Your mind was not level when you left us. It was all over the place. Why didn’t you stay with me? I want you to come back down to earth, back down to me, to your family, your friends, everyone who knew you. Why did you have to leave us? Why did you have to leave us with such a horrible memory of your leaving?
What would happen if you stacked a level on a level, and it wasn’t level? Which one is off? How can we tell? What if level is just a concept we invented to represent an idea of perfection?
“Take him down to level three.”
– Kennedy’s sudden look of shock did nothing to ease the stern expression on Malloy’s face. Level three was where they took political prisoners and terrorists when they needed information fast. Suspects taken down there rarely came back up, and Kennedy could not believe they would now do those things to one of their own. Whoever had set him up had been thorough, and now he knew he only had seconds to figure out how to escape.
“What the hell am I supposed to do to beat this level?” Ash screamed into the headset at me as we played on Xbox live last night.
I shrugged, “I DONT KNOW MAN! Stop asking me, this is your game.”
Then all of a sudden we heard sirens outside passing by on the busy street, which really wasn’t anything new since he only lived a block from the 911 center down town, only they didn’t pass, they were in our yard. The lights flashed and voices too deep to describe could be heard alongside heavy footsteps up the crunchy gravely driveway leading up to the heaviest knock either of us had ever heard…
“Man, what did you do this time?”
once upon a time there was a man that worked on houses. He always carried around his trusty level. One day, the level gained sentience and tried to kill the man. he survived, but was forever scarred.
He crouches until your eyes are level, your violet irises gazing hesitantly but determinedly into his own empty, void-black ones. His eyes show nothing, show his lack of empathy, lack of anything that has to do with people like you. He never really did care, and you never did, either.
“You needed me,” he hisses.
“I don’t need anything from you,” you reply, spitting into his face and rising to your feet. You don’t need anything from anyone. You are strong. You are a universe. You are stardust.
there are certain levels in life levels of love, levels of fear, levels of energy, levels of patience, levels of everything. Everything has a level but to a certain extent depending on the person every person has their own levels.
I’m not there yet. I tell myself and mostly believe it. Sometimes I get that glimmer that maybe I’ve reached the level of being which is lit-up and extreme and beautiful and alive. And sometimes I stare at my crusty pyjamas and my old worn-in life and I think ‘I’m not there yet.’ But I’m still young. Young enough to be anything and dirty my life with choices wonderful and mundane, should I choose it.
I was at level 1 of the new arcade game in our local arcade. Suddenly, the arcade machine started emitting insanely bright lights. In all the confusion, I had found that I was sucked into the game. I picked up a nearby sword and went off.
“I’m gonna level with you. The pineapple stockpile is gettin’ pretty low, and we have no chance to get it back up again in time for the annual pineapple convention. You should have bought the pineapple insurance like I told you.”
Let me level with you.. this just simply isn’t what I once thought it was… this relationship? Friendship? Is it merely an existence of two souls? Where is the connection that I am so longing for? I feel like I must reach out for you but the distance is ever greater. A sea of unspoken words. Oh friend when did the distance become so great, how do I feel so alone each time we share our spaces?
the level of anxiety she felt as she took the short quick paced steps through the woods. as she got to the cabin she could not believe her eyes. there he was, fear rushed through her as she felt the need to
A level, every life, every step, every dimension, we lone one level, a level of light, of love, words.
I am your next level, your next live, I am you, only you space, you soul, you.
“Grace, I wanna help you but you gotta let me help you.” His voice was soft, comforting, and for a second I thought I’d finally found someone that actually cared about my life, my feelings…
“You gotta level with me, okay? No more of these secrets and stuff.” Alex then knelt down and took my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my new scars. It made me shiver. “Who’s doing this to you?”
I felt tears, but I fought them back. “Alex, you can stop worrying about me…I’m fine.”
I see this word and it hurts. It’s this concept of similarity. Everyone must be on the same level; everyone must be the same. Everyone must be a carbon copy. Why would you want to be level. Why would you want to be more than just you? Why do you have to accept what other say as what you are meant to be?
