I awoke in a prison, chained to the floor. How did I get here? There was a strange smell lingering in the air. I didn’t know what was going on. All my life I had been striving to find the answers that I needed, but I never would, for I was not going to leave this place. Fucking chains, man. Fucking chains.
The chains are hollow in the ground
sounding quickly through the town
everybody’s watching me there crying
trying not to despair too much but I do
he watches me sometimes the key in in his hand
always there
never a care
the good voice has darkened
It’s impossible to be truly free when you live in a society where social constraints rule your life. To be free one would have to let go of all their social rules and norms and be themselves alone. Be who are you if you have the strength to do so. It is something to be admired.
Chained, to be contained, restricted, or held back.
TO be held back suucks but it allwaysd happens, everyone is good at one thing but not another, jack of all master fo none, thats me, so im free.
chained to a chair having sex. chained to a wall being tortured. change, pocket change. idk wtf else to say. ive never been chained before to anything i dont think. it would probably hurt. hurt the wrists. or ankles. it could be fun in the righr context. i wouldnt want to be chained in the ‘saw’ mold, that would suck.
I am chained to the feeelings to the habits to the thoughts of myself that have been formed or have been forming in my head since I was small. How do I break these chains, how do I run from these demons, if they are part of myself, is there change within chains?
I am not one for self pity, I just want to find a way out, even though I know the problem, I can’t seem to break out.
Being chained to higher ground and looking down was at first a prvilege and then a disadvantage and finally an injustice. How unfortunate it’d taken so much labor and think-work over a lifetime to chase so far up the hill on the heels of a possibility, of freezing a moment in a manmade model of Permanence. How upsetting to find even the disturbing Thoughts and Images aren’t happy there, and what exquisite torture to watch the brilliant ones flow like Satisfaction just out of reach.
chained in a room. chains remind me of sex. is that bad? i don’t really know. they just remind me of the really rough sex. it’s kind of hot, kind of a turn off.
Chained like an animal in a place unknown. Taken from my family and knowing that I have no other places to go. I wonder what will come next of my chained life. The cold shackle around my legs and arms irritates me to furiously tug and pull. I am chained…
in french class, or generally in school, we’re all chained to education, and it’s hard to break free from all the drama of grades, detentions, and love. you meet people you want to spend time with, you meet people you hate, you have to do well or there are consequences. but what do you do once your best isn’t good enough?
They might as well have been. A horrible attraction: Hooks, strung-together jewels, hearts and desires, danger and hatred. He pulled and she stumbled forward; she tried to run away, and couldn’t.
Chained to the fence. Scared, barking angrily at the kids that walked by. He could only see them at one-eigth intervals through the wooden privacy fence, but his eyes were keen.
It was dark and there was something around her wrists. Cold. Metal. It was too hard to figure out where she was. A basement? An attic? Regardless, she was in trouble.
As the guards dragged me across the hard stone of the castle I winced has something sharp pierced my heel. A small trail of blood could be seen from my foot. Why had this happened? Why does there have to be war? My country was only trying to make peace! And I was trying to help! But i got caught up in my own fantasy with the enemy’s son. How could I do that to my people? I groaned as the guards dropped me and chained me to the dungeon wall.
I think of a man I met once who thought chains were sexy on a woman. And about how I’m chained to my desk for most of the week, chained to my rent, my boyfriend, my family and other obligations. How I used to be free and enjoy life. I must be very sexy to the man I met, now.
To be chained like an animal is cruel. People shouldn’t be chained and only animals should be chained if they are a threat to humans. Another chained would be to connect pieces together in order to make a chain.
I am chained in this room. I do not like this room. It is small. It is suffocating. I cannot take it any longer. The time is running out. I will die chained to this room. No. Do not. Leave me. Chained to this room.
Chained? That sounds like the title of a bad fanfic. Something involving Kirk/Spock, most likely. Them in a cave when Spock goes into pon farr and the whole thing unfolds in a tedious and predictable manner.
Chained to this desk until the finals are graded then…then I can start on the things I keep putting off at home. Just other chains, but I’m ready to trade these in for those.
linked and pulled , shackled, with pain
rusty and swinging and tethered to life
ungiving and weary
fogged up with mist
raring to go
getting ready to shift.
The chains as they sway
with mighty power
and strife
leap free from these chains
and start up your life.
I feel so Chained up and hidden from the world as if all that I do is because of my father, who runs my life unfairly. I love Sir William Strafford, and though he is a poor farmer, and I a member of court to serve my queen sister, He is promised me a home life in the country with my Daughter. Nothing I do, I do of my own volition. It is ordered upon me by either my father, or my mother, or even worse, my Uncle.
Locked up in a basement, chained to the walls, like an animal. Lost and lonely, with no exit in sight. Not knowing what my next move should be. I spot tools and think about an escape. But what if I make a move, and there’s really no way out of here? So deep in thought with deciding what to do or how to save myself. I hear a noise, sounding like a door. Is my prayer coming true?
I am chained by my inhabitions. Imagine if I could free myself. I would sing out loud in public, spin crazy ballerina circles in the grocery store, walk my goat on a leash into fancy stores smiling. I would call out HELLO FRIEND to strangers, wear things that don’t come close to matching because they are soft. Perhaps tomorrow I will try.
The necklace sits upon my neck, its silver heart keeping all my love inside. its so beautiful and it looks so graceful just sitting there. It makes my neck look so elegant, but at the same time weighting me down, fore now, ill forever be bound to you with this chain.
the cold hurtful metal trapped around my wrists are a reminder everyday, of my horror and wrong doings. They allow for no change or remorse, but of permanent judgement and a filth drenched conscious.
After so much excitement, so much relief, so much truth telling and exploration, this ball and chain are still here. They are still digging into my flesh, even more so, and I want more than ever that they didn’t exist. If only my wish could make it real. If only dreams coming true were that easy. It turns out that it’s hard work, and the pretty pastel picture that I painted for my life–the one that is making me gag at the thought–is harder to escape. This is going to take more effort than simply making a decision. It is going to take action. Follow-through. Faith that all if it is for the right outcome, the real right outcome. Until I lose myself in that faith and that action, all at the same time, no time, and all the time, I will be chained to the nagging, splenda-sweetened, good life.
Shackled. Ever felt like you’re stuck in a rut? It’s weird. Like you can see the future you deserve, but can’t take the steps to grab it.
I awoke in a prison, chained to the floor. How did I get here? There was a strange smell lingering in the air. I didn’t know what was going on. All my life I had been striving to find the answers that I needed, but I never would, for I was not going to leave this place. Fucking chains, man. Fucking chains.
The chains are hollow in the ground
sounding quickly through the town
everybody’s watching me there crying
trying not to despair too much but I do
he watches me sometimes the key in in his hand
always there
never a care
the good voice has darkened
Chained and bound to the every day happenings of the same argument
Hand in hand, not one before the other.
It’s impossible to be truly free when you live in a society where social constraints rule your life. To be