How to use Stupor in a sentence as a noun

Use stupor in a sentence.

So finally I get a hot male nurse come call on me- and of course I have to get my boobs out for him to do an ECG - #!$%@ sake!! Lucky I'm in too much of a drug #!$%@& stupor to care too much... Still waiting for theatre!

Thanks for all the birthday wishes. I have officially eaten so much I am in a food stupor. I will not have to eat for at least 2 weeks.

Day 3 of the flu, of which the ND loss only served to exacerbate. Nothing like a few days in a feverish stupor to make getting back to normal sound like paradise.

Ugh,, Doug has the flu, I'm in stressed out stupor ..I can't help an older child..and can't control the two whom are with me during the day, cuz I had no chance to configurate how a two year old and puppy plus a ten year old would add up! no one gets whom really is in charge! mee!! where's all my mojo!

Stuffed with tofu stuffed cabbage in a post run stupor-Its good to be home.

I don't know if I'm still in the stupor of falling asleep on the couch or what...but french toast sounds really good right now.

The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live. Sherwood Anderson 1927

"The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live." - Sherwood Anderson G

Yeah...got out of bed and stumbled in a wibbly wobbly stupor. Definitely sick.

The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live. - Sherwood Anderson #Brain pickings

"Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor... The point of being an artist is that you may live..."

E tutti camminavamo in stupor folle ritti sulle dieci dita dei piedi...

Very appreciative of the lovely young woman who woke me up on NJ Transit today and entertained me as I asked in a tired stupor if we had arrived in Hoboken yet on a completely empty train. Like where would I have wound up if she hadn't been so damn nice?

I got four hours of sleep last night. I spent most the day in a quiet stupor. Then I got into a conversation about last year's most disappointing movies, and now I'm all fiery and feisty and it's wearing me out.

FB asks, "what is going on, Dori". Well, I am sitting here listening to my son talk out in his anastetic stupor, laughing at him,eating whoppers, thinking I really like whoppers. I am so glad Katie bought me some.

The new pokemon game is going to be in 3d. My 5 year old self is creaming himself into a stupor right now.

Alright! Time to study for psychology! *sits down with computer* -two hours later- *comes out of an almost drunken stupor* Hunhwha? Where am I? What are all these tabs I have up? What the- "How to make Chinese lanturns?" Tarot card readings? Youtube? Why was I looking up "screaming llamas" on Yourtube? Dang it, internet, I was supposed to be studying! The age of technology is a gift and a curse.

In my half asleep/running later stupor this morning, I apparently left the tea kettle on the stove on high. No one was home all day so now the kettle has welded itself onto the burner. Hooray

Post hike stupor and crash. You bested me today snow covered AT!

At times one wonders if its worth the hustle. no sacrifice on the other side yet u r ready 4 watever. al wake up from this stupor. i will.

Delirium typically involves a disturbance in the level of consciousness and cognitive functions developing over a short period of time. The symptoms fluctuate from hour to hour, and often relatively normal moments are interspersed with periods of gross confusion. The level of consciousness may vary from somnolence and stupor to agitation and hyperarousal.

The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. - Sherwood Anderson

Palm wine and small stout on point! Lips are sealed but notwithstanding, I can't forget utility concept....utility maximizing...before diminishing return occur...lols. No coma, no stupor.

"The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live."

I awoke to the sound of whispering laughter My eyes half open I strain to see Heart pounding within me I try to move my body forward In my sleepy stupor I trip and fall From the ground I feel it now Footsteps closer Hold my breath! Wait Then comfort washes through me over me around me It is them The little ones playing in my personal playground Comforting and Sweet they play and dance Shall I join them? It is late, yet I am beckoned through the door My name spoken softly by a sweet singsong voice No need to fight this wonderful feeling I go walking through that veil though walking seems like flight As the door closes behind me I look I see the garden so full of life, Wonderful music playing through the trees The soft flames of candles hanging from the branches around There I am in the midst of it all watching smiling letting it take me further that feeling of complete surrender ................then emptiness

Taking guns away from law abiding gun owners because some lunatic used a gun in their lunacy, is no different from the government taking your car away from you because someone you never met got drunk and killed a car load of people in their drunken stupor.

"The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live" -Sherwood Anderson

In my tired stupor this morning before work, I made a sleepy time tea on accident... big mistake

Had a dream last night that every superhero I've ever seen got together and threw a dance party for my birthday. Batman waltzed me into a stupor. It was epic!! XD

This coffee isn't doing a damn thing! Wait, I should try drinking it first before I jump to conclusions--been sitting here in a stupor since 8am. LOL Let's get cracking!

"The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live."

One hour of a sleepy stupor and a strong cup of coffee to start the first last day of school. Lets do this!

My heart bears scars of mishaps bygone… Torn by winds and desert storms… Purged into darkness…and left alone… Dying…I was rescued by a Golden Lion… On my wounds was her grace… showered upon… A simple caring smile …and all the pain was gone… Awakened from a stupor, being forsaken and forlorn… Once a dark room… now has the curtains drawn… Sun kissed cheeks as the sunlight shone… I rise up to embrace… the new wonder, I am shown… In a mystical fantasy…there sits a Lioness on a throne… A glowing Goddess… and She shows me a crown…

And what would you do if having read to stupor and almost "plastered to the airline" as a result of books and just when u were about taking a deep sigh of an Ebenezeric-kind of accomplishment,u realize you still hav almost the same tin u'v read to cover? ......I laughed hysterically.....and say "All Izz well"

Fil gud to be alone at thiz evening n being stupor watching those kelakar budak here..

I've gone 24 hours without cold meds!! woot woot- it was a long 10 days in a drug induced stupor but now I think I'm finally getting better!

Dear Facebook. i forgot to add that I cannot find my long distance glasses and am now thinking I must have tossed them in the garbage while in a sick stupor. Can you find them for me please?

I just ate stone crab claws and decided they are an allegory for my life....If you need me I'm going to spend the rest of the week drinking myself into a stupor

People need to stop listing there every move. That's stupor to me. Get a life, you know who u are.. a job might take up some of that Facebook time of yours...luv always.....LOL.