“You’re nowhere near my level, punk.” The stench of stale alcohol assaulted my nostrils as he leaned in closer to my face, and I wondered once more how the teachers never noticed he was almost always sloppy drunk during the day. “Don’t even try that crap with me, okay?” He gave me a rough shove before walking away.
We weren’t even on the same level anymore. Not academically – I had skipped two grades – not mentally or emotionally, not even physically. She was in a lower grade, but she was beautiful. I was the stereotypical nerdy four-eyes who allegedly needed a makeover like in the movies.
Still, she found time to call me. She still waved to me in the hallway when I hovered around my locker. And she even gave me little gifts during the holidays, some with little hearts squiggled on the cards.
Level with me. Become adjacent and juxtapose to me, stand aside me; level. Turn to the same page as I am, try, try, try to empathize. Try to play your mind into thinking that we are one. Because I need you on the same level.
“GET ON MY LEVEL!” I yell feeling dumb as it escapes my mouth, but I’m pissed. I kick her to the ground, and stomp on her arm. I can’t stop. I won’t let myself. She did this, and she has to pay. I’m sick and tired of being treated like I’m nothing.
I reach behind me, my eyes staying on the screen. I can’t find it, goddamn it. My food’s somewhere on the bed. I can’t turn my head… I can’t… I’m about to reach the final level. I can do this. I turn my head, and GODDAMN IT.
on level ground
with amazing people
will we ever get to their levels
there are so many things i want to do
and i get so lost in my thoughts
dreams
and aspirations
that
i end up doing nothing
is this what happens to everyone?
i am no davinci, I am aware
on the level, heading up to the right space, in the flow, letting things and people contradict you, rising to meet the contradiction with open eyes and a flexible mind. that’s a major level-up.
It was over. After years and years of trying, we both had reached the last level. It was the end. Or almost. I was spent, and I bet you were too. After so many battles, so many monsters, after all that time, we were over. We’re game over.
I need to be on your level. His level. Her level. That other guy’s level – because no matter how much success or happiness I find myself, who’s to say that I won’t soon be gazing up at some unattainable goal, looking at my own accomplishments with an indifferent shrug.
To tell you the truth it has been quite some time since I had a small baby at home, but trust me.. it was a period of my life that I will never forget. I was happy and scared at the same time. And for the new moms out there I want you to know that you are not alone. No matter how excited you are to be a new mommy, the constant care of a baby-demands can drain you. Find ways to take care of yourself so you can take a better care of your baby. Here is something that helped me a lot, and I always enjoyed talking it through with new moms..
The last thing you want to do right before bed is excite your baby. An overtired baby is often impossible to get to sleep. Setting an established bedtime is very important. Once you have that special time, he is ready for bed. According to me – ROUTINE is the key. To help your little angel understand when it’s bedtime, keep her room dark. When it’s time for her to wake up, whether in the morning or after a nap, open the curtains and let light in to help her understand the difference. Naps are also important to your baby’s mental and physical growth. Don’t skip naps in hopes that your baby will sleep longer at night, the opposite is usually true. Look for cues that he’s tired. He might rub his eyes, become whiny or yawn. And, if your baby is the type that wakes at night hungry, instead of waiting for her to wake up, feed your baby before you go to bed, while she is asleep. Don’t give your baby the silent treatment! Singing to your little darling is an excellent way to calm your baby, because In utero, your baby was used to constant sounds, like your beating heart and noisy stomach. Another important thing – always keep the sleep surface free of everything but the cutest thing in the room, your baby. Stuffed animals can be hazardous, increasing the odds of suffocation. A sheet is all he needs on his mattress. I have read that although lavender and other essential oils are known for their relaxation and anti-anxiety benefits, fragrances are not recommended for children less than 6 months old. So for those too young as well as those with sensitive skin or nose, try an unscented laundry detergent when washing crib bedding to reduce discomfort. Also, try natural fibers, like cotton, to avoid irritation. Don’t forget to cuddle with your little angel before bedtime, that way you make him feel more secure and loved, allowing him to sleep deeper and longer.
