that would catch my heart.
we share a bond and it is only between me and you
we get each other in a secretive way and i like how it feels, we are alike in many ways and yet significantly different but that’s why we get along so well.
i am pretty sure you don’t know how i feel about you but i like to view it as clandestine love that you know deep down inside…..
Two people view things in very different ways.
First impressions do matter.
This is another day where it’s hard to really write about something. View view view view.
Room with a view. Wow, look at that view. Your tits are quite the view. Yikes, what a view. Viewer discretion advised. Don’t view without parent permission.
There is a giant picture window at the end of the hallway. Clear glass, slightly smudged at shoulder level, framed in whitewashed wood. The shutters are thrown ajar, the wood splintered at the base. A lavender curtain waves wildly in the breeze.