the view from the top of the building was terrifying beyond belief, but she leaned out as far as she could and closed her eyes. The wind was powerful, and she considered, if only for a moment, letting it take her away. Letting go. She could see herself falling, almost. But she didn’t, and she was alive, and she was whole. The still air when she returned to the building was loud with absence.
the view was exceptional many people were stopping to glance towards the rising sun how many more days wouldther tbkasdhjf;kldsajf;kdlfj;df;dfjjlkj;fkf;djf;dkjf;kjdfkdjf;akjf;kdfkj;kdfjkdfjaoonce upon a time there were three bears a mother bear a baby ber and a father bear how cute they were just living in the forest as ahapp as clam so
The view from here is a lot clearer than I remember. Although, I might be closer to the ground but I feel my head is still in the clouds. At least the sights I see aren’t as foggy as they used to be. It seems the view is settling.
There a dark sky above, and the river of red below…
Your face is blurred but beautiful…obscured but radiant.
As you fade away from view, I can’t help but wonder what made you do it.
“Hey!” I yelled, calling after my brother. “You promised me you’d take me to see it!” Mish rolled his eyes, “I’m taking my girlfriend to see the view from Mount Baldonia, that’s more important”
View me flying across planes atuned to the night’s sky punched with holes leaking white lights upon us. View me viewing you as your eyes view myself and ask yourself why I can’t see my reflection in your eyes and I will tell you that I’m only a figment of your imagination. Therefore a skewed view, an illusion.
and even though i’m bundled, feeling trapped and childlike–a puffy coat, mittens half-out of full pockets, a scarf to the chin–even though i can barely move, the view still widens.
The view from my perception is a view that needs altered. The view of our nation and our future is a view that is quite shaky. Our view alters ONLY if we make the changes to make it so.
From my point of view, the valley is dark and the mountains are unchanged. I’ve conquered them all only to remain numb and unable to feel what it’s like to live.
“…and as I saw her face; it became pensive with questions. She wanted to ask me about her, I know she did. No matter the pain of viewing what had happened, nor the strife, she’d want to know. And she did end up knowing.”
I looked at the beautiful ocean view in front of me. The salty waves were crashing onto the sandy beach. I felt the sun beat down onto my tan skin and the cool breeze blowing my long brown hair. I felt the sand between my toes as i walked to my boyfriend ahead. Him with his beautiful smile and his baby blues eyes excite me. I sighed as i sat right down next to him. This was going to be the best day ever.
when people ask for a table or a room with a view, they mean that they want to look out and see real beauty right in front of them. some views are beautiful; some are not. but we should not ever take the views for granted
A Room With a View. Stunning, really, what Forster can do. With Helena Bonham Carter in it, too. Although the movie is never as true. But it perfectly portrayed that fine British crew. And the images made it one that flew.
God, what a beautiful view.
The snow fell like a ballet dancer, the strength of the wind sweeping it away, up and off of the ground, quiet and delicate and lace, but loud in it’s own way. I didn’t get it, I never would.
Why am I stuck here wondering about next week’s deadlines and what I’ll eat for breakfast and when I have that dentist appointment?
I wanted to float, to dance in that snow.
I want to breathe in the tall pines and morph into their rich mahogany, that Cherry Coke bark.
“Fisher! Can you come in and watch Mason for a few hours, I got called in, a Labrador got hit by a pick up.”
Reality pulled me back in my mom’s rushed voice.
A Room with a View–Virginia Woolf–why is it that extremely talented women in history have come to suicidal ends. There is just no room in society for off-beat spirits acting out in their old ways. I write this as I listen to Janis Joplin. I hope things have changed in this regard.
In the middle of the doorway stood a crooked figure who leaned on his cane. He was tired, and eventually like all, he grew defeated after the persistent thought he gave for her. The shadows overlapped his face so that is was perfectly concealed behind a darkness, flattering him and his crooked smile.
“I wish I could change this fatalistic view you have placed upon the world.”
In a dusty chair she was curled facing nothing. Her head was turned towards him but here eyes saw past his existence.