If nothing else, remember that everyone makes it through, and so will you. Stay healthy – stay happy !
As the elevator climbed up the 100 stories of greatness, my heart dropped back to level 1. My arms were shaking, but they still managed to keep my 100-page transcript from falling to my shoes. I was about to meet Mr. Wayne of Wayne Industries. My heart continued to beat faster, trying to pump my frozen blood. I tried to tell myself that dropping a copy of a transcript shouldn’t have to be this nerve-wracking, but it was no use, nervous feet glued to the floor of the moving elevator.
She was level-headed until it came to her brother. She loved her brother and she had raised him practically his entire life. If someone were to insult him in anyway she would lose her mind and her coolness vanished in a hot fit of rage.
I am very level headed. I wish that life was level. I don’t need curves and turns. Or ups and downs. I only want the straight and level. But wouldn’t life be boring then? Wouldn’t people have nothing to do or nothing to discover if everything was level in life.
I was on the level with him. We understood each other’s station in life. Our aspirations.
Now, how do I raise him to my eye level? These high heels are killing , me!
He raised his power to the highest level. It expended from his hands, his eyes. He shut them and tried to control it.
But power of this kind is hard to control. Pain streaked through his head, stabbing his brain.
Your mind was not level when you left us. It was all over the place. Why didn’t you stay with me? I want you to come back down to earth, back down to me, to your family, your friends, everyone who knew you. Why did you have to leave us? Why did you have to leave us with such a horrible memory of your leaving?
Level complete.
Mario ran off the screen as the end music rang and James wiped his brow. Man, Mario games were getting hard, he thought.
The mirror could not be hung level. It navigated a misplaced electrical outlet that pushed out seven sixteenths of an inch.
What would happen if you stacked a level on a level, and it wasn’t level? Which one is off? How can we tell? What if level is just a concept we invented to represent an idea of perfection?
“Take him down to level three.”
– Kennedy’s sudden look of shock did nothing to ease the stern expression on Malloy’s face. Level three was where they took political prisoners and terrorists when they needed information fast. Suspects taken down there rarely came back up, and Kennedy could not believe they would now do those things to one of their own. Whoever had set him up had been thorough, and now he knew he only had seconds to figure out how to escape.
“What the hell am I supposed to do to beat this level?” Ash screamed into the headset at me as we played on Xbox live last night.
I shrugged, “I DONT KNOW MAN! Stop asking me, this is your game.”
Then all of a sudden we heard sirens outside passing by on the busy street, which really wasn’t anything new since he only lived a block from the 911 center down town, only they didn’t pass, they were in our yard. The lights flashed and voices too deep to describe could be heard alongside heavy footsteps up the crunchy gravely driveway leading up to the heaviest knock either of us had ever heard…
“Man, what did you do this time?”
once upon a time there was a man that worked on houses. He always carried around his trusty level. One day, the level gained sentience and tried to kill the man. he survived, but was forever scarred.
Water rising to my ankles, my waist, chest, chin, a last moment of what air was before… realization of the deep dark blue.
He crouches until your eyes are level, your violet irises gazing hesitantly but determinedly into his own empty, void-black ones. His eyes show nothing, show his lack of empathy, lack of anything that has to do with people like you. He never really did care, and you never did, either.
“You needed me,” he hisses.
“I don’t need anything from you,” you reply, spitting into his face and rising to your feet. You don’t need anything from anyone. You are strong. You are a universe. You are stardust.
there are certain levels in life levels of love, levels of fear, levels of energy, levels of patience, levels of everything. Everything has a level but to a certain extent depending on the person every person has their own levels.
I’m not there yet. I tell myself and mostly believe it. Sometimes I get that glimmer that maybe I’ve reached the level of being which is lit-up and extreme and beautiful and alive. And sometimes I stare at my crusty pyjamas and my old worn-in life and I think ‘I’m not there yet.’ But I’m still young. Young enough to be anything and dirty my life with choices wonderful and mundane, should I choose it.
