It’s easy to forget how much she hates him, though that’s really all that defines their relationship now. They are polar opposites, meant to never agree about anything life has to offer them. It’s practically all they can do to stay in the same room as the other.
White.
Endlessly white as far as the eye could see. And then some. Below him, the snow. Beside him, the snow. Above him, sometimes snow, but clouds that completely concealed the sky and very much resembled…snow.
What was the point of this again? No matter.
He continued his trek across the tundra. Up and down hills of snow. Long bouts across a desert of white. The cold had already got to him. He hated it the way you hate a fly or gnat you /know/ you caught. You prepare to open your hands and see its ugly body lying all over your palms.
And then it flies off. To fly another day. To cast its lazy drone in your ear that moment just before you fall asleep.
He was not a poetic man, but, if he made it back home–when he made it back home (he had decided that ifs were for quitters)–he would write a novel about this hellish place.
He already decided on a title; The Devil’s White Hell.
Brilliant.
Up another hill, back down the other side. He picked his steps carefully. This land was the land of the Devil (the title stuck with him. He could not help it. It was clever, he boasted, chuckling, but only in his mind. He dare not waste the oxygen with a real laugh). And as such you never knew what nightmare might await a bad move.
The sun, which he had not actually seen since he arrived, as it stayed hidden behind the sheet of clouds taunting him from above, was lowering towards the horizon. He worried it would be nightfall before he reached his next checkpoint. He was already about a day behind, or so he thought, and could not afford any further loss of time.
He pressed on.
The whiteness dimmed all around him. The clouds turned gray.
Just a little further, he thought, a quarter of a mile or so.
And this last hill.
Up, over, and back down. Just like always.
Up he went. Careful not to hold at any lose snow.
At the top now. Time to go down.
And down he went.
He lost his footing. He happened upon the tip of an iceberg, slipped on its icy surface, and tumbled down.
A snapping sound filled his ears. He landed hard on his back, his ankle searing with pain. He looked down at it.
Sprained, he thought. We can live with that. Can still travel.
But, no. He looked closer now. The darkness of the night concealed the bone well, but it was sure enough no longer concealed by skin. His nerves told his brain.
He screamed.
He wanted to get up, to go. He could crawl if he had to, but he had to move. He could not stay here. There would be provisions at the checkpoint, an emergency flare. If’s were no longer a concern. He would be a quitter, but he did not want to die. Not here. Not in the Devil’s White Hell.
He began panting.
Stop it, he thought. No time. No air. Calm down. Don’t panic.
Crackle…
He held his breath. Not voluntarily. It was just a reaction of being horrified at the sound around him.
He could not see around him, for he refused to look. Not that it mattered, because just seconds after the crackle came the second loudest sound he would ever hear.
The sound of the ice giving way. Collapsing beneath him as his back hit the water that felt like hell-fire.
He just sank for a moment. Paralyzed from the fear, the unfathomable cold. Then, he would hate to have admitted it, but, he panicked.
Arms flailing hopelessly about him. He tried to force himself up, but continued to sink deeper. He kicked his legs and regretted it. The waters had not helped ease the suffering of his peeking ankle.
He screamed. Or tried to, but only succeeded at swallowing water so low below zero that his entire body began to ache. /Like a full-body-brain-freeze/. That is how he would have put it in his novel.
If he would have ever written a novel.
He quit.
No longer an explorer. He was now an official and, as far as he was concerned, professional quitter.
So he sank. Still on his back, staring straight up through the hole above him and–would you look at that. The sun came out to pay it’s respects.
He closed his eyes. He had little choice now. He had sank so far that the only light was the tiny, quarter sized sun above him. Two suns.
Wait..
His eyes snapped open. Two lights above him?
He flailed around and managed to twist his head behind him. There it was.
The mocking sun sitting right..behind him.
So he was facing down now.
Sinking deeper beneath the tundra. Facing the depths.
Two tiny suns facing him.
That was when he heard the loudest sound he would ever hear.
The beast beneath him opening it’s gigantic mouth, letting out a bubble-filled screech that shook the entire sea.
The ice caps keep melting. But what do people expect?
Things have been melting since time began, when they melt they just displace, not disappear.
It’s a simple form, a new one. Transition is frightening, I suppose, when one thinks they shall disappear.
