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Meaning Of Frantic

this image to me describes schizophrenia because their are hands scraping and trying to get out and voices also, which is what schizophrenia is.


OMA’s Shenzhen Stock Exchange performs an impressive levitating trick while raising questions about the meaning of public space in China’s frantic marketisation

(Open.Action) "What's the little blinking light mean?" He asked, watching it. " It means... wait, blinking?!" His partner questioned, almost frantic. "Yeah, it's been doing that for the past five minutes." "Why didn't you tell me?!" "I didn't think you would listen... " He mumbles, knowing all too well about that. "It blinking is bad!" "Well, I figured that much out by now!" ( Credit to @cfcsquare )


Present Over Perfect: Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living

LIVE A LIFE OF MEANING AND CONNECTION Instead of pushing for perfection A few years ago, I found myself exhausted and isolated, my soul and body sick. I was tired of being tired, burned out on busy. And, it seemed almost everyone I talked with was in the same boat: longing for connection, meaning, depth, but settling for busy. I am a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, neighbor, writer, and I know all too well that settling feeling. But over the course of the last few years, I’ve le...

Make Your Bed - The state of your bed is the state of your head. Enfold your day in dignity. The five minutes you spend making your bed slows you down from your frantic, morning scrambling and creates a calm retreat to welcome you home at night. Plus, making your bed means you’ve already achieved an even more challenging feat: getting out of it | From #10TipsToAMindfulHome by #Zen Buddhist Priest #KarenMaezenMiller | #bed #mindful #greendesigngallery #consciousliving #greenhome #ecolifestyle


‘Run,’ a Verb for Our Frantic Times

Why “run” has surpassed “set” as the word with the most meanings.

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so. It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma -- the gifts given in desperation…