“I’m in this world aren’t I? Am I not worth being hopeful about?” he asked. He wasn’t angry, not in the slightest, but rather – he was terribly afraid. This was what they had, something great and worth writing about. But there is a darkness in her that he thought he could save her from, and that darkness drained him. He was hers. She was his as much as she ever could be, but, he had to save himself.
The hit numbers are moving up so fast that they are blurred. How could this be happening? The whole screen goes black. Some tiny dots blink on the screen and position themselves into words, words that I don’t want to read. Not only do I have a virus, I am being blackmailed. It is definitely, definitely settled. And they are going to pay.
to view someone in different perspectives is sometimes hard to do. to see from someones innerself and not their outer. its like looking into their heart and viewing their inner self and viewing them as someone beautiful
to see , a beautiful sight , to see love and to see biuty in things. people with no sight havent lived to the full potential and seen wat life is about
The hills stretched out before her, their magnificent mottled green seeming to go on forever. If she hadn’t known better she would’ve thought that nothing would interfere with such a view. However even from here she could spot the roads, although few, criss-crossing amongst the green, much like badly healed scars.
i viewed the picture on my wall and it was blurry i dont know why. suddenly everything was clearer it was like space i had never seen anything like it before.. what is this thing? this place? was it my view on the world or someone elses?
i didn’t know.
My point of view seemed irrelevant and he’d managed to twist it so that it appeared I was full of nonsense and tears. I definitely would not be wearing that wedding dress. And so I hit him. Hard. I left a mark. Something blue.
אני יכולה לראות כל כך הרבה דברים בעולם המופלא שלנו,
אפשר לראות דרך העיניים אפשר לראות ברגשות, אפשר לראות את העולם, להביט, לחדור אל תוך נשמת האחר,
לחדור ולראות את סודות היקום.
לראות, משמעו להבין, להבין באמת את הסוד שמסתתר מאחורי העולם, מאחורי היקום.
viewing is the action to watch/see something. If you look at ‘a view’, it is normally considered to be a good looking sight. E.g. ‘What a view’. Also, you can view a TV programme. View in the NAto phonetic alpha bet is Viktor India Echo Whiskey. Baaam. View. Sexy veiewing. View porn. View everything. It’s veryy cool. It’s incredibly fun to view something. Viewing porn probably damamges your cock or eyes though, although I wouldn’t know. I only watch grannies touch themselves up.
viewing is the action to watch/see something. If you look at ‘a view’, it is normally considered to be a good looking sight. E.g. ‘What a view’. Also, you can view a TV programme. View in the NAto phonetic alpha bet is Viktor India Echo Whiskey. Baaam. View. Sexy veiewing. View porn. View everything
The view from the hill was most pleasant indeed. Those thoughts that filled my head when I was young came rushing back at me. Oh! how sweet, oh! what a lovely day, what a lovey view of home sweet home, from far away.
The view from my room is the same every day, the same houses, the same mountain, the same trees. I remember looking out the window and wishing it would change.
Views are often distorted by things. Windows. Frosts. Preconceived notions. The views of problems change with different inspirations. It is less of a problem than it seems, you just have to buckle down the hatches. A becalmed sea is just waiting for a storm.
The view from my window is crystalline perfection, filled with cold edged frost that spreads in a delightful fractal whorls that dress everything in diamond-shine perfection. Making all the world beautiful and clean.
It was misty outside, so much so that the view looked as if it had been drenched in some sort of heavy white coating. I liked it like that, mysterious. It was a sign that winter was fast approaching, the cold air closing in on the small, quite town which I lived in. My favourite time of year.
There is a room with a view. A girl sits in a window. Her legs are curled up under her. In her left hand, there’s a cup of tea. Her favourite kind. No one really knows what her favourite is, because she has so many. She is looking at a man. In the garden. The man hoists up his pants, before he continues to rake the leaves.