The world is blind. Everything that you state is plain as day and they refuse to see it because of their illness - political correctness and delusional guilt. This generation has never known a war within its borders and perhaps that is why they are zombies. I pray that they will awaken from their stupor before it is too late.

Went to Walmart to buy Advil cold and sinus medicine and guess what? The pharmacy was closed and the meds were locked up behind the counter! Really MAN!!?! But I can go a few aisles over and buy all the patron I want! I am tempted to drink myself into a snotty stupor cause I feel so bad!

Amen..so tired of hearing the 20-somethings say this in their drunken stupor

I want everyone who wished me a Happy Birthday to know I really appreciate it! I had a wonderful birthday today. It was not great because I had a huge party, drank myself into a stupor or received a massive material gift. It was wonderful because God has blessed me with a beautiful family, friends, and my life itself! I have Peace and I have Joy! What more could I ask for?! Love you all!

It seems that lately, each day of my life is just a series of wasted seconds. I think that I would be just as well off if I woke up, drank myself into a stupor and passed out only to wake the next morning to do the same thing.

Sleeping in with harry and he squeezes my hand really hard out of nowhere. He wakes up in a stupor. Harry: Did I just squeeze your head really hard? Me: Yea what was that about? Harry: I dreamt that I was squeezing butter. Whaaaaa? ?

And in my drunkin' stupor i did what i should of never done, and now im here, talkin' to u drunk and on the run

In order to properly acknowledge that human Skynet has been nominated for the job of new 'Company' chief and Lord Sky-marshal of the greater drone fleet I think I will drink myself into a stupor tonight... then maybe drunk-order some Chinese food later.

Are you bastards in a drunken stupor or has our "club" crashed and burned? I told you we should have had vests!! Capt. Rudderbutt

I have to make a stupor twitter account for class. It goes against my personal morals!!!!!

I have to break out of my FB stupor, but I will leave you with this. I reserve the right to keep my comments to myself.

Wrote two chapters last night through my Tyelonol, caffeine, antihistamine stupor. Thank goodness for computers, if I had to hand write them it would've looked like I was writing through an earthquake.

I usually enjoy finding things from my drunken stupor the night before but I guess I snapped my debit card in half last night. Fail.

I thoroughly feel, as I scuddle through these south Philly streets, now more than ever that Mayfair if not all of the northeast is a breeding ground for failure a nowhere land filled with stuck minded comfortably rooted dislexiic diluted suburban type suckers with mental diahria and no desire to experience the ultimate gift, this is the general stench tho, I know you dreamers are out there beckOning for your chance begging to descend from this corner bar collegient fester, I implore you escape! Basically if I'm not living in a new city, or south Philly, with a few other dream weaving ambitous students within the next couple years I'll feel completely discontent and unrealized. I like it here, way more than my futal surburbia Mayfair with ur punk kids and weekend warrior drunk stupor. #!$% that. This city breathes it has a heart beat a pulse it craves confusions it sweats it's alive it says more more!

In a Nyquil induced stupor, I'd just like to tell all the women I've ever dated before... Yep, you blew it babe!! I am the real deal.

The up side of packing your suitcase while still in a flu induced stupor is that opening it was like Christmas morning- I had no idea what I would find.

These gloves belonged to "stupor mundi" He was married to Henry III of England's sister, and while he was a fascinating man and ruler he was a bad husband. The English princess died young and forgotten.

Morning stupor is in full effect. I just anticipated a wolverine would come greet me as I walked down the hall to go to the bathroom. Why!?

As it is written"God gave them a spirit of stupor,eyes so that thy could nt c nd ears so that thy could nt hear, to this very day; Romans ; 11 8-9 stay blessed frnds

I would like to sink into a lethargic stupor but it’s just too much work!

Two nights, zero hours of sleep, and my final fall-term paper still isn't complete. My first class of the term, today, is going to be verrry interesting. I anticipate hallucinations, inarticulateness, and general stupor.

Congrats Bama, now time to drink myself into a stupor

Dear neighbor from across the street: Maybe if you didn't loudly drink yourself into a stupor and sleep until 3 pm every day you would be able to plow your driveway during the day instead of at 11 at night, with your quad runner, while my mom is trying to sleep.

My emotions are passionate, my anger will turn your blood cold, my good mood would turn your cloudy sky to the brightest day, my love would keep you warm in the depths of the sea, my sadness would have you welcome death, and if you could feel as I do you would surely be overwhelmed and fall into mindless stupor

My political post are my slaps attempting to wake the sheep from their stupor.

Managed to sweat through 20 minutes of working out tonight before succumbing to a coughing fit/bronchial revolt. Day 1 of real road to recovery - done!! Take that asthma! Now to drug myself into a codeine-induced drug stupor to sleep tonight...

What happens in kavos, bunch of loud annoying pricks go to a tacky resort and drink themselves into a stupor whilst acting like a bunch of loud obnoxious twats.

Oh happy days!!!23 more days till my baby is able to drink himself onto a drinker stupor ..Whoever goes out with him on this night is the ones who he'll be staying with...he won't be puking in my house

