Estimate is a forecasted number for a given subject. E.g. cost is estimated at $20. Estimate can be used for various purposes, especially where projections are needed.
I couldn’t tell how long I had been procrastinating writing the essay. It was due tomorrow, but instead of working on it, I’ve been watching boring shows, reading random stuff on the internet, and occasionally staring at a wall for disturbingly long increments of time.
I could estimate how long I’d been wasting time based on the number of episodes of T.V. shows I’ve watched.
It’ll take years to get that much money together, he thought to himself. I estimate that it’ll be ages before we can live off the land of our dreams. But we’ve got to try. We’re not like the other folks. We’ve got plans, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. We’ve just got to wake up and realize it.
it is where you guess something. you could say that i estimate that this will happen whenever. It is a prediction. It means predict. I predict that i will die. I estimate that i will die
roughly calculate or judge the value, number, quantity, or extent of:
“the aim is to estimate the effects of macroeconomic policy on the economy”
synonyms: roughly calculate · approximate ·make an estimate of ·
an approximate calculation or judgement of the value, number, quantity, or extent of something:
“at a rough estimate, staff are recycling a quarter of paper used”
synonyms: rough calculation · approximation · estimation
Estimate. Reminds me of uncertainty. It carries a connotation of not being sure what you’re working with but no matter what, you’re still going to get an answer. The result will still be there. And maybe it’ll be an even better result because you’ll be forced to work with what you have and be more flexible. I have 60 seconds to write this and it might not be my best work, but I’ll still have a result and that’s what counts.
It is the guess. The one simple guess of what you can become or what you will never become. It is used to guess how far, how much and maybe even when someone might do something. It is all a possibility.
A judgement based on nothing at all. Science, nature, experience. All of it runs together to this ineffable experience of prediction. Does it mean anything? Yes, they would have you believe. They would have you think that you can hang all your hopes on this concept, this idea, this word.
I hold his hand and guess. “Is there something you want to say?” His eyes dance around the room like light from a diamond. My thoughts flicker around the truth. I don’t know what it is. I can’t know what it is. I can only guess.
Sam could only estimate how far it was from his side of the canyon to the other. The rope bridge swayed dangerously on the rise and fall of the unpredictable winds that flowed up from the canyon floor. He peered over the edge and cringed. The bottom was too far to see and the black shadows seemed to be reaching up for him. He looked back at the bridge. If it didn’t hold, he’d be discovering what hid below in those black shadows long before he wanted to.
He knew he had to make a decision. They weren’t far behind him. It was now or never. Sam gripped the rope bridge in both hands, closed his eyes, and took a step….
the far mountains attempted to estimate the close bushes,
together, they formed, a union,
a pear and its wooden stem,
united, one, synced,
as no one can ever imagine…
Where doom misbehaves
we groove to stay a jade,
moved like spades you may;
dark lust if you will, milky-way grasshopper!
The lines were straight. She trembled. The brush quivered. She threw it to the ground. She exhaled and swore, and ran her fingers through her hair, coating them in a fine layer of red.
Straight was an estimate.
The estimate for the wedding budget was around twenty-five thousand dollars, and we had gotten about twenty thousand of it from our parents so far. Now it was a matter of us saving. I held off on buying the standard six-pack of cider, while she managed to cut back on coffee outings. We cooked more meals at home, we found cheaper alternatives for our dates, and we spent nights in instead of out when we could. We saved five thousand dollars in about six months, which was pretty damn impressive.
There was no time to think. The air rushed through Jack’s hair, whipping dangerously around his face. His eyes watered, but he couldn’t close them. He had to make this, or Bunny would die. There was no way that could happen. Not on his watch. He gauged the distance and made the leap.
He kept shifting back and forth, like there was something he didn’t want to tell me. I told him my estimate was based on what I knew about the condition of the car, what it sold for in other cases, blah blah etc. How was I to know the car had a dead body in the trunk? I wouldn’t have known whether to raise or lower my estimate because of that anyway.
It’s impossible to know how many. They move through the walls of our world, leaving behind residues the strongest of which only the most modern dim-tech can detect. Even so, we still don’t know how to predict the Quakes. Last time it struck in a town by the woods, and half the buildings were destroyed, thirty people were killed.
i hold a cigarette in my mouth,
the cardboard box which held it, reads:
‘estimate: 443.000 people die prematurely from tobacco abuse’
ashes flutter around,
the smoke in the atmosphere blinds my sight.
i take a deep, long drag
my mouth utters an inaudible chuckle
whilst my eyes water, i bow my head down.
sadness overflows my surroundings,
everything turns blue.
i wonder how many
whom are stuck with the vice’s
deepest desire was to die prematurely
because of some gloomy green eyes
95 calories. no, 100. who are we kidding? 150. toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.
i feel like i’m going to throw up. i don’t understand why my mother of all people, the very woman who is meant to love me no matter what, is doing this. it must be something i’ve said. it must be those jeans i bought, the really expensive ones. they must have been tighter than i thought they’d be. they must have made me look like the FAT PIG i am. and that wasn’t enough for her because she seems to have decided that she’s going to make me even fatter.
i feel the lump rising in my throat and the tears pricking my eyelids. the cold sweat is beginning to form in little beads on my hairline. my hands are shaking too much to even contemplate picking up the fork.