The view was beautiful as we faced the city far away. We looked at the stars and talked about being away from society. I want that to be a reality. Just us against the world.
a vista. a point in time and place. a glance, a moment, a long gaze. sight. sensing. seeing.
the view from the top of the building was terrifying beyond belief, but she leaned out as far as she could and closed her eyes. The wind was powerful, and she considered, if only for a moment, letting it take her away. Letting go. She could see herself falling, almost. But she didn’t, and she was alive, and she was whole. The still air when she returned to the building was loud with absence.
the view was exceptional many people were stopping to glance towards the rising sun how many more days wouldther tbkasdhjf;kldsajf;kdlfj;df;dfjjlkj;fkf;djf;dkjf;kjdfkdjf;akjf;kdfkj;kdfjkdfjaoonce upon a time there were three bears a mother bear a baby ber and a father bear how cute they were just living in the forest as ahapp as clam so
The view from here is a lot clearer than I remember. Although, I might be closer to the ground but I feel my head is still in the clouds. At least the sights I see aren’t as foggy as they used to be. It seems the view is settling.
There a dark sky above, and the river of red below…
Your face is blurred but beautiful…obscured but radiant.
As you fade away from view, I can’t help but wonder what made you do it.
“Hey!” I yelled, calling after my brother. “You promised me you’d take me to see it!” Mish rolled his eyes, “I’m taking my girlfriend to see the view from Mount Baldonia, that’s more important”
The lake was amazing. The water was a mirror that reflected the beauty of the forest behind it.
The view from the mountain reminded me of home. You never want to be home when you’re young but move away then that’s when you want to be there.
View me flying across planes atuned to the night’s sky punched with holes leaking white lights upon us. View me viewing you as your eyes view myself and ask yourself why I can’t see my reflection in your eyes and I will tell you that I’m only a figment of your imagination. Therefore a skewed view, an illusion.
and even though i’m bundled, feeling trapped and childlike–a puffy coat, mittens half-out of full pockets, a scarf to the chin–even though i can barely move, the view still widens.
The view from my perception is a view that needs altered. The view of our nation and our future is a view that is quite shaky. Our view alters ONLY if we make the changes to make it so.
from here, i can view either the end or the beginning of me. i can smell gasoline, and flowers, and everywhere… that same strange uncertain light
its not enough to just view. i want to see
From my point of view, the valley is dark and the mountains are unchanged. I’ve conquered them all only to remain numb and unable to feel what it’s like to live.
“…and as I saw her face; it became pensive with questions. She wanted to ask me about her, I know she did. No matter the pain of viewing what had happened, nor the strife, she’d want to know. And she did end up knowing.”
I looked at the beautiful ocean view in front of me. The salty waves were crashing onto the sandy beach. I felt the sun beat down onto my tan skin and the cool breeze blowing my long brown hair. I felt the sand between my toes as i walked to my boyfriend ahead. Him with his beautiful smile and his baby blues eyes excite me. I sighed as i sat right down next to him. This was going to be the best day ever.
when people ask for a table or a room with a view, they mean that they want to look out and see real beauty right in front of them. some views are beautiful; some are not. but we should not ever take the views for granted
A Room With a View. Stunning, really, what Forster can do. With Helena Bonham Carter in it, too. Although the movie is never as true. But it perfectly portrayed that fine British crew. And the images made it one that flew.
God, what a beautiful view.
The snow fell like a ballet dancer, the strength of the wind sweeping it away, up and off of the ground, quiet and delicate and lace, but loud in it’s own way. I didn’t get it, I never would.
Why am I stuck here wondering about next week’s deadlines and what I’ll eat for breakfast and when I have that dentist appointment?
I wanted to float, to dance in that snow.
I want to breathe in the tall pines and morph into their rich mahogany, that Cherry Coke bark.
“Fisher! Can you come in and watch Mason for a few hours, I got called in, a Labrador got hit by a pick up.”
Reality pulled me back in my mom’s rushed voice.
A Room with a View–Virginia Woolf–why is it that extremely talented women in history have come to suicidal ends. There is just no room in society for off-beat spirits acting out in their old ways. I write this as I listen to Janis Joplin. I hope things have changed in this regard.
I don’t know, the long view is what I see what I want but I don’t know, life is not as planned
In the middle of the doorway stood a crooked figure who leaned on his cane. He was tired, and eventually like all, he grew defeated after the persistent thought he gave for her. The shadows overlapped his face so that is was perfectly concealed behind a darkness, flattering him and his crooked smile.
“I wish I could change this fatalistic view you have placed upon the world.”
In a dusty chair she was curled facing nothing. Her head was turned towards him but here eyes saw past his existence.