Quote Examples using Stupor

-Tulpa- Last year I spent six months participating in what I was told was a psychological experiment. I found an ad in my local paper looking for imaginative people looking to make good money, and since it was the only ad that week that I was remotely qualified for, I gave them a call and we arranged an interview. They told me that all I would have to do is stay in a room, alone, with sensors attached to my head to read my brain activity, and while I was there I would visualize a double of myself. They called it my “tulpa”. It seemed easy enough, and I agreed to do it as soon as they told me how much I would be paid. And the next day, I began. They brought me to a simple room and gave me a bed, then attached sensors to my head and hooked them into a little black box on the table beside me. They talked me through the process of visualizing my double again, and explained that if I got bored or restless, instead of moving around, I should visualize my double moving around, or try to interact with him, and so on. The idea was to keep him with me the entire time I was in the room. I had trouble with it for the first few days. It was more controlled than any sort of daydreaming I’d done before. I’d imagine my double for a few minutes, then grow distracted. But by the fourth day, I could manage to keep him “present” for the entire six hours. They told me I was doing very well. The second week, they gave me a different room, with wall-mounted speakers. They told me they wanted to see if I could still keep the tulpa with me in spite of distracting stimuli. The music was discordant, ugly and unsettling, and it made the process a little more difficult, but I managed nonetheless. The next week they played even more unsettling music, punctuated with shrieks, feedback loops, what sounded like an old school modem dialing up, and guttural voices speaking some foreign language. I just laughed it off – I was a pro by then. After about a month, I started to get bored. To liven things up, I started interacting with my doppelganger. We’d have conversations, or play rock-paper-scissors, or I’d imagine him juggling, or break-dancing, or whatever caught my fancy. I asked the researchers if my foolishness would adversely affect their study, but they encouraged me. So we played, and communicated, and that was fun for a while. And then it got a little strange. I was telling him about my first date one day, and he corrected me. I’d said my date was wearing a yellow top, and he told me it was a green one. I thought about it for a second, and realized he was right. It creeped me out, and after my shift that day, I talked to the researchers about it. “You’re using the thought-form to access your subconscious,” they explained. “You knew on some level that you were wrong, and you subconsciously corrected yourself.” What had been creepy was suddenly cool. I was talking to my subconscious! It took some practice, but I found that I could question my tulpa and access all sorts of memories. I could make it quote whole pages of books I’d read once, years before, or things I was taught and immediately forgot in high school. It was awesome. That was around the time I started “calling up” my double outside of the research center. Not often at first, but I was so used to imagining him by now that it almost seemed odd to not see him. So whenever I was bored, I’d visualize my double. Eventually I started doing it almost all the time. It was amusing to take him along like an invisible friend. I imagined him when I was hanging out with friends, or visiting my mom, I even brought him along on a date once. I didn’t need to speak aloud to him, so I was able to carry out conversations with him and no one was the wiser. I know that sounds strange, but it was fun. Not only was he a walking repository of everything I knew and everything I had forgotten, he also seemed more in touch with me than I did at times. He had an uncanny grasp of the minutiae of body language that I didn’t even realize I was picking up on. For example, I’d thought the date I brought him along on was going badly, but he pointed out how she was laughing a little too hard at my jokes, and leaning towards me as I spoke, and a bunch of other subtle clues I wasn’t consciously picking up on. I listened, and let’s just say that that date went very well. By the time I’d been at the research center for four months, he was with my constantly. The researchers approached me one day after my shift, and asked me if I’d stopped visualizing him. I denied it, and they seemed pleased. I silently asked my double if he knew what prompted that, but he just shrugged it off. So did I. I withdrew a little from the world at that point. I was having trouble relating to people. It seemed to me that they were so confused and unsure of themselves, while I had a manifestation of myself to confer with. It made socializing awkward. Nobody else seemed aware of the reasons behind their actions, why some things made them mad and others made them laugh. They didn’t know what moved them. But I did – or at least, I could ask myself and get an answer. A friend confronted me one evening. He pounded at the door until I answered it, and came in fuming and swearing up a storm. “You haven’t answered when I called you in #!$%@&! weeks, you dick!” He yelled. “What’s your #!$%@&! problem?”. I was about to apologize to him, and probably would have offered to hit the bars with him that night, but my tulpa grew suddenly furious. “Hit him,” it said, and before I knew what I was doing, I had. I heard his nose break. He fell to the floor and came up swinging, and we beat each other up and down my apartment. I was more furious then than I have ever been, and I was not merciful. I knocked him to the ground and gave him two savage kicks to the ribs, and that was when he fled, hunched over and sobbing. The police were by a few minutes later, but I told them that he had been the instigator, and since he wasn’t around to refute me, they let me off with a warning. My tulpa was grinning the entire time. We spent the night crowing about my victory and sneering over how badly I’d beaten my friend. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I was checking out my black eye and cut lip in the mirror, that I remembered what had set me off. My double was the one who’d grown furious, not me. I’d been feeling guilty and a little ashamed, but he’d goaded me into a vicious fight with a concerned friend. He was present, of course, and knew my thoughts. “You don’t need him anymore. You don’t need anyone else,” he told me, and I felt my skin crawl. I explained all this to the researchers who employed me, but they just laughed it off. “You can’t be scared of something that you’re imagining,” one told me. My double stood beside him, and nodded his head, then smirked at me. I tried to take their words to heart, but over the next few days I found myself growing more and more anxious around my tulpa, and it seemed that he was changing. He looked taller, and more menacing. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and I saw malice in his constant smile. No job was worth losing my mind over, I decided. If he was out of control, I’d put him down. I was so used to him at that point that visualizing him was an automatic process, so I started trying my damnedest to not visualize him. It took a few days, but it started to work somewhat. I could get rid of him for hours at a time. But every time he came back, he seemed worse. His skin seemed ashen, his teeth more pointed. He hissed and gibbered and threatened and swore. The discordant music I’d been listening to for months seemed to accompany him everywhere. Even when I was at home – I’d relax and slip up, no longer concentrating on not seeing him, and there he’d be, and that howling noise with him. I was still visiting the research center and spending my six hours there. I needed the money, and I thought they weren’t aware that I was now actively not visualizing my tulpa. I was wrong. After my shift one day, about five and a half months in, two impressively men grabbed and restrained me, and someone in a lab coat jabbed a hypodermic needle into me. I woke up from my stupor back in the room, strapped into the bed, music blaring, with my doppelganger standing over me cackling. He hardly looked human anymore. His features were twisted. His eyes were sunken in their sockets and filmed over like a corpse’s. He was much taller than me, but hunched over. His hands were twisted, and the fingernails were like talons. He was, in short, #!$%@&! terrifying. I tried to will him away, but I just couldn’t seem to concentrate. He giggled, and tapped the IV in my arm. I thrashed in my restraints as best I could, but could hardly move at all. “They’re pumping you full of the good #!$%, I think. How’s the mind? All fuzzy?” He leaned closer and closer as he spoke. I gagged; his breath smelt like spoiled meat. I tried to focus, but couldn’t banish him. The next few weeks were terrible. Every so often, someone in a doctor’s coat would come in and inject me with something, or force-feed me a pill. They kept me dizzy and unfocused, and sometimes left me hallucinating or delusional. My thoughtform was still present, constantly mocking. He interacted with, or perhaps caused, my delusions. I hallucinated that my mother was there, scolding me, and then he cut her throat and her blood showered me. It was so real that I could taste it. The doctors never spoke to me. I begged at times, screamed, hurled invectives, demanded answers. They never spoke to me. They may have talked to my tulpa, my personal monster. I’m not sure. I was so doped and confused that it may have just been more delusion, but I remember them talking with him. I grew convinced that he was the real one, and I was the thoughtform. He encouraged that line of thought at times, mocked me at others. Another thing that I pray was a delusion: he could touch me. More than that, he could hurt me. He’d poke and prod at me if he felt I wasn’t paying enough attention to him. Once he grabbed my testicles and squeezed until I told him I loved him. Another time, he slashed my forearm with one of his talons. I still have a scar – most days I can convince myself that I injured myself, and just hallucinated that he was responsible. Most days. Then one day, while he was telling me a story about how he was going to gut everyone I loved, starting with my sister, he paused. A querulous look crossed his face, and reached out and touched my head. Like my mother used to when I was feverish. He stayed still for a long moment, and then smiled. “All thoughts are creative,” he told me. Then he walked out the door. Three hours later, I was given an injection, and passed out. I awoke unrestrained. Shaking, I made my way to the door and found it unlocked. I walked out into the empty hallway, and then ran. I stumbled more than once, but I made it down the stairs and out into the lot behind the building. There, I collapsed, weeping like a child. I knew I had to keep moving, but I couldn’t manage it. I got home eventually – I don’t remember how. I locked the door, and shoved a dresser against it, took a long shower, and slept for a day and a half. Nobody came for me in the night, and nobody came the next day, or the one after that. It was over. I’d spent a week locked in that room, but it had felt like a century. I’d withdrawn so much from my life beforehand that nobody had even known I was missing. The police didn’t find anything. The research center was empty when they searched it. The paper trail fell apart. The names I’d given them were aliases. Even the money I’d received was apparently untraceable. I recovered as much as one can. I don’t leave the house much, and I have panic attacks when I do. I cry a lot. I don’t sleep much, and my nightmares are terrible. It’s over, I tell myself. I survived. I use the concentration those bastards taught me to convince myself. It works, sometimes. Not today, though. Three days ago, I got a phone call from my mother. There’s been a tragedy. My sister’s the latest victim in a spree of killings, the police say. The perpetrator mugs his victims, then guts them. The funeral was this afternoon. It was as lovely a service as a funeral can be, I suppose. I was a little distracted, though. All I could hear was music coming from somewhere distant. Discordant, unsettling stuff, that sounds like feedback, and shrieking, and a modem dialing up. I hear it still – a little louder now.

