blotches of light seeped through my pocket and it hurt my skin every time that I walked over the lawn of sharp spikes mainly needles that ate the grass, and grew tighter than a tree over the earth. It hurt to see you.
There were blotches on my skin again. The first couple that had appeared, silent as digestion, had been easy to cover: clothes had done the trick. Getting gloves for when the appeared on my hands was tricky, but I managed. But now my face was being invaded.
The blotches on my face spread rapidly as i felt the heat rising in me. I was completely humiliated – how could I have let this happen? My face was crimson-stained and it was absolutely awful.
When he first noticed the blotches on his forehead, he thought he’d simply been sunburned from his walk on the beach. But then they began to blacken. And swell. Before he could even contemplate calling his physician, the discolored spots had turned to lesions.
I read some old entries. Since I’m not good at this stuff, I stole the best one with the funny last line….
My belt has grown and worn through many notches
It was with me through many of Life’s blotches
And many a lesson that events, to me, taught
Alack, From all kicks, it did not protect my crotch.
Black blotches filled most of the paper she wrote on. Her tears fell heavily as she wrote about her dead friend, her awful job and the fear of losing her new love. Blotches from her tears looked as if they would soak up the page, making all of the writing illegible.
blotches like dark holes in the face of time. and the stains that are life lie on the bedside beside the stand. satin flesh ripping the imperfections. Tiny tiny growing louder those blotches catch me offgaurd again. Tess and her blotchiness on the road my friends. Oh my lordy. locks and caves and shadows again. Blotches like paint spray into our eyes and sting. And we wipe them away but they are underneath our skin. Again..
I’m not really sure what to say here… Splotchy things. Which reminds me of that episode of scrubs where Dr Kelso spills coffee on his face and J.D. keeps calling him splotchy. I miss Scrubs. And my friend on the phone who I am talking to also got this word! What a coincidence…
Blotches are gross. Especially on faces. And on papers. I hate when I get blotches on my papers from shitty pens. It makes me want to scream because then I have to use all of my white out trying to get rid of it.
So we’re running and hiding and splattered in paint. It’s IDEA paint, it’s a place to share in creativity — have we forgotten how ugly the blotches are? Come on, we’re only going to be here for so long, live a little —
Snow and paintball time let’s party until there’s no more lime. Yup.
On my old diary I used to keep in kindergarten, the back pages have a large number of blotches. Black, pink, blue, red, green… people look at them and think I may have been just bored in class; it was true in a way, but it wasn’t so. If they squinted hard enough, they would see the fine lines in each of the circles. They were my thumb prints. My parents bought me many copies of Enid Blyton’s mystery novels, and so I was obsessed with detective work since young, and did many odd things that made me gain less friends than I would have. But I would not trade my love for shallow relationships that may fall apart anytime.
the blotches on my face started first. Then the blotches started to spread across my body. not only on my body, but to other people’s body! It was becoming and epedimic! What were we to do?
Blotches and blotches of paint covered the schoolyard. Susan sat there ashamed, and Timothy couldn’t believe his eyes or feel his hands. Or know for sure his heart was still beating. The dog lay dead on the ground. It was a peculiar sort of feeling for S and T; the sort of feeling you get when it dawns on you that you’re living a moment you will never, ever forget.
Blotches on her skin made her one of them. She stood out in any crowd, even if she tried to disguise herself. They all hated her for what she was and she feared them. She was no longer human, no longer herself. She traveled from town to town, searching for others like herself with no luck. She was terrified.
Since many of you are frankly, dumb, and do not know the term blotch, nor resourceful enough to look it up (Nitwits, You’re On-line!!). Here’s a freebie from…wow…DICTIONARY.com (Sooo Haaard [NOTE: should be read with sarcasm]) :
noun
1. a large, irregular spot or blot.
2. Plant Pathology .
a. a diseased, discolored spot or area on a plant.
b. a disease so characterized, usually accompanied by cankers and lesions.
3. a skin eruption; blemish.
–verb (used with object)
4. to mark with blotches; blot, spot, or blur: The floor of the forest was blotched with cool, dark moss.