95, 100, 150. the numbers are jumbled in my head and make no sense. how much do i weigh again? 130? 120? 110? i genuinely don’t remember, i just know that it’s not enough and never will be.
toomuchtoomuchtoomuch. i can’t eat this. i can’t. i won’t. i’m not throwing everything i’ve worked so hard for away. no, fatty. don’t pick up the fork. don’t. don’t do this to yourself – OH GOD it smells so good. my stomach hurts. when was the last time i ate? this morning? last night? yesterday. i can’t resist. my stomach grumbles, ordering me to get a move on.
with shaking hands, i pick up the fork and shove the pasta into my mouth. just one more mouthful and then i’ll stop, i promise. one more. one more. god, it’s SO GOOD I WANT MORE I NEED MORE I’M HUNGRY. one more, and that’ll be it. i’ll exercise it off when i go home. i’ll fast tomorrow. i’ll do anything.
within a minute, the whole dish is gone and i feel sick. i look down at the plate and i am repulsed by it, by myself. i regret eating it almost instantly.
“wow, you must have been hungry!” my father says from across the table and i begin to hate myself even more. i know what he must be thinking. i know what they’re all thinking, what they all know is true but are too kind to admit to me. fat.
i look down at my now empty plate again. the sauce and smell now make me want to throw up. the taste of basil in my mouth and the cramps in my stomach make me want to curl up into a ball and never leave my room again.
Estimate is a forecasted number for a given subject. E.g. cost is estimated at $20. Estimate can be used for various purposes, especially where projections are needed.
I couldn’t tell how long I had been procrastinating writing the essay. It was due tomorrow, but instead of working on it, I’ve been watching boring shows, reading random stuff on the internet, and occasionally staring at a wall for disturbingly long increments of time.
I could estimate how long I’d been wasting time based on the number of episodes of T.V. shows I’ve watched.
It’ll take years to get that much money together, he thought to himself. I estimate that it’ll be ages before we can live off the land of our dreams. But we’ve got to try. We’re not like the other folks. We’ve got plans, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us. We’ve just got to wake up and realize it.
the time in between bus journeys to school watching you sit in the back row with your friends and not mine
time to get from somewhere to the next and back again before i’m too late and miss it
Tomorrow I am having a realtor come to my home to give me an estimate on my homes worth, to figure out whether I want to put it up for sale or stay.
it is where you guess something. you could say that i estimate that this will happen whenever. It is a prediction. It means predict. I predict that i will die. I estimate that i will die
roughly calculate or judge the value, number, quantity, or extent of:
“the aim is to estimate the effects of macroeconomic policy on the economy”
synonyms: roughly calculate · approximate ·make an estimate of ·
an approximate calculation or judgement of the value, number, quantity, or extent of something:
“at a rough estimate, staff are recycling a quarter of paper used”
synonyms: rough calculation · approximation · estimation
estimate. it comes in many forms, whether in terms of math, or even character, but it isn’t accurate,because it is merely an estimate.
Estimate. Reminds me of uncertainty. It carries a connotation of not being sure what you’re working with but no matter what, you’re still going to get an answer. The result will still be there. And maybe it’ll be an even better result because you’ll be forced to work with what you have and be more flexible. I have 60 seconds to write this and it might not be my best work, but I’ll still have a result and that’s what counts.
To estimate is to make an educated guess of something. In life, your ability to estimate is essential. It will make you have better decisions.
It is the guess. The one simple guess of what you can become or what you will never become. It is used to guess how far, how much and maybe even when someone might do something. It is all a possibility.
A judgement based on nothing at all. Science, nature, experience. All of it runs together to this ineffable experience of prediction. Does it mean anything? Yes, they would have you believe. They would have you think that you can hang all your hopes on this concept, this idea, this word.
I hold his hand and guess. “Is there something you want to say?” His eyes dance around the room like light from a diamond. My thoughts flicker around the truth. I don’t know what it is. I can’t know what it is. I can only guess.