Anonymous

Feeling sick and icky.. But still managed to make it to Victoria secret after an incredibly long day at work... Now that I'm sitting in the couch I don't feel like moving till tomorrow.. But at Least even with a cold I have my girly priorities in order... Make the money.. Spend the money... Stare at the beautiful pink and red bag while I slip into pre-flu stupor... I really hope I win and the flu loses... If that what it is that's lingering.

Anonymous

"Try to remain humble. Smartness kills everything. The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is so that you may live."

Anonymous

Threw up what little dinner I ate. Then I cry on the floor while i wait To see how much more. I hate Everything, and more: I hate Fate #!$% you everything but Fate should drop dead but First fate should be me for one day then die. Serves fate right. No more. No more. No more. Vomiting while my head twists and my hand scrapes blood from banging on the tiles and I can't do anything about it. I'm not done yet. Here t comes

Anonymous

I'm in. If no one reads my wall, this should be short. This is a Facebook game to see who reads posts, and who just scrolls. So, if you read this, leave ONE word on how we met. Only one word, then copy this to your wall so I can leave a word for you. Please, don't add your word and then not bother to copy.

Anonymous

The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live. You won’t arrive. It is an endless search.

Anonymous

Well the wound dressings were changed and all is looking good. Stopping the narcotics, and resuming some light activities. A couple of secondary items to get past and then I can get cleared to resume normal activities. Thanks for the many kind thoughts and prayers. Charlie

Anonymous

So, personally, I don't have really strong feelings about the gun issue, but in response to the calls to discuss the mental illness issue in America...I think that may be an even bigger can of worms that requires more finesse than can be mustered in our current social climate. Finesse and empathy. Oh....and bigPharma to release us from our medicated stupor.... No easy answers here. Take a good long look America, this is where we are at...we can't have enough guns to feel safe or enough drugs to stop the soul scream on all of our lips when we really start to think and feel. Everyone reacts differently, but we are all participating in the distress. I have no idea what the answer is, but I'm here to talk about it if anyone needs a safe space to voice soft feelings. It can be rough out there.

Anonymous

"The object of art is not to make salable pictures. It is to save yourself […] The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all of their lives in a stupor […] The point of being an artist is that you may live […] You won’t arrive. It is an endless search. […] There is a possibility of your having a decent attitude toward people and work. That alone may make a man of you." ~ Sherwood Anderson to his teenage son John...

Anonymous

"People are economic slaves taught how to work corporate jobs instead of how to survive. Taught to ingest chemicals as a cure to diseases instead of using natural herbal remedies. Taught to use money to go to a store where the food is genetically modified instead of taught to grow, hunt and make your own food minus all the additives. Taught to follow without questioning. Yet no body who lives like this sees this as illogical. And when told this most of you become angry with the truth because all you've been taught your whole life is deception. So when the truth hits you in the face you become so extremely angered that you call people like me crazy or delusional. I'm glad my eyes have been opened and my mind has been awakened from this illogical illusion of living. I'm grateful to know the things I know at 20 years old. Parents question their child's lies once they become a teenager, but look at the way most children are brought up: They are told a man in a red suit will bring them "presents" if they act "good" and do what they're told. That one little piece of deception bases a whole life of deception, and only the strongest of minds are able to see it for what it really is without foolish justification. Little do most know that this tradition keeps people in the state of mind that everything will be given to them if they follow the agenda society has sat out for them. I no longer want to follow society around like a mindless individual who does what they're told without questioning the obstacles." Luke, no pun intended.