“So, from the book it claims that the Polar Regions are the areas of the globe surrounding the poles also known as the frigid zones-” Cassy was interrupted by Gwen.
“Can’t we take a break for once?” Gwen complained, pointing to the alcohol in the corner, raising an eyebrow.
“Screw you and your beer, Gwen. Final’s are next week, we need to study this!” Cassy thew her textbook at her roommate, Gwen dodging it in return, giving her a hearty laugh.
it was very cold. but what did i except when going to the south pole? my thick jacket seemed to do no justice against the blistering wind. i could feel the cold air seeping through my skin, and freezing my bones.
“Your heart and my heart, the polar opposites in breathing and beating. Your blood pumping to the brain and mine to my feet. Your breathe is still tangling and weaving around the veins. The problem comes with that their choking the veins. Cutting off the circulation and the blood. Cutting off life.”
It’s cold. There was a dream. It broke the icecaps. Flooded the earth. No animals were saved. No food lasted. Only two people. And they had time. But only until they starved to death. Sex.
It’s cold. There was a dream. It broke the icecaps. Flooded the earth. No animals were saved. No food lasted. Only two people. And they had time. But only until they starved to death. Sex.
We repulsed each other, catapulting the both of us backwards in one quick jolt. I needed him, my arms stretched out as if they could fight the force destined to keep us apart. We were opposites, polar, star crossed lover, doomed to run as parallel lines, gazing at each other from a distance.
snow boot imprints
left in the frozen tundra
of the polar ice caps.
the spikes of your shoes
digging deep into my flesh.
the edges of the ice melting,
the wildlife retreating,
and no one had noticed that
the ice had molded into
the shape of my heart
breaking into two.
It was a cold and fear full day at the polar ice caps. The wind howled like wild monsters roaming around in the midnight air. As I pulled my parka closer around my face I could see the light of our camp. Shinning like a becon of hope in this snowy waste land.
once there was a polar bear. He was no ordinary polar bear, but he was a lot like you and me. He could talk, write, and read. Most of the time he walked on his two hind legs unless he needed to get somewhere very quickly. He even had a his own name. His name was Snuffles. However, he was quite lonely. He didn’t know of any other polar bears like himself so he couldn’t find love, or even friends for that matter. One day he decided to head out away from the group of polar bears he was with to try to find another polar bear like himself. He wandered for many many days and night but couldn’t find any other polar bears.
We’re polar opposites in every which way. I’m sure he hates me. I’m sure I hate him right back. But somewhere in between of our hating each other, we’ve accidentally fallen into love. It’s strong enough to steal my breath away. Bright enough for him to know it’s okay.
Life is strange that way, when you force yourself to think about things your heart hasn’t fully sorted yet. But I guess I can’t complain. They say that opposites attract.
“I mean, you’re kidding right? We’re like polar opposites; we practically REPEL each other!” I sputtered incredulously. “How in the HELL does that make her my true love?”
The old sage smiled, the look far too condescending for my comfort. “I’m quite sure you’re heard the phrase ‘opposites attract’?”
I groaned. “By the Gods, that’s just something people SAY, gran! It doesn’t MEAN anything.”
She tutted. “On the contrary, my dear. It means EVERYTHING.”
Polar. The word held no meaning to the girl as she stood on the surface of the distorted world. The Earth was scorched beneath her feet and the sun beat down like the devil himself.
Polar. The word held no meaning to the girl as she stood on the surface of the distorted world. The Earth was scorched beneath her feet and the sun beat down like the devil himself.
the furthest you could go. in either direction. you get bogged down in the intensity, fast switching, never ending. there are forty different places you’ve felt this. there’s no end, and in some ways that’s a comfort. you know who built this, and you know where it’s eventually going.
polar opposites
someone who is completely different from you
that you think you can and will never understand
but you are interested by them
intrigued by them
fascinated by them
they pull you in
entangle you
then leave you completely alone
bewildered
confused
and still wondering
They were polar
opposites.
Not just north
and south.
but happy
and sad.
Black
and white.
Yes
and no.
But something drew them
together.
Like they were magnets.
Or lovers.