Sam could only estimate how far it was from his side of the canyon to the other. The rope bridge swayed dangerously on the rise and fall of the unpredictable winds that flowed up from the canyon floor. He peered over the edge and cringed. The bottom was too far to see and the black shadows seemed to be reaching up for him. He looked back at the bridge. If it didn’t hold, he’d be discovering what hid below in those black shadows long before he wanted to.
He knew he had to make a decision. They weren’t far behind him. It was now or never. Sam gripped the rope bridge in both hands, closed his eyes, and took a step….
the far mountains attempted to estimate the close bushes,
together, they formed, a union,
a pear and its wooden stem,
united, one, synced,
as no one can ever imagine…
Where doom misbehaves
we groove to stay a jade,
moved like spades you may;
dark lust if you will, milky-way grasshopper!
The lines were straight. She trembled. The brush quivered. She threw it to the ground. She exhaled and swore, and ran her fingers through her hair, coating them in a fine layer of red.
Straight was an estimate.
The estimate for the wedding budget was around twenty-five thousand dollars, and we had gotten about twenty thousand of it from our parents so far. Now it was a matter of us saving. I held off on buying the standard six-pack of cider, while she managed to cut back on coffee outings. We cooked more meals at home, we found cheaper alternatives for our dates, and we spent nights in instead of out when we could. We saved five thousand dollars in about six months, which was pretty damn impressive.
There was no time to think. The air rushed through Jack’s hair, whipping dangerously around his face. His eyes watered, but he couldn’t close them. He had to make this, or Bunny would die. There was no way that could happen. Not on his watch. He gauged the distance and made the leap.
He kept shifting back and forth, like there was something he didn’t want to tell me. I told him my estimate was based on what I knew about the condition of the car, what it sold for in other cases, blah blah etc. How was I to know the car had a dead body in the trunk? I wouldn’t have known whether to raise or lower my estimate because of that anyway.
It’s impossible to know how many. They move through the walls of our world, leaving behind residues the strongest of which only the most modern dim-tech can detect. Even so, we still don’t know how to predict the Quakes. Last time it struck in a town by the woods, and half the buildings were destroyed, thirty people were killed.
i hold a cigarette in my mouth,
the cardboard box which held it, reads:
‘estimate: 443.000 people die prematurely from tobacco abuse’
ashes flutter around,
the smoke in the atmosphere blinds my sight.
i take a deep, long drag
my mouth utters an inaudible chuckle
whilst my eyes water, i bow my head down.
sadness overflows my surroundings,
everything turns blue.
i wonder how many
whom are stuck with the vice’s
deepest desire was to die prematurely
because of some gloomy green eyes
Greed or growth?
Do you even know the difference?
Can you give an estimate, perhaps an approximate definition as to the true nature of each?
95 calories. no, 100. who are we kidding? 150. toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.
i feel like i’m going to throw up. i don’t understand why my mother of all people, the very woman who is meant to love me no matter what, is doing this. it must be something i’ve said. it must be those jeans i bought, the really expensive ones. they must have been tighter than i thought they’d be. they must have made me look like the FAT PIG i am. and that wasn’t enough for her because she seems to have decided that she’s going to make me even fatter.
i feel the lump rising in my throat and the tears pricking my eyelids. the cold sweat is beginning to form in little beads on my hairline. my hands are shaking too much to even contemplate picking up the fork.
95, 100, 150. the numbers are jumbled in my head and make no sense. how much do i weigh again? 130? 120? 110? i genuinely don’t remember, i just know that it’s not enough and never will be.
toomuchtoomuchtoomuch. i can’t eat this. i can’t. i won’t. i’m not throwing everything i’ve worked so hard for away. no, fatty. don’t pick up the fork. don’t. don’t do this to yourself – OH GOD it smells so good. my stomach hurts. when was the last time i ate? this morning? last night? yesterday. i can’t resist. my stomach grumbles, ordering me to get a move on.
with shaking hands, i pick up the fork and shove the pasta into my mouth. just one more mouthful and then i’ll stop, i promise. one more. one more. god, it’s SO GOOD I WANT MORE I NEED MORE I’M HUNGRY. one more, and that’ll be it. i’ll exercise it off when i go home. i’ll fast tomorrow. i’ll do anything.
within a minute, the whole dish is gone and i feel sick. i look down at the plate and i am repulsed by it, by myself. i regret eating it almost instantly.
“wow, you must have been hungry!” my father says from across the table and i begin to hate myself even more. i know what he must be thinking. i know what they’re all thinking, what they all know is true but are too kind to admit to me. fat.
i look down at my now empty plate again. the sauce and smell now make me want to throw up. the taste of basil in my mouth and the cramps in my stomach make me want to curl up into a ball and never leave my room again.
95 calories. 100. 150. toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.