Anonymous

You know, Dublin was the place where it all started. This. I remember wuite vividly that I wrote my very first song in Dublin, as in pen and paper and structure. I was 9 or 10 at the time and amusingly I imagined I was all grown up and a successful musician and that I was singing this song. It was called "Feeling like a kid again". And it was written in a notebook with spicegirls on the cover. Now that i came back, to these strange rootes of mine, the town of the first song, I hope it will mend my stupor and crative block. And maybe I will feel like a kid again, with my imagination running wild.

Anonymous

Gen 9. More curious stuff about Noah that didn't make the children's books. After God makes the covenant and gives the okay for man to eat meat, Noah becomes a winemaker. One night, Noah's son Ham sees his father naked and passed out drunk. He tells his brothers, Shem and Japheth, who cover their father. Noah, outraged, curses not Ham, but Ham's son Canaan to be subject to Shem and Japheth.

Anonymous

We never learn from the history. We commit the same mistake again and again, his story= history should be explored, recorded, words, acts, craziness, cowardice, humor, elation,satisfaction, self-promoting, self-justification, objective, subjective views, conventional, radical, wise, ignorant, laziness, earnest living, faith, belief, delusion of grandiosity, illusion, visual also tactile also hearing, delusions, paranoid, phobic, schizophrenic, genius, thinking, thought disorders, self-indulgent, perception, impression, ego, id, talkative, mood in blues, incongruous with affection, positive and negative, stupor, stupidity, wisdom. All of the above that we are. Buddha said, pu dusin gor ohn ma da gaw, everyone is mad. What an insightful saying? pride, prejudge, judge and jury all rolled into one. execution, salvation, impression, persecution, prosecution, oligarchy. What is it?

Anonymous

It “is” what it “is” That is what is said But what is, is Is.. is a verb It means to exist Abide, act, be alive, breathe, continue, do, endure, go on. Have being, have place, Old, inhabit, live, move, obtain. Persist, prevail, remain, rest, stand, stay, subsist, and survive. So as you can see Life “is what it “is” Cathy Hamilton Sept. 27/2011 day at the Vet's the Dr. said "It is what it is" I have heard this so often, and remembered I had wrote a little ditty about it a while back. so here it is.

Anonymous

He stared dumbfounded as his godlike leader fell in battle, yet in the midst of the stupor a realisation hit. They could not falter in their bid for glory. Their cause was righteous, the need was great, the forces of evil could not win. Kall ducked and wove his way through the melee to stand astride the corpse of his leader. Picking up the sword of Hope, he defended the body with all his strength and skill. The royal bodyguard and standard bearer stood with him, protecting the body and by sheer luck and determination forced a stalemate with the forces. Yet all was not one, for the enemy parted to reveal the real enemy, the sorcerer. He wielded his axe of dread like he was born with it. He motioned for Kall to join him in a duel to the death, with the weight of the world on his shoulders he stepped forward to meet his destiny.

Anonymous

The light is derelict- the apathetic smog of January- the kind that lingers ominously like a supernatural presence. It always is the way in Winter, yet somehow this uncanniness and melancholia coalesces with my character, my history. I, by my very nature, am closed off as Winter is. We are both peripheral. We are both detached and incomplete, forever alienated. My door is covered in a percolating twine of ivy leaves, and its dual nature is the frozen expulsion of winter, the repellant, the retorting. We both purge the excess, the abject. My throat is hoarse and scratchy like woollen mittens. Neither of us speak. Clambering agitatedly up the sonorous terrain of road my eyes transfix upon the silhouette of a sheeps' corpse. It was lying solitary in the wilderness as though expelled by Winter'squest to exterminate the weak-hearted, to purge out the excess. I realise nature is crude yet non-judgemental. It does not care or yearn or attach. We can either reside in it or retort against its spontaneity. Its conveyer belt is continuous and envelops my being in a cocoon of obliviousness. Until something drops and absence fractures my spirit. My mouth seizes up. I drop, dilapidated and inconsolable to the earth and wail and kick and scream until my throat is dry and I can't speak. There is no grace in caring, in loving for we lose everything we love. I walked on, the image of this barely distinguishable corpse etched as a noema on my retinae. After seeing so many I once loved deceased, I spent many long hours sitting absently in cemeteries. I liked to hear the birds conversing, filling the fatness of an-ever effusive silent vacuity-questions that were never asked-and never answered. I wondered if I too would be left to decompose in the sodden earth, left to wilt into that from which I came. It made me remember those many years ago when I sat idle in my bedroom watching the clock catatonically- waiting for one minute to merge into the next, eyes split between numbers and lethal concoctions with which I could erase myself. For good. Forever. I shudder. Cold forboding goosebumps snake up my spine and a tiny rivulet of sweat snakes protrusively downwards. Down. I am nothing. I remember planning my death, researching the most successful methods by which one can commit suicide. Repulsed by my own dumpy white flesh I could only purge, dispel the imperfections one by one. I even dispelled my laughter, manic and frivolous, I cut off the oxygen supply and bobbed listless under the surface. Starvation was not enough- with tubes and monitors and bedrest and fortisip and ensure… too many people noticed. They intervened and chained me, ever resilient to their conquest by which I would be re-nourished. My laughter would be sewn back into me, like eyes been stitched to a doll’s face. My fate would not be within MY control. I would belong to them, to society. I needed something more, something concrete. Each moment I am aware of a flutter, a pulse, a sensation. Paranoia whispers sweet nothingness into my ear. My hands quiver ever so ever so slightly and it scares me. My mind hyperventilates. I need to slow down, ingest the silence that rises in a smog around my vessel but I am restless. My hand always seeks a way to elude me, to caress tentatively then tear out tufts of golden hair from an abject bald area on my scalp. I beg her to stop, to go, to leave me one measly moment of peace, a head of glossy unadulterated hair. But the abuse she hurls at me is apparent by the thinning stupor of my once robust mane, the mane I was so frequently told was beautiful and rich and iridescent. Tears fat with loathing slant obliquely down my cheeks, because I just can't be like them. I can't piece together. I can't match up. I long for wholeness; a peace that can amalgamate with this corrosive silence that haunts me. I have so much to do, so little time. I wasted too much of that in the countless cemeteries I sat in, blank and anonymous. Idling time away on my laptop becomes fatal, destructive and turns me inward, with my back to the world. I scrutinize every body that consolidates my own on Facebook and compare the size of my cheeks, the size of my frame, my thighs, my biceps, my abs in tantalizing scrutiny. My own inherent sense of inadequacy mocks me and laughs torrents of vindictiveness in my face. All I see are bones, pinched faces and sinews. Everywhere. Otherwise I see pretentious smiles, piercing eyes that are electric with passion and vigor that says " I am better than YOU." It only starts off the cacophonous screaming and abuse that drowns my voice in a swath of hatred and self-demise. Dumpy. Morose. Invisible. Fat. Unintelligent. The thoughts are persistent, relentless in their quest to de-seat me. I feel weak at their mercy, my once amiable sense of adequacy shatters within my aura of brittle selfhood and I squirm defenseless in the undertones. Numbers flicker evanescently in my mind. I begin to count, numbers upon numbers upon numbers. There is a comfort in them, a sweet solace that is impenetrable. Lists and lists of numbers. Numbers of calories. Numbers of reps. Numbers of grades. Numbers of age. Numbers of weight, of height, of BMI. They are medicinal, prescriptive and so ever descriptive. I spent years colluding with numeracy, with mathematics conjuring a way to exterminate the weakness in me, the faint echo of a sound. I want no sound. Now there is nothing but you, and I. The glass is cracked and I finger it, unscathed by the fact my flesh could be torn apart, gaping and churning out torrents of abject blood. I don’t care. I don’t #!$%@&! care. It is almost as though I am tempting fate, playing with destiny. I’ve done this so many times before, and somehow I cannot stop. I cannot cease to measure myself ostracizing my flaws, scrutinizing my superficial as well as intellectual traits against others. I feel useless, utterly disintersting, disnengaging, inanimate. I am dead. I outstretch a white scarred arm before me and laugh a jeering laugh. It is not a happy laugh. If I didn’t laugh I would cry until my throat would seize up, again. Without this noema I feel dissociated, absent from the jarring voices and patterns around me. I need to be grounded, I need to feel real. I wriggle each finger and count within my mental continuum of consciousness. Two hours until I eat. No. One hundred and nineteen minutes. Panic infuses through my system. I can’t survive so long, so tediously long without it. I long for that venom, that addictive lure that pulls so strongly, that gravitates me towards that which I most passionately hate.