–adjective
5. Textiles . of or pertaining to blotch printing, or to the colored ground produced by this process.
Use blotches in a Sentence
See images of blotches
Search blotches on the Web
blotches are completely misunderstood pieces of human interaction, you don’t really understand blotches at all. They are treated like blights, when really they are a pleasant surprise, a gift to remind you that all of life is not made with perfect linolium floors and prestine carpetting and white teeth. Life is everything, including blotches. It has no less of a rigt tobe here than you do, no less of a claim to the life of a blotch. You know something? Why do people seek to demean the blotch anyway? It’s not like it does them any harm. In fact, it is a gentle reminder of the temporary nature, the set up, the game so to speak of the cleanliness they seek.
Blotches,hmm…..blotches,blotches,blotches….well i guess,what does it really mean?i wonder who made the word blotch up????well anyway i dont have any,thank goodness
-peace out
When I was a teenager I noticed red blotches on my cheeks. Over the years they kept getting more and more red. As an adult I went to the doctor and they told me that I had a form of rosacea. The capillaries, tiny blood vessels in my skin, were inflamed and caused my skin to look red. I tried many types of skin creams and oral medications-nothing worked. I was told to stay away from caffeine and chocolate. Well, that was not going to happen. Now I have decided to try lazer treatment on my skin to see if I can get rid of the redness. Hopefully it will work!
blotches are so annoying. My face gets blotchy when I am embarrassed. I remember the first time I met my ex boyfriend I got blotches everywhere! I broke out in hives. My friend Tricia told me about it. It always happens to me. I think it is genetic because it happens to my older sister too. I just wish people wouldn’t point it out.
Blotches make me think about cold. They make me think about sticky mornings in flourescent-lit classrooms. They make me think about chicken skin and little kids with lollipop remains on their face because they couldn’t quite direct it into their mouth with complete accuracy. They make me think about skin and the irritation that happens when your pants are too tight and your skin is too dry.
they are big and they sometimes stain,and they look bad.
if i’m think about the right type of blotches,i think it can also mean a mark on your skin or something i think….
I knew my mascara was in ugly blotches, and everyone could see. Its not good to cry while walking outside in wyoming. The tears down my cheeks turned instantly into ice, but the burn reinforced the pain.
in seventh grade i had acne. not bad acne but acne nevertheless. there was this one girl, who turned around one day in class and called me pimples. it took over five years for us to be kinda friends. we can talk, but not carry on a conversation. is this because i am not longer blotchy or because we’ve grown up?
He didn’t always have the scares on his face. They came after he spoke out of turn one too many times. Now he just listens, and this helps him learn more about the people around him. It’s amazing how much you can learn just bye listening to the world around you instead of clogging up with your on dialog. He can’t remember who coined his new name but now its all he knows. Who he was before doesn’t matter, but what he’s learned is all he has.
Always blotches on my skin. Face, arms, thighs. Ever since I was little, “What are those on your face? You should get em checked out.” They’re apart of me. My skin will always be red.
She looked at me for a long moment, blotchy patches of purple showing up in her face. Her small, dirty hands balling into fists. Her jaw locked, and I winced, knowing what was coming.
Blotches of color spread on her cheeks. I’ve made her blush. Awkward. I watch her from across the classroom, trying to keep my head down. Is she mad? My eyes find hers. I hope not…I hate it when she’s angry.
I remember when she asked me if she’s cute when she’s mad.
Blotches, blotches everywhere. They were appearing on my skin, my peripheral vision, everywhere. Splotches of red. My anger was showing. It’s okay, the blotches will fade. The anger might not though.
Blotches of clean on a dirty dirty dog, show me the one blue eye, show me the crazy puppy side you left behind!
blotches of light seeped through my pocket and it hurt my skin every time that I walked over the lawn of sharp spikes mainly needles that ate the grass, and grew tighter than a tree over the earth. It hurt to see you.
There were blotches on my skin again. The first couple that had appeared, silent as digestion, had been easy to cover: clothes had done the trick. Getting gloves for when the appeared on my hands was tricky, but I managed. But now my face was being invaded.
The blotches on my face spread rapidly as i felt the heat rising in me. I was completely humiliated – how could I have let this happen? My face was crimson-stained and it was absolutely awful.
When he first noticed the blotches on his forehead, he thought he’d simply been sunburned from his walk on the beach. But then they began to blacken. And swell. Before he could even contemplate calling his physician, the discolored spots had turned to lesions.