The bipolar woman now in her twenties felt as though her only grip on reality was slimming through her narrow finger gaps. She was tired of being here. She downed the last of the pills that controlled her. She felt as though society was controlling her. Why couldn’t she be the way she was without the little demonic pills? Why couldn’t she feel more than one emotion at once? She’d grown up this way, so why couldn’t she feel it? “Because it wasn’t acceptable or mature of her” Oh yeah. She was tired of feeling as though she had to behave and lock herself away from the free breeze that blew through her shiny, straight hair. She just wanted to feel as the tigers in Africa. As she felt the darkness caress her lonely,trapped soul, she thought of the way her parents looked at her when she went through these “episodes.” Fear ran through their eyes. She knew as her mother laid in bed, she thought of the failure her body had created and entered into this world. No matter how hard she tried, her mother would never accept that she was broken from the way that people acted around her at such a young age. Her mother blamed herself for the actions and tried fixing her, but it never worked
Firstly, I think of the earth, with its extremes no matter where you go. Then I think of polar bears, and how they may not survive the next climate change. I friggin love polar bears.
Frigid, extreme, she sought them out. She was always in the center herself, dance floor, cocktail parties, karaoke, skills she had carefully cultivated. But she didn’t want those that gave her smiles, who sang and danced besides her, but those who never came, those who averted her eyes on the sidewalks, their faces unhooded in the snow, those who had walked to the edge of the ice, who were bored by the world of people.
Anna turned the small globe over in her hands and watched the plastic snow fall. Her shopping trips didn’t normally include picking up such silly knickknacks, but there was always something about snow globes that made her hone in on them– this one contained a Russian inspired
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
I always wanted a Polaroid. I always loved the thought of instantly capturing photos of something you loved so much you instantly knew you never wanted to let it go.
It’s easy to forget how much she hates him, though that’s really all that defines their relationship now. They are polar opposites, meant to never agree about anything life has to offer them. It’s practically all they can do to stay in the same room as the other.
White.
Endlessly white as far as the eye could see. And then some. Below him, the snow. Beside him, the snow. Above him, sometimes snow, but clouds that completely concealed the sky and very much resembled…snow.
What was the point of this again? No matter.
He continued his trek across the tundra. Up and down hills of snow. Long bouts across a desert of white. The cold had already got to him. He hated it the way you hate a fly or gnat you /know/ you caught. You prepare to open your hands and see its ugly body lying all over your palms.
And then it flies off. To fly another day. To cast its lazy drone in your ear that moment just before you fall asleep.
He was not a poetic man, but, if he made it back home–when he made it back home (he had decided that ifs were for quitters)–he would write a novel about this hellish place.
He already decided on a title; The Devil’s White Hell.
Brilliant.
Up another hill, back down the other side. He picked his steps carefully. This land was the land of the Devil (the title stuck with him. He could not help it. It was clever, he boasted, chuckling, but only in his mind. He dare not waste the oxygen with a real laugh). And as such you never knew what nightmare might await a bad move.
The sun, which he had not actually seen since he arrived, as it stayed hidden behind the sheet of clouds taunting him from above, was lowering towards the horizon. He worried it would be nightfall before he reached his next checkpoint. He was already about a day behind, or so he thought, and could not afford any further loss of time.
He pressed on.
The whiteness dimmed all around him. The clouds turned gray.
Just a little further, he thought, a quarter of a mile or so.
And this last hill.
Up, over, and back down. Just like always.
Up he went. Careful not to hold at any lose snow.
At the top now. Time to go down.
And down he went.
He lost his footing. He happened upon the tip of an iceberg, slipped on its icy surface, and tumbled down.
A snapping sound filled his ears. He landed hard on his back, his ankle searing with pain. He looked down at it.
Sprained, he thought. We can live with that. Can still travel.
But, no. He looked closer now. The darkness of the night concealed the bone well, but it was sure enough no longer concealed by skin. His nerves told his brain.
He screamed.
He wanted to get up, to go. He could crawl if he had to, but he had to move. He could not stay here. There would be provisions at the checkpoint, an emergency flare. If’s were no longer a concern. He would be a quitter, but he did not want to die. Not here. Not in the Devil’s White Hell.
He began panting.
Stop it, he thought. No time. No air. Calm down. Don’t panic.
Crackle…
He held his breath. Not voluntarily. It was just a reaction of being horrified at the sound around him.
He could not see around him, for he refused to look. Not that it mattered, because just seconds after the crackle came the second loudest sound he would ever hear.