Anonymous

Sooooo... weird dream. There is me and a bunch of couples all chilling in water. Unknowingly naked. Im the third wheel so Im like "okay, okay, what am I doing here" and this girl just comes out of the water and starts like wrestling me and play fighting so I'm like "cool" lol I start playing along and then the room topples, and flips upside right. I go flying out of the water, everything exposed, and I remember a comment a girl had said when I fell out and it was like " holy, hes curved " .. Just embarrassed at the fact of being exposed I struggled back into the water, and then, the dream took a sidestep and we all ended up going down this tube, lasted for like 5 minutes but it was like 2 ft by 2 ft and I couldnt even fathom how we all were sliding down such a small tube while sitting upright. I yell out "Amanda, turn on the lights" meaning use your lighter cause its pitch black so shes like alright, she snuggles up close to me and shes tryna flirt with me, but amandas are nothing but bad luck so im like "whatever, lets keep goin" lol. The ride ends and we end up in like this fish factory and we landed on the conveyor belt and we're all going along, but most of these people have dissipated by now, its just me and this girl. As we go down the conveyor belt it turns into a candy cane factory, and then I realized "oh #!$% I'm dreaming, I really need to wake up" , and I woke up in kinda like a stupor state . The End Anyone know what this could mean? xD

Anonymous

A woman goes to the doctor all black and blue .. Doctor: "What happened?" Woman: "Doctor, I don't know what to do. Every time my husband comes home drunk he beats me up." Doctor: "Does he beat you every night?" Woman: "No, just when he comes home drunk". Doctor: "I have a real good medicine for that. When your husband comes home drunk, just take a glass of sweet tea and start swishing it in your mouth but don't swallow. Just keep swishing and swishing until he goes to bed in his drunken stupor." Two weeks later the woman comes back to the doctor looking fresh and reborn. Woman: "Doctor that was a brilliant idea. Every time my husband came home drunk, I swished with sweet tea. I swished and swished, and he didn't touch me!" Doctor: "You see how much keeping your mouth shut helps?"

Anonymous

Criminal MasterMind of the Day-----------------An unemployed sanitation worker in Miami is also facing life in prison -- for shooting himself in the privates. In a drunken stupor, the man reached for a pistol he had hidden in his pants. The gun went off, and the bullet struck the man in the... nuggets. At first, he told officers someone else had shot him, but changed his story after paramedics found the shell casing in his underwear. Cops ruled the shooting accidental, but the man was charged with a concealed weapons violation and possession of a firearm by a convicted felon. The maximum sentence for those crimes is normally 15 years but, because the man has a record as a violent career criminal, a Miami prosecutor is asking the judge to send him away for life. The man's public defender calls that "riDICulous," and says the man's injury is punishment enough...................Well thts all i have to say about that, lol.

Anonymous

This is for the man I just saw singing and dancing with himself outside the drug and alcohol in-patient treatment center. Dear sir, I'm glad you are having a good time. Enjoy your 30 day free vacation here in beautiful and historic Bridgeport. This was the home of PT Barnum, after all. Please remember to hit the buffet as well, because it's all on me. Yes, your entire bill, paid in full by me, and every other working stiff. I don't remember seeing any real ship board entertainment during any of the hundreds of transports to the hospital I've taken out of there before, so let me know and I'll drop of some Jarts, or maybe horseshoes? You and all of your friends really deserve a 30 day break, from all of the drinking, drugging, not working, and swiping your state card. Your wrist must be sore!! But obviously your dance moves haven't suffered. So feel free to make anywhere your public dance floor!! I'll just be over here, working, barely paying my bills and mortgage, and paying all of those inflated taxes, and enjoying the show. I mean really, since I'm paying, lets see some more sweet moves!!