I read some old entries. Since I’m not good at this stuff, I stole the best one with the funny last line….
My belt has grown and worn through many notches
It was with me through many of Life’s blotches
And many a lesson that events, to me, taught
Alack, From all kicks, it did not protect my crotch.
The embarrassed red blotches on her cheeks melted the old man’s anger and contorted his face with laughter.
Black blotches filled most of the paper she wrote on. Her tears fell heavily as she wrote about her dead friend, her awful job and the fear of losing her new love. Blotches from her tears looked as if they would soak up the page, making all of the writing illegible.
blotches like dark holes in the face of time. and the stains that are life lie on the bedside beside the stand. satin flesh ripping the imperfections. Tiny tiny growing louder those blotches catch me offgaurd again. Tess and her blotchiness on the road my friends. Oh my lordy. locks and caves and shadows again. Blotches like paint spray into our eyes and sting. And we wipe them away but they are underneath our skin. Again..
I’m not really sure what to say here… Splotchy things. Which reminds me of that episode of scrubs where Dr Kelso spills coffee on his face and J.D. keeps calling him splotchy. I miss Scrubs. And my friend on the phone who I am talking to also got this word! What a coincidence…
Blotches are gross. Especially on faces. And on papers. I hate when I get blotches on my papers from shitty pens. It makes me want to scream because then I have to use all of my white out trying to get rid of it.
Her face was covered in blotches.
The kind that come after a torrential downpour of tears.
blotches, splotches it’s like paint balls — ow.
So we’re running and hiding and splattered in paint. It’s IDEA paint, it’s a place to share in creativity — have we forgotten how ugly the blotches are? Come on, we’re only going to be here for so long, live a little —
Snow and paintball time let’s party until there’s no more lime. Yup.
On my old diary I used to keep in kindergarten, the back pages have a large number of blotches. Black, pink, blue, red, green… people look at them and think I may have been just bored in class; it was true in a way, but it wasn’t so. If they squinted hard enough, they would see the fine lines in each of the circles. They were my thumb prints. My parents bought me many copies of Enid Blyton’s mystery novels, and so I was obsessed with detective work since young, and did many odd things that made me gain less friends than I would have. But I would not trade my love for shallow relationships that may fall apart anytime.
the blotches on my face started first. Then the blotches started to spread across my body. not only on my body, but to other people’s body! It was becoming and epedimic! What were we to do?
Blotches and blotches of paint covered the schoolyard. Susan sat there ashamed, and Timothy couldn’t believe his eyes or feel his hands. Or know for sure his heart was still beating. The dog lay dead on the ground. It was a peculiar sort of feeling for S and T; the sort of feeling you get when it dawns on you that you’re living a moment you will never, ever forget.
blotches covered my battered and swollen arms…I lived today…sometimes hard physical labor makes me feel more alive
Blotches on her skin made her one of them. She stood out in any crowd, even if she tried to disguise herself. They all hated her for what she was and she feared them. She was no longer human, no longer herself. She traveled from town to town, searching for others like herself with no luck. She was terrified.
Since many of you are frankly, dumb, and do not know the term blotch, nor resourceful enough to look it up (Nitwits, You’re On-line!!). Here’s a freebie from…wow…DICTIONARY.com (Sooo Haaard [NOTE: should be read with sarcasm]) :
noun
1. a large, irregular spot or blot.
2. Plant Pathology .
a. a diseased, discolored spot or area on a plant.
b. a disease so characterized, usually accompanied by cankers and lesions.
3. a skin eruption; blemish.
–verb (used with object)
4. to mark with blotches; blot, spot, or blur: The floor of the forest was blotched with cool, dark moss.
–adjective
5. Textiles . of or pertaining to blotch printing, or to the colored ground produced by this process.
Use blotches in a Sentence
See images of blotches
Search blotches on the Web
Origin: 1595–1605; perh. b. blot1 + botch2
Synonyms
1. splotch, mark, blemish, stain.
wtf is blotches?
Oh I think they are something related to blots? Or NO? no?? WTF..