The sound of the ice giving way. Collapsing beneath him as his back hit the water that felt like hell-fire.
He just sank for a moment. Paralyzed from the fear, the unfathomable cold. Then, he would hate to have admitted it, but, he panicked.
Arms flailing hopelessly about him. He tried to force himself up, but continued to sink deeper. He kicked his legs and regretted it. The waters had not helped ease the suffering of his peeking ankle.
He screamed. Or tried to, but only succeeded at swallowing water so low below zero that his entire body began to ache. /Like a full-body-brain-freeze/. That is how he would have put it in his novel.
If he would have ever written a novel.
He quit.
No longer an explorer. He was now an official and, as far as he was concerned, professional quitter.
So he sank. Still on his back, staring straight up through the hole above him and–would you look at that. The sun came out to pay it’s respects.
He closed his eyes. He had little choice now. He had sank so far that the only light was the tiny, quarter sized sun above him. Two suns.
Wait..
His eyes snapped open. Two lights above him?
He flailed around and managed to twist his head behind him. There it was.
The mocking sun sitting right..behind him.
So he was facing down now.
Sinking deeper beneath the tundra. Facing the depths.
Two tiny suns facing him.
That was when he heard the loudest sound he would ever hear.
The beast beneath him opening it’s gigantic mouth, letting out a bubble-filled screech that shook the entire sea.
The ice caps keep melting. But what do people expect?
Things have been melting since time began, when they melt they just displace, not disappear.
It’s a simple form, a new one. Transition is frightening, I suppose, when one thinks they shall disappear.
“So, from the book it claims that the Polar Regions are the areas of the globe surrounding the poles also known as the frigid zones-” Cassy was interrupted by Gwen.
“Can’t we take a break for once?” Gwen complained, pointing to the alcohol in the corner, raising an eyebrow.
“Screw you and your beer, Gwen. Final’s are next week, we need to study this!” Cassy thew her textbook at her roommate, Gwen dodging it in return, giving her a hearty laugh.
Positive. Negative.
Magnetic.
North. South.
Cold.
Happy. Sad.
Emotional.
Sun. Moon.
Celestial.
Day. Night.
Time.
She was the same
They were opposites
Sitting at the end of benches
Balanced by gravity
A fulcrum that separated them
With physics
The air snapped
Like a branch underfoot
it was very cold. but what did i except when going to the south pole? my thick jacket seemed to do no justice against the blistering wind. i could feel the cold air seeping through my skin, and freezing my bones.
As white as the glaring sun. You feel the sizzling sensation in your eyes: Burning Burning Burning.
“Your heart and my heart, the polar opposites in breathing and beating. Your blood pumping to the brain and mine to my feet. Your breathe is still tangling and weaving around the veins. The problem comes with that their choking the veins. Cutting off the circulation and the blood. Cutting off life.”
It’s cold. There was a dream. It broke the icecaps. Flooded the earth. No animals were saved. No food lasted. Only two people. And they had time. But only until they starved to death. Sex.
It’s cold. There was a dream. It broke the icecaps. Flooded the earth. No animals were saved. No food lasted. Only two people. And they had time. But only until they starved to death. Sex.
?
We repulsed each other, catapulting the both of us backwards in one quick jolt. I needed him, my arms stretched out as if they could fight the force destined to keep us apart. We were opposites, polar, star crossed lover, doomed to run as parallel lines, gazing at each other from a distance.
snow boot imprints
left in the frozen tundra
of the polar ice caps.
the spikes of your shoes
digging deep into my flesh.
the edges of the ice melting,
the wildlife retreating,
and no one had noticed that
the ice had molded into
the shape of my heart
breaking into two.
It was a cold and fear full day at the polar ice caps. The wind howled like wild monsters roaming around in the midnight air. As I pulled my parka closer around my face I could see the light of our camp. Shinning like a becon of hope in this snowy waste land.
once there was a polar bear. He was no ordinary polar bear, but he was a lot like you and me. He could talk, write, and read. Most of the time he walked on his two hind legs unless he needed to get somewhere very quickly. He even had a his own name. His name was Snuffles. However, he was quite lonely. He didn’t know of any other polar bears like himself so he couldn’t find love, or even friends for that matter. One day he decided to head out away from the group of polar bears he was with to try to find another polar bear like himself. He wandered for many many days and night but couldn’t find any other polar bears.
