Chain. The name of the fourth novel I tried to write. The novel I wrote in eighth grade. How will I remember it? Will I remember it just like that? The novel in fifth grade, the novel in sixth grade, the novel in seventh grade, the novel in eighth grade. Even though I only wrote it for three months. Things change….our memories break and shatter, and we see distorted visions that convince us they are the truth.
I am not afraid of tangible things. “I’m afraid of…change.” I wanted them to ask me, but they didn’t…I wanted to say those words, but even if they asked me, I don’t know if I would have.
so everything that once was there had ceased to exist in any form known to man. it might have still been somewhere, but not in the links that once made up that chain that was her life. and she watched like from another world how each and every one of them crumbled into the abyss of nothingness
The chains were wrapped around her wrists in a tight formation, nearly cutting off her circulation. her head was bowed, ashamed, she could do nothing anymore. it wasn’t her fault. there wasn’t any other way of self defense. I watched her get into the car, the chains dragging on the ground making a god awful screaching noise that seemed to pierce the entire crowd.
straps that go around prisoners and such. keeping things where they’re supposed to be. something heavy. swing sets. uhm. uhhm. i think there’s a band. alice in chains..? something like that.. keeping something people contained. links.
Saw in a mill it was bad it was texas it was a movie. Culture popular it is everywhere in your brain in your mind in your life. Popular culture is a dangerous thing when that popular is all about violence. Popular cu
There’s a chainsaw over there. Back on the chain gang. You’re only as strong as your weakest link — in a chain link fence. Chain chain chain chain of fools. Chain drops keep falling on my head…what? Daisy chain. Chains and shackles.
The chain link fence was decorated with my father’s Christmas lights. My mother had complained to my father saying that he didn’t love her because he had not put up the Christmas lights yet. He spelled F***K you in the chain link fence with the Christmas lights.
alice in chains is a band i don’t know, but i would like to…. chains make me think about freedom. chains are sexy sometimes. chain makes me think about a
It’s terribly difficult to break the chains between yourself and the people that have hurt you so badly… that is when you have to learn to let go, and set yourself free.
My chains were broken, but it still had yet to be determined how I was actually going to escape. I knew that in a short while the guards would bring me food. I decided that it would be then that I would choose to make my escape, as the human body is oh so frail. They would suspect me to be held back, to be a pushover. Everyone makes mistakes.
Thank god it was the weekend. I cannot believe how stressed the move has made me! There is nothing I love more than a long, hot, sensual bath after working hard. The chain of the plug felt like velvet when I wrapped it round my toe as I stretched my neck back. I felt the tension crunch.
Oh, how this word brings back thoughts of you… I was supposed to forget.
I feel the metal gripping my skin, ripping it when I try to move, to fight its hold on me. I wish I didn’t crave the roughness. I wish I didn’t want to taste that crimson burn beneath the cold silver.
The chain bound me. I couldn’t stand, or even kneel, I was held there in place…painfully held in place, in a half crouch. I could feel the cold metal digging into my thighs, my arms…the blood trickling down from my sores.
I’ve never been able to figure out how chains are created. I know there must be some sort of steel melting process going on there, but whenever I try to figure out how I can make links of a chain by hand, I get stumped and I get angry. Then I’m prone to thinking about corporate ‘chains,’ which then makes me even angrier, seeing as for a great portion of my life these corporate chains took priority over human life, and i didn’t know how to make those either
The prisoner was chained in an underground dungeon. He was innocent but nobody knew. The guards threw him food and his fellow prisoners cursed him. They all thought he was the reason for all this curse in the country but he was the curse-breaker. He was their salvation.
The chains sat next to her feet. She had been set free, yet she still felt like an inmate. What was she to do now? Where was she to go? All she knew was what she had been told for the past forty years. Could she get up and walk away? Could she leave the only life she had known? What was preventing her from falling face first into the freedom she had dreamed about all her life. Fear became her advisory and the chains now looked more like friends then fo compared to the fear she felt when she thought of stepping into her freedom.
Held down by a chain
Unending pain
searching in the dark for light
There is no difference in wrong and right
Slowing drowning in the rain
Forever held down by this chain
The chain led from the cracked wall to the soft leather coler wrapped around his neck, just tight enough to make if hard to breathe, to have spots of light floating in his vision if he tried to move too suddenly.
Bien sûr la chaîne de la sinistrose peut être san fin.
Chain events linked by…a chain that holds you tight, chain your loved one, chained away, held back, chained feelings.
fun, perfect, cat, dog, rainbow, me, friends, glass, fun, love, no, 5, you, comb, marble, cute
The link in the chain is open a bit. What may slip through can change your life forever.?
The chain is not that stong, not metal.
Chain. The name of the fourth novel I tried to write. The novel I wrote in eighth grade. How will I remember it? Will I remember it just like that? The novel in fifth grade, the novel in sixth grade, the novel in seventh grade, the novel in eighth grade. Even though I only wrote it for three months. Things change….our memories break and shatter, and we see distorted visions that convince us they are the truth.