I can’t write about something when I dont even know wtf is that thing. Wait lemme google
haha got it, well its an unusual mark on face or something
but its not the best word to write alot about.
blotches are completely misunderstood pieces of human interaction, you don’t really understand blotches at all. They are treated like blights, when really they are a pleasant surprise, a gift to remind you that all of life is not made with perfect linolium floors and prestine carpetting and white teeth. Life is everything, including blotches. It has no less of a rigt tobe here than you do, no less of a claim to the life of a blotch. You know something? Why do people seek to demean the blotch anyway? It’s not like it does them any harm. In fact, it is a gentle reminder of the temporary nature, the set up, the game so to speak of the cleanliness they seek.
Blotches,hmm…..blotches,blotches,blotches….well i guess,what does it really mean?i wonder who made the word blotch up????well anyway i dont have any,thank goodness
-peace out
When I was a teenager I noticed red blotches on my cheeks. Over the years they kept getting more and more red. As an adult I went to the doctor and they told me that I had a form of rosacea. The capillaries, tiny blood vessels in my skin, were inflamed and caused my skin to look red. I tried many types of skin creams and oral medications-nothing worked. I was told to stay away from caffeine and chocolate. Well, that was not going to happen. Now I have decided to try lazer treatment on my skin to see if I can get rid of the redness. Hopefully it will work!
blotches are so annoying. My face gets blotchy when I am embarrassed. I remember the first time I met my ex boyfriend I got blotches everywhere! I broke out in hives. My friend Tricia told me about it. It always happens to me. I think it is genetic because it happens to my older sister too. I just wish people wouldn’t point it out.
Blotches make me think about cold. They make me think about sticky mornings in flourescent-lit classrooms. They make me think about chicken skin and little kids with lollipop remains on their face because they couldn’t quite direct it into their mouth with complete accuracy. They make me think about skin and the irritation that happens when your pants are too tight and your skin is too dry.
they are big and they sometimes stain,and they look bad.
if i’m think about the right type of blotches,i think it can also mean a mark on your skin or something i think….
I knew my mascara was in ugly blotches, and everyone could see. Its not good to cry while walking outside in wyoming. The tears down my cheeks turned instantly into ice, but the burn reinforced the pain.
My belt has grown and worn through many notches
It was with me through many of Life’s blotches
And many a lesson that events, to me, taught
Alack, From all kicks, it did not protect my crotch
I put on my sunglasses to look out over the snow, but there were blotches on the lens where I had spilled some coffee on them the day before.
in seventh grade i had acne. not bad acne but acne nevertheless. there was this one girl, who turned around one day in class and called me pimples. it took over five years for us to be kinda friends. we can talk, but not carry on a conversation. is this because i am not longer blotchy or because we’ve grown up?
paint splatterd on the wall or blotches of redness on your face the blotches in the clouds and blotches of holes in the ground.
is a word that sounds exactly like what it is. It makes me think of random messes. It even sounds like blotches look. Sort of like the smell of green
blotches is a dot or a thing that has been splattered on a wall or zits on your face a dot or a paint bottle that has been spilt
He didn’t always have the scares on his face. They came after he spoke out of turn one too many times. Now he just listens, and this helps him learn more about the people around him. It’s amazing how much you can learn just bye listening to the world around you instead of clogging up with your on dialog. He can’t remember who coined his new name but now its all he knows. Who he was before doesn’t matter, but what he’s learned is all he has.
Always blotches on my skin. Face, arms, thighs. Ever since I was little, “What are those on your face? You should get em checked out.” They’re apart of me. My skin will always be red.
Some bratty, bright and bubbly friend you could need to say comforting things in your ear.
She looked at me for a long moment, blotchy patches of purple showing up in her face. Her small, dirty hands balling into fists. Her jaw locked, and I winced, knowing what was coming.
“You said you’d PLAY WITH ME!!”
Blotches of color spread on her cheeks. I’ve made her blush. Awkward. I watch her from across the classroom, trying to keep my head down. Is she mad? My eyes find hers. I hope not…I hate it when she’s angry.
I remember when she asked me if she’s cute when she’s mad.
…She isn’t.
Blotches, blotches everywhere. They were appearing on my skin, my peripheral vision, everywhere. Splotches of red. My anger was showing. It’s okay, the blotches will fade. The anger might not though.
the sky was full of purple blotches falling through the clouds and ruining the landscape