We’re polar opposites in every which way. I’m sure he hates me. I’m sure I hate him right back. But somewhere in between of our hating each other, we’ve accidentally fallen into love. It’s strong enough to steal my breath away. Bright enough for him to know it’s okay.
Life is strange that way, when you force yourself to think about things your heart hasn’t fully sorted yet. But I guess I can’t complain. They say that opposites attract.
Maybe I disagree.
“I mean, you’re kidding right? We’re like polar opposites; we practically REPEL each other!” I sputtered incredulously. “How in the HELL does that make her my true love?”
The old sage smiled, the look far too condescending for my comfort. “I’m quite sure you’re heard the phrase ‘opposites attract’?”
I groaned. “By the Gods, that’s just something people SAY, gran! It doesn’t MEAN anything.”
She tutted. “On the contrary, my dear. It means EVERYTHING.”
Polar. The word held no meaning to the girl as she stood on the surface of the distorted world. The Earth was scorched beneath her feet and the sun beat down like the devil himself.
Polar. The word held no meaning to the girl as she stood on the surface of the distorted world. The Earth was scorched beneath her feet and the sun beat down like the devil himself.
This is the Polar Express!! ALL ABOARD!! To answer your question, we are traveling to the North Pole.
the furthest you could go. in either direction. you get bogged down in the intensity, fast switching, never ending. there are forty different places you’ve felt this. there’s no end, and in some ways that’s a comfort. you know who built this, and you know where it’s eventually going.
polar opposites
someone who is completely different from you
that you think you can and will never understand
but you are interested by them
intrigued by them
fascinated by them
they pull you in
entangle you
then leave you completely alone
bewildered
confused
and still wondering
They were polar
opposites.
Not just north
and south.
but happy
and sad.
Black
and white.
Yes
and no.
But something drew them
together.
Like they were magnets.
Or lovers.
Sometimes, I just don’t understand how you work. Your mouth keeps telling me no, and yet your actions spur me on.
The bipolar woman now in her twenties felt as though her only grip on reality was slimming through her narrow finger gaps. She was tired of being here. She downed the last of the pills that controlled her. She felt as though society was controlling her. Why couldn’t she be the way she was without the little demonic pills? Why couldn’t she feel more than one emotion at once? She’d grown up this way, so why couldn’t she feel it? “Because it wasn’t acceptable or mature of her” Oh yeah. She was tired of feeling as though she had to behave and lock herself away from the free breeze that blew through her shiny, straight hair. She just wanted to feel as the tigers in Africa. As she felt the darkness caress her lonely,trapped soul, she thought of the way her parents looked at her when she went through these “episodes.” Fear ran through their eyes. She knew as her mother laid in bed, she thought of the failure her body had created and entered into this world. No matter how hard she tried, her mother would never accept that she was broken from the way that people acted around her at such a young age. Her mother blamed herself for the actions and tried fixing her, but it never worked
I’m counting the stars as my gold. You’re kicking the stones as you walk. You say you’ve loved me for some time, but I can’t help wondering…
Firstly, I think of the earth, with its extremes no matter where you go. Then I think of polar bears, and how they may not survive the next climate change. I friggin love polar bears.
Frigid, extreme, she sought them out. She was always in the center herself, dance floor, cocktail parties, karaoke, skills she had carefully cultivated. But she didn’t want those that gave her smiles, who sang and danced besides her, but those who never came, those who averted her eyes on the sidewalks, their faces unhooded in the snow, those who had walked to the edge of the ice, who were bored by the world of people.
Anna turned the small globe over in her hands and watched the plastic snow fall. Her shopping trips didn’t normally include picking up such silly knickknacks, but there was always something about snow globes that made her hone in on them– this one contained a Russian inspired
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
Polar makes me think of ice and cold and Alaska. Global warming: earth is warming up and polar ice caps are melting. ship moving across the poles that are white and big. the ship is trying to maneuver through the glaciers. titanic sunk because it hit an ice berg. now it makes me think of Charles. I hate thinking of Charles he makes me sad.
The train moved steadily north.I was comfortable in my pj’s with my hot chocolate.
We were polar opposites.
I always wanted a Polaroid. I always loved the thought of instantly capturing photos of something you loved so much you instantly knew you never wanted to let it go.
I’m like bipolar.