I am not afraid of tangible things. “I’m afraid of…change.” I wanted them to ask me, but they didn’t…I wanted to say those words, but even if they asked me, I don’t know if I would have.
seriously? no new word yet? this is jankkkkk!
Chains in your brain cause you to refrain from the men who explain the vain in terms so plain.
so everything that once was there had ceased to exist in any form known to man. it might have still been somewhere, but not in the links that once made up that chain that was her life. and she watched like from another world how each and every one of them crumbled into the abyss of nothingness
The chains were wrapped around her wrists in a tight formation, nearly cutting off her circulation. her head was bowed, ashamed, she could do nothing anymore. it wasn’t her fault. there wasn’t any other way of self defense. I watched her get into the car, the chains dragging on the ground making a god awful screaching noise that seemed to pierce the entire crowd.
straps that go around prisoners and such. keeping things where they’re supposed to be. something heavy. swing sets. uhm. uhhm. i think there’s a band. alice in chains..? something like that.. keeping something people contained. links.
Saw in a mill it was bad it was texas it was a movie. Culture popular it is everywhere in your brain in your mind in your life. Popular culture is a dangerous thing when that popular is all about violence. Popular cu
There’s a chainsaw over there. Back on the chain gang. You’re only as strong as your weakest link — in a chain link fence. Chain chain chain chain of fools. Chain drops keep falling on my head…what? Daisy chain. Chains and shackles.
The chain link fence was decorated with my father’s Christmas lights. My mother had complained to my father saying that he didn’t love her because he had not put up the Christmas lights yet. He spelled F***K you in the chain link fence with the Christmas lights.
alice in chains is a band i don’t know, but i would like to…. chains make me think about freedom. chains are sexy sometimes. chain makes me think about a
It’s terribly difficult to break the chains between yourself and the people that have hurt you so badly… that is when you have to learn to let go, and set yourself free.
there is this chain of friends that you can turn to when in trouble, if you have them- you are sooo lucky
If you don’t love me now- you will never love me again. I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain.
My chains were broken, but it still had yet to be determined how I was actually going to escape. I knew that in a short while the guards would bring me food. I decided that it would be then that I would choose to make my escape, as the human body is oh so frail. They would suspect me to be held back, to be a pushover. Everyone makes mistakes.
The chains of my former life bind me. Never will I let the memories go. Never will I be able to forget about what I did.
1
The chains of my former life bind me. Never will I let the memories go. Never will I be able to forget about what I did.
are you my chain? or are you my key?
are you
perhaps
both
Thank god it was the weekend. I cannot believe how stressed the move has made me! There is nothing I love more than a long, hot, sensual bath after working hard. The chain of the plug felt like velvet when I wrapped it round my toe as I stretched my neck back. I felt the tension crunch.
wear me like a pearl earring
so you’d hear me whisper
“you cannot be lovelier
than you are right now,
more than every girl
painted like a sunset,
or every other wing
on the sistine chapel”
and mistake it for just
another voice in your head.
Oh, how this word brings back thoughts of you… I was supposed to forget.
I feel the metal gripping my skin, ripping it when I try to move, to fight its hold on me. I wish I didn’t crave the roughness. I wish I didn’t want to taste that crimson burn beneath the cold silver.
The chain bound me. I couldn’t stand, or even kneel, I was held there in place…painfully held in place, in a half crouch. I could feel the cold metal digging into my thighs, my arms…the blood trickling down from my sores.
I’ve never been able to figure out how chains are created. I know there must be some sort of steel melting process going on there, but whenever I try to figure out how I can make links of a chain by hand, I get stumped and I get angry. Then I’m prone to thinking about corporate ‘chains,’ which then makes me even angrier, seeing as for a great portion of my life these corporate chains took priority over human life, and i didn’t know how to make those either
The prisoner was chained in an underground dungeon. He was innocent but nobody knew. The guards threw him food and his fellow prisoners cursed him. They all thought he was the reason for all this curse in the country but he was the curse-breaker. He was their salvation.
The chains sat next to her feet. She had been set free, yet she still felt like an inmate. What was she to do now? Where was she to go? All she knew was what she had been told for the past forty years. Could she get up and walk away? Could she leave the only life she had known? What was preventing her from falling face first into the freedom she had dreamed about all her life. Fear became her advisory and the chains now looked more like friends then fo compared to the fear she felt when she thought of stepping into her freedom.
Held down by a chain
Unending pain
searching in the dark for light
There is no difference in wrong and right
Slowing drowning in the rain
Forever held down by this chain
I have a new dog’s chain. and my dog love it. I’ll go arround the city with my dog and his new chain.
The chain led from the cracked wall to the soft leather coler wrapped around his neck, just tight enough to make if hard to breathe, to have spots of light floating in his vision if he tried to move too suddenly.