I was at level 1 of the new arcade game in our local arcade. Suddenly, the arcade machine started emitting insanely bright lights. In all the confusion, I had found that I was sucked into the game. I picked up a nearby sword and went off.
“I’m gonna level with you. The pineapple stockpile is gettin’ pretty low, and we have no chance to get it back up again in time for the annual pineapple convention. You should have bought the pineapple insurance like I told you.”
Let me level with you.. this just simply isn’t what I once thought it was… this relationship? Friendship? Is it merely an existence of two souls? Where is the connection that I am so longing for? I feel like I must reach out for you but the distance is ever greater. A sea of unspoken words. Oh friend when did the distance become so great, how do I feel so alone each time we share our spaces?
the level of anxiety she felt as she took the short quick paced steps through the woods. as she got to the cabin she could not believe her eyes. there he was, fear rushed through her as she felt the need to
he was at level with the table now, there were gun shots coming from either side, if he could just reach a little bit farth-
tanya screamed when she saw the body fall, s
Can’t level up past the point of no return. Dead is dead. And nothing more nothing less.
moon-owl, perched outside the stars
like something unworthy
and polluting…
but you are nothing but beauty
and grace and the sensations
one receives in free fall
A level, every life, every step, every dimension, we lone one level, a level of light, of love, words.
I am your next level, your next live, I am you, only you space, you soul, you.
“Grace, I wanna help you but you gotta let me help you.” His voice was soft, comforting, and for a second I thought I’d finally found someone that actually cared about my life, my feelings…
“You gotta level with me, okay? No more of these secrets and stuff.” Alex then knelt down and took my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my new scars. It made me shiver. “Who’s doing this to you?”
I felt tears, but I fought them back. “Alex, you can stop worrying about me…I’m fine.”
I see this word and it hurts. It’s this concept of similarity. Everyone must be on the same level; everyone must be the same. Everyone must be a carbon copy. Why would you want to be level. Why would you want to be more than just you? Why do you have to accept what other say as what you are meant to be?
“You’re nowhere near my level, punk.” The stench of stale alcohol assaulted my nostrils as he leaned in closer to my face, and I wondered once more how the teachers never noticed he was almost always sloppy drunk during the day. “Don’t even try that crap with me, okay?” He gave me a rough shove before walking away.
We weren’t even on the same level anymore. Not academically – I had skipped two grades – not mentally or emotionally, not even physically. She was in a lower grade, but she was beautiful. I was the stereotypical nerdy four-eyes who allegedly needed a makeover like in the movies.
Still, she found time to call me. She still waved to me in the hallway when I hovered around my locker. And she even gave me little gifts during the holidays, some with little hearts squiggled on the cards.
Level with me. Become adjacent and juxtapose to me, stand aside me; level. Turn to the same page as I am, try, try, try to empathize. Try to play your mind into thinking that we are one. Because I need you on the same level.
“GET ON MY LEVEL!” I yell feeling dumb as it escapes my mouth, but I’m pissed. I kick her to the ground, and stomp on her arm. I can’t stop. I won’t let myself. She did this, and she has to pay. I’m sick and tired of being treated like I’m nothing.
I reach behind me, my eyes staying on the screen. I can’t find it, goddamn it. My food’s somewhere on the bed. I can’t turn my head… I can’t… I’m about to reach the final level. I can do this. I turn my head, and GODDAMN IT.
on level ground
with amazing people
will we ever get to their levels
there are so many things i want to do
and i get so lost in my thoughts
dreams
and aspirations
that
i end up doing nothing
is this what happens to everyone?
i am no davinci, I am aware
NOT ON THE RIGHT LEVEL! Basic level, below it, bottom feeder, childlike, base,
Slow, scared
Scarred.