Anonymous

Oh my god! I'm sliding towards being a vegetarian. How did this happen? Yesterday I had oat meal for breakfast, beans and cornbread for lunch, bake potatoes for dinner. Somehow I'm not dizzy or still sleeping. Woke up this AM from a dream about me hugging a tree and saving the environment. And now I'm eating apple-butter on wheat toast....... OMG....

Anonymous

"she'll still be sweet, she'll still flirty, because she knows the classic. they're pretty dirty. that means late at night she'll have me in a stupor because we'll reenact the raunchy bits from Jerry Cooper. some guys prefer asses, some guys prefer tits. i'm not saying that i don't like those bits. what's more important. what supercedes is a girl with passion, wit, and dreams. so i like a girl who reads."

Anonymous

Barb Klein I love this site! Although I do not get on the computer as much as I would like, and I do spend a lot of time just sitting in kind of a numb stupor due to my fatigue and my cognitive issues, it is nice to come here to find other MSers and friends. Sometimes I have a question, but more of the time I have comments for others. I have had MS for at least 32 years, although it was not properly diagnosed until 2003. They still call it Relapsing-Remitting, even though things got so bad that in early 2010 I had to stop working due to the worsening of symptoms, and new problems popping up every day. I say kudos to all of us living with MS, whether you have it or you are with someone who has it... friends, family members...

Anonymous

Here is something i've learned. when forever socio-economic karma you well, i found myself kind of spooked, but in a funny kind of way. anytime i went out where gail was, this dog of steve's was there, and in a funny kind of way i understood that he would kill me if he crossed some line, and he hadn't figured out real clearly what that line was, and it seemed to fluctuate depending on the intensity and type of intoxicant we was delierious on at the time. hey. steve's a poet. he calls his dog one authentic dawg. it's steve there's a competition on. if it's too much for you, little boy. if it was a puzzle steve set for me to tease out, i have to admit i never saw one except flight. there was no approaching the guy without having it out right then and there. that's all he understood of approach. i could buy him. i didn't understand his coin of exchange. he was a beast, a guard dog, and he kept me in check. i assume on steve's direction although he may have acted on his own. i never spoke to steve about it. those things are just worked out without words. this is what poetry is. there nothing frosty about it. it's mano 2 mano. so, when he was knifed down, that was god, to me. that was all the spiritual liberation i needed. and if you can't understand that, then you can't understand nothing. you go, kanye. you once had a fire. now you're more a pot-belly stove.

Anonymous

Proper Noun Examples for Stupor

Plublic annoucement re post love how my peoples think i swear Always remember that one day all this drug monkey business will be legal. They won't leave it to people like me... not when they finally figure out how much money is to be made - not millions, #!$%@&! billions. Recreational drugs PLC - giving the people what they want... Good times today, Stupor tomorrow. But this is now, so until prohibition ends make hay whilst the sun shines.

Always remember that one day all this drug monkey business will be legal. They won't leave it to people like me... not when they finally figure out how much money is to be made - not millions, #!$%@&! billions. Recreational drugs PLC - giving the people what they want... Good times today, Stupor tomorrow. But this is now, so until prohibition ends make hay whilst the sun shines.

Registration for Stupor Bowl 16 is now open. Sign up now and avoid long lines the day of.

Related Sentences for Stupor

Twelve miles at night and on Myakka trails is twice as hard as you can possibly imagine, also twice as satisfying to have done it. I only fell seven or eight times. We only got lost once. Seriously, go outside and play!

"I'm shocked at the whole thing," Fortna said. "I'm surprised she didn't defend herself." Mike Witmer, a 32-year-old maintenance technician who lives across the street and about 50 yards from the Hains, said, "I'm a big hunter, and I support gun rights and I own guns," he said. "I just think sometimes guns get into the hands of the wrong people and tragedies happen."

Poll time People. Let us know what you want covered more on this page. Just add from 1-3 topics below. Thanks for the support!

Hobbit- ehhy! I cant knock the CG but its waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay to long an infomercial for the NZ tourist board.

So, I just ran a bunch of errands, where I interacted with no less than 3 different people directly, with my jacket on inside out.

"We could celebrate Richard Nixon's 100th birthday, but it would be wrong."

In reference to Jamie Miles status and playing "Call me maybe" as the "on-hold" music.....

My dad asked me 'how many times does the baby wakes up at night?' I think the more appropriate question is 'how many times does the baby go to sleep at night!' Haha

Kids are chillin, Bella's napping, house is a mess.... Yep I am going nap too the house will have to wait!

"You can not dream yourself into a character, you must hammer and forge yourself into one" - Henry David Thoreau

It should be illegal to go through life without seeing Perry Pelonero naked.

Creepy dude sitting next to me: You are too vocal. I shouldn't hear you swallowing your coffee, especially considering how hot is sounds from all that slurping. And please stop sighing as if you want someone to ask "You okay?"

Nobody's perfect.... but a lie is intentional....so before using the "Nobody's perfect" excuse....how honest are you? #DoBetterBeBetter

My daughter just said are you gonna clean the house And shower today? I said yeah why? She said good cuz you need to stop being lazy! Well excuse me for skipping a day of cleaning. What are you the shower nazi?

Legitamacy class....really?? Be nice...untill its time not to be nice. Legit

Pretty sure a fan just told me he's going to kill himself because I said I have a boyfriend.

Millions in spending unaccounted for, children going to bed without proper roofs over their heads, and a leader that puts her lover on the payroll and lashes out at any criticism of her rule... Sounds more like a third-world dictatorship than Canada, eh?

"There is a kind of shrewdness many men have that enables them to get money. It is the shrewdness of the fox after the chicken. A low order of mentality often goes with it."

Chris I have to say I was thoroughly and utterly disappointed with the way Mrs. Collins chose to end her trilogy.

I liked it better when I fell asleep the first time last night, trying for a second time round well that's just annoying.

