burning makes me think of flames; rupa thinks of firs and hot Joan of Arc, witches, salem, writing writing train, fire, bonfire, s’mores, christmas, fireplace, fight between me and my soul. workout. burning muscles. lactic acid. love. desire. rubber tires. virginia woolf. pigs. candles. to the lighthouse. hawaiin.
Well I’m pretty sure I already wrote about burning yesterday, but right now I’m thinking of petals, dried on the dead vine. Still retaining some pale color of what they once were, they are plucked unceremoniously and put into a fire.
I was in my room and Caden was baking some chocolate strawberry brownies and everything was going fine until i smelled this burning smell. The smoke alarm started going off and when I went out into the living room and there was smoke everywhere. I was trying to find him, i yelled his name and finally found him. He took the brownies out and they were all shrived up, black and brick hard…
The food was burning in the oven because somebody forgot to take it out and let it cool! It was starting to let off a burnt scent which then i knew that it was burning.
The hills are burning. My throat is burning. Everything hurts. Everything. Maybe it’s loneliness…maybe my loneliness burnt the San Gabriel Mountains down. Magical realism. A novel in Spanish where it all burns down.
Like bonfires in deep November they burned across the city, these pockets of broken humanity. The bats would flit between them, known but unseen, and chatter their secret speech across the skies. The last of our schools and hospitals burning to the ground, their forgotten value just embers on the scorched politic.
At first it was just a warmth in her heart. It was almost as if she was missing something she never knew she needed. As she swallowed the flames, she relished the way her soul drank it up and took it in, filling her with heat. This was the magic she was meant for. The burning brilliance of fire danced from her fingertips. Her heart burst and she grinned. She was the sun’s daughter.
The heat singed her arms as she made her way across the desert. The sun lashed out in it’s fury and baked the land that had once been teeming with life. Ava didn’t know who had cursed this kingdom, but whoever they were….they were filled with hate.
The burning desire for liberation from the misery of the human birth is actually easier sadi than done. We fear the liberation and yet bur for the utimate liberatiion. The Burning of the soul is ewhat is described int he vedas as that that never BURNS. today’s burning topic is the Burning !!
its burning badly.. as i got hurt .. its swelling alot in the part hurted.. i dont know how to make it better. so i asked my friend for advice … but she has nt replied me .. dont know.. suffering
Flames lick at the night sky.
She watches them as they consume more and more of the once grand house/ So absorbed in the sight is she that she almost doesn’t notice the man come to a halt at her shoulder.
“This is your fault,” she says dully, as he grips her hand.
“I know.”
It consumed her from the inside; that horrible feeling that flooded her veins and set her soul alight. And it was all because of him. The usurper who claimed to know what was best, what would save their village. His lies would lead them only to death, and it was that knowledge which made her feel as though she was burning alive.
The building was burning around him, but he didn’t care. Let it. It wasn’t enough to melt the ice inside his chest. Nothing could. Let it crumble and go up in smoke. The flames seemed to dance around him, never quite touching his skin, the air growing hotter and redder with each passing second, growing closer and closer to reaching the point of flashback.
I woke up to the smell of smoke. As I sat up slowly, I saw the fire spreading around the room. Panic and fear rose as I took it what was happening. My entire room was on fire, and I was in the middle of it.
Something burning on pan. Needs to slow
Pain, hot. Sunburn. Need some oitment . Also pain medicine.
burning makes me think of flames; rupa thinks of firs and hot Joan of Arc, witches, salem, writing writing train, fire, bonfire, s’mores, christmas, fireplace, fight between me and my soul. workout. burning muscles. lactic acid. love. desire. rubber tires. virginia woolf. pigs. candles. to the lighthouse. hawaiin.
Well I’m pretty sure I already wrote about burning yesterday, but right now I’m thinking of petals, dried on the dead vine. Still retaining some pale color of what they once were, they are plucked unceremoniously and put into a fire.
I was in my room and Caden was baking some chocolate strawberry brownies and everything was going fine until i smelled this burning smell. The smoke alarm started going off and when I went out into the living room and there was smoke everywhere. I was trying to find him, i yelled his name and finally found him. He took the brownies out and they were all shrived up, black and brick hard…
I smelled something burning in the kitchen and followed the scent to a pan which had burnt fish on it.
I was burning some marshmallows for a smore as we sat around the campfire listening to the sounds of the forest.
The food was burning in the oven because somebody forgot to take it out and let it cool! It was starting to let off a burnt scent which then i knew that it was burning.
The hills are burning. My throat is burning. Everything hurts. Everything. Maybe it’s loneliness…maybe my loneliness burnt the San Gabriel Mountains down. Magical realism. A novel in Spanish where it all burns down.
Like bonfires in deep November they burned across the city, these pockets of broken humanity. The bats would flit between them, known but unseen, and chatter their secret speech across the skies. The last of our schools and hospitals burning to the ground, their forgotten value just embers on the scorched politic.
Chicago was dead
Some blame molotov cocktails
But the bullets did it
At first it was just a warmth in her heart. It was almost as if she was missing something she never knew she needed. As she swallowed the flames, she relished the way her soul drank it up and took it in, filling her with heat. This was the magic she was meant for. The burning brilliance of fire danced from her fingertips. Her heart burst and she grinned. She was the sun’s daughter.
The heat singed her arms as she made her way across the desert. The sun lashed out in it’s fury and baked the land that had once been teeming with life. Ava didn’t know who had cursed this kingdom, but whoever they were….they were filled with hate.
Hot and red, the fire ate up the greenery, changing the colors with it’s piercing brilliance. It’s angry lust tore into flesh and ripped it away.
The burning desire for liberation from the misery of the human birth is actually easier sadi than done. We fear the liberation and yet bur for the utimate liberatiion. The Burning of the soul is ewhat is described int he vedas as that that never BURNS. today’s burning topic is the Burning !!
its burning badly.. as i got hurt .. its swelling alot in the part hurted.. i dont know how to make it better. so i asked my friend for advice … but she has nt replied me .. dont know.. suffering
Flames lick at the night sky.
She watches them as they consume more and more of the once grand house/ So absorbed in the sight is she that she almost doesn’t notice the man come to a halt at her shoulder.
“This is your fault,” she says dully, as he grips her hand.
“I know.”
It consumed her from the inside; that horrible feeling that flooded her veins and set her soul alight. And it was all because of him. The usurper who claimed to know what was best, what would save their village. His lies would lead them only to death, and it was that knowledge which made her feel as though she was burning alive.
The building was burning around him, but he didn’t care. Let it. It wasn’t enough to melt the ice inside his chest. Nothing could. Let it crumble and go up in smoke. The flames seemed to dance around him, never quite touching his skin, the air growing hotter and redder with each passing second, growing closer and closer to reaching the point of flashback.
Burning fire
My revenge
Because of who I am
Because of what I do
My rage is red
My jealousy is of you
what. ok burning is probably the worst thing ,burning toast, burning hair burning house ahhhhh what would i do if my house was burning.
I woke up to the smell of smoke. As I sat up slowly, I saw the fire spreading around the room. Panic and fear rose as I took it what was happening. My entire room was on fire, and I was in the middle of it.
The burning sensation tingled throughout his entire body, he didn’t like it. The hooded figures infront of him kept pouring liquid all over him.