Only one more one more one more.
on the level, heading up to the right space, in the flow, letting things and people contradict you, rising to meet the contradiction with open eyes and a flexible mind. that’s a major level-up.
It was over. After years and years of trying, we both had reached the last level. It was the end. Or almost. I was spent, and I bet you were too. After so many battles, so many monsters, after all that time, we were over. We’re game over.
Biljana,
I can’t believe you wrote all that within one minute.
Or did you ‘copy and paste’?
Krys
I need to be on your level. His level. Her level. That other guy’s level – because no matter how much success or happiness I find myself, who’s to say that I won’t soon be gazing up at some unattainable goal, looking at my own accomplishments with an indifferent shrug.
levels are just numbers here
strength is just an illusion
this world, its just a game
~sword art online
To tell you the truth it has been quite some time since I had a small baby at home, but trust me.. it was a period of my life that I will never forget. I was happy and scared at the same time. And for the new moms out there I want you to know that you are not alone. No matter how excited you are to be a new mommy, the constant care of a baby-demands can drain you. Find ways to take care of yourself so you can take a better care of your baby. Here is something that helped me a lot, and I always enjoyed talking it through with new moms..
The last thing you want to do right before bed is excite your baby. An overtired baby is often impossible to get to sleep. Setting an established bedtime is very important. Once you have that special time, he is ready for bed. According to me – ROUTINE is the key. To help your little angel understand when it’s bedtime, keep her room dark. When it’s time for her to wake up, whether in the morning or after a nap, open the curtains and let light in to help her understand the difference. Naps are also important to your baby’s mental and physical growth. Don’t skip naps in hopes that your baby will sleep longer at night, the opposite is usually true. Look for cues that he’s tired. He might rub his eyes, become whiny or yawn. And, if your baby is the type that wakes at night hungry, instead of waiting for her to wake up, feed your baby before you go to bed, while she is asleep. Don’t give your baby the silent treatment! Singing to your little darling is an excellent way to calm your baby, because In utero, your baby was used to constant sounds, like your beating heart and noisy stomach. Another important thing – always keep the sleep surface free of everything but the cutest thing in the room, your baby. Stuffed animals can be hazardous, increasing the odds of suffocation. A sheet is all he needs on his mattress. I have read that although lavender and other essential oils are known for their relaxation and anti-anxiety benefits, fragrances are not recommended for children less than 6 months old. So for those too young as well as those with sensitive skin or nose, try an unscented laundry detergent when washing crib bedding to reduce discomfort. Also, try natural fibers, like cotton, to avoid irritation. Don’t forget to cuddle with your little angel before bedtime, that way you make him feel more secure and loved, allowing him to sleep deeper and longer.
If nothing else, remember that everyone makes it through, and so will you. Stay healthy – stay happy !
As the elevator climbed up the 100 stories of greatness, my heart dropped back to level 1. My arms were shaking, but they still managed to keep my 100-page transcript from falling to my shoes. I was about to meet Mr. Wayne of Wayne Industries. My heart continued to beat faster, trying to pump my frozen blood. I tried to tell myself that dropping a copy of a transcript shouldn’t have to be this nerve-wracking, but it was no use, nervous feet glued to the floor of the moving elevator.
She was level-headed until it came to her brother. She loved her brother and she had raised him practically his entire life. If someone were to insult him in anyway she would lose her mind and her coolness vanished in a hot fit of rage.
I am very level headed. I wish that life was level. I don’t need curves and turns. Or ups and downs. I only want the straight and level. But wouldn’t life be boring then? Wouldn’t people have nothing to do or nothing to discover if everything was level in life.
I was on the level with him. We understood each other, our aspirations.
Now, how can I reach his eye level? These high heels are killing me!
I was on the level with him. We understood each other’s station in life. Our aspirations.
Now, how do I raise him to my eye level? These high heels are killing , me!
He raised his power to the highest level. It expended from his hands, his eyes. He shut them and tried to control it.
But power of this kind is hard to control. Pain streaked through his head, stabbing his brain.