Haib - Personally i find Walcott a very overrated player, hes decent but still isn't world class and defs is never worth 90k pw. Another overrated Arsenal player i think is Vermaelen.

Seems I've become addicted to all your wants and ways I never thought at anytime you didn't want me, too From the moment we first met I thought we would go the distance If I could have one fantasy I'd relive my life with you

There once was a man named Macon and he surely loved his Bacon he never gave it up for lent so in his stomach it went now he is a hella happy gent and his bacon was never forsaken

Did anybody else just have two mini earthquakes in their home? I'm wondering if a big boulder fell on the mountain again? It was really loud!

I will be heading to cold Boston- then Maine to be with my daughter after cancer surgery on Janurary 24th - prayers for her please.

A man walks up to a wounded bear in the woods. ________________ Whoever comes up with the funniest end to this story in one sentence gets a quick sketch of whatever they like.

Today I actually told someone "Thanks for being part of Direct Deposit." The result of simultaneously trying to talk and read the email that the boss just sent. It's like I always say--Multi-tasking: doing two things badly at once!

Was that a college cheer scout eyeballing my baby girl?.. Yeah.. That just happened.. #shamelessmombragging

Gun clubs say they are getting tons of new business training teachers to use guns. Will more guns in schools deter future shooters or just make things worse? Let us know what you think. We'll throw them up on TV!

I am desperately needing a Kindergarten tutor ? And yes, I can read and write very well.......and do other things, however a teacher I am not. I just can't grasp how to teach someone to read.....it's just one of those things that comes natural......isn't it? I have never had this problem before.

Has anyone that liked this page ever had a lucid dream or sleep paralysis, if you have fancy telling me what was it like. -J

Heavenly Father, I love you so much. But why do you have to confuse me? A straight answer would be greatly accepted at the moment.

One mile run, full body lift, and an hour and fifteen minutes on the bike while getting my reading done for class and even watching an episode of Arrested Development. Success!

Rant of the day. I am sitting here wondering why congress does not shut down alcohol brewerys or plants? Alcohol kills more in the US than guns so does medical malpractice. So why take away our guns or create laws that the criminal does not care about the will be more pron to conduct the illegal act? Why does our political officalls receive protection under the second amendment and why do the people who work for us we do not work for them want to take so much?

This is just awesome. I love the tweeted comments from the journalists in attendance.

Truly embarrassing non performance by clearly the most clueless , inexperienced & dire team we've ever somehow had the misfortune to concoct & given something naive tactics - I despair at how humiliating this season has turned out. The club needs radically sorting out from top to bottom. Furious!

Well this has been an amazing trip. Played some great golf courses with some great friends. The only bad thing I can think of is that I have eaten an excessive amount of Milk Duds.

Seriously do people not lock their car doors. Just sat in a van that wasn't mine until I realized that my keys would not start it..

Well guys... I've been taking a wee look at the insights of our page, and I am very pleased to see that we are getting likes as far away as Hong-Kong! Also, please share this page with your friends, so far today we've gotten over 70 likes! The most likes in one day for us. Thank you so much guys, love you all! - Ricochet

I dislike when people don't say thank you. But ill keep being nice anyways.

Who in Pakistan will raise their voice for this poor girl? Who in Pakistan has any shame or sensitivity left?

Hey is anyone else getting freind request accepted and didnt send out any friend request??????????????????

"The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it". -Albert Einstein

Okay, now what is up with these pink headlight lashes? And I thought the reindeer antlers/nose were obnoxious!

Apesal sume sal result neh? kaw knp? stress ke syud? haha..Norsyuhada Zaharudin

Richard was a consummate master of our craft. He was also one of my most treasured friends for more than 35 years. Already I miss him deeply. Please let me know if anyone learns of funeral

OK Facebook friends....as many of you know, I swore off the NHL a few weeks ago. Now that the lockout has been resolved, some of you have asked me if I'm going to keep to that. I've decided to let you, my friends decide. What do you think? Should I continue to enjoy my favorite sport, or stick to a knee-jerk decision made out of drunken frustration?

Why can this highly educated person never remember what floor she is parked on in the parking garage when she gets off work? Ugh I think I have early onset Alzheimer's. :\

Morning! I recently read an article about today's students being convinced of their own greatness, regardless of whether they've accomplished anything. I'm interested in what you think -- Do they have a greater sense of entitlement ? Do you think they're more narcissistic? ~Natasha

:: Apeteceu_me Gritar aos quatro ventos o quanto te AmOoooo " K " *•*

Anyone else have paralyzingly nightmares where they think they're awake but they aren't and can't move? All the while dreaming something bat #!$% crazy and waking up screaming? Yeah at this point ill take insomnia back.

Because life is too short we should give praise where it is due and condemn when necessary. just one word of encouragement or disapproval can change a person's life and make the world a better place.

D-Beat was invented so that lazy people could mosh too.

Welp....looks like I gotta case of the insomniacs tonight.

Yep. i feel a nervous breakdown comming on, i am well over due

What a lovely way to finish my vacation. Coffee and inspirational conversation

So I'm Skiing at the red barn, an Barn owl looks down at me and says to his fellow owl is do you think he's dead yet? he says no dinners not read yet! what should I do?

Is it just me or are Brent Musberger's comments about McCarron's girlfriend a bit odd?

Hey guys. I don't know what's going to happen when the bass drop hits, so I'll try and get this in before it hhfhbcbjbg bbnbBbg hhfhbcbjbg gvb. Hb vbbhbvh. Gb dbhnjjbjbhbhj -hbgjmjjUbffsbbbhklok

That's why I don't understand this notion of ignorance is bliss, some of the most inspiring souls and individuals have been random street gurus that had a drug problem and no one listened to them

It is unforgivable for refs to blow calls that badly in such a big game. The receiver called fair catch too late and the ND guy never even touches him. Does Alabama really need help from the zebras? Pathetic.

Jesus, the same yesterday/today/forever, will still come find you in the middle of your storm and command "peace be still."

Stupor definitions

noun

marginal consciousness

See also: grogginess semiconsciousness stupefaction

noun

the feeling of distress and disbelief that you have when something bad happens accidentally

See also: daze shock