“I’m in this world aren’t I? Am I not worth being hopeful about?” he asked. He wasn’t angry, not in the slightest, but rather – he was terribly afraid. This was what they had, something great and worth writing about. But there is a darkness in her that he thought he could save her from, and that darkness drained him. He was hers. She was his as much as she ever could be, but, he had to save himself.
The hit numbers are moving up so fast that they are blurred. How could this be happening? The whole screen goes black. Some tiny dots blink on the screen and position themselves into words, words that I don’t want to read. Not only do I have a virus, I am being blackmailed. It is definitely, definitely settled. And they are going to pay.
to view someone in different perspectives is sometimes hard to do. to see from someones innerself and not their outer. its like looking into their heart and viewing their inner self and viewing them as someone beautiful
to see , a beautiful sight , to see love and to see biuty in things. people with no sight havent lived to the full potential and seen wat life is about
Raks what is your view about me? Especially what is our pure relationship meant. I can tell the answer. To view the world with four eyes.
The hills stretched out before her, their magnificent mottled green seeming to go on forever. If she hadn’t known better she would’ve thought that nothing would interfere with such a view. However even from here she could spot the roads, although few, criss-crossing amongst the green, much like badly healed scars.
i viewed the picture on my wall and it was blurry i dont know why. suddenly everything was clearer it was like space i had never seen anything like it before.. what is this thing? this place? was it my view on the world or someone elses?
i didn’t know.
My point of view seemed irrelevant and he’d managed to twist it so that it appeared I was full of nonsense and tears. I definitely would not be wearing that wedding dress. And so I hit him. Hard. I left a mark. Something blue.
אני יכולה לראות כל כך הרבה דברים בעולם המופלא שלנו,
אפשר לראות דרך העיניים אפשר לראות ברגשות, אפשר לראות את העולם, להביט, לחדור אל תוך נשמת האחר,
לחדור ולראות את סודות היקום.
לראות, משמעו להבין, להבין באמת את הסוד שמסתתר מאחורי העולם, מאחורי היקום.
viewing is the action to watch/see something. If you look at ‘a view’, it is normally considered to be a good looking sight. E.g. ‘What a view’. Also, you can view a TV programme. View in the NAto phonetic alpha bet is Viktor India Echo Whiskey. Baaam. View. Sexy veiewing. View porn. View everything. It’s veryy cool. It’s incredibly fun to view something. Viewing porn probably damamges your cock or eyes though, although I wouldn’t know. I only watch grannies touch themselves up.
viewing is the action to watch/see something. If you look at ‘a view’, it is normally considered to be a good looking sight. E.g. ‘What a view’. Also, you can view a TV programme. View in the NAto phonetic alpha bet is Viktor India Echo Whiskey. Baaam. View. Sexy veiewing. View porn. View everything
i look around, the people the things around me and wish for a change. its a beautiful view. but its empty with no thought or feel to it.
The view from the hill was most pleasant indeed. Those thoughts that filled my head when I was young came rushing back at me. Oh! how sweet, oh! what a lovely day, what a lovey view of home sweet home, from far away.
The view from my room is the same every day, the same houses, the same mountain, the same trees. I remember looking out the window and wishing it would change.
Views are often distorted by things. Windows. Frosts. Preconceived notions. The views of problems change with different inspirations. It is less of a problem than it seems, you just have to buckle down the hatches. A becalmed sea is just waiting for a storm.
The view from my window is crystalline perfection, filled with cold edged frost that spreads in a delightful fractal whorls that dress everything in diamond-shine perfection. Making all the world beautiful and clean.
It was misty outside, so much so that the view looked as if it had been drenched in some sort of heavy white coating. I liked it like that, mysterious. It was a sign that winter was fast approaching, the cold air closing in on the small, quite town which I lived in. My favourite time of year.
There is a room with a view. A girl sits in a window. Her legs are curled up under her. In her left hand, there’s a cup of tea. Her favourite kind. No one really knows what her favourite is, because she has so many. She is looking at a man. In the garden. The man hoists up his pants, before he continues to rake the leaves.
The view was beautiful as we faced the city far away. We looked at the stars and talked about being away from society. I want that to be a reality. Just us against the world.
What others view is not what you see. What you view is not what you see. What you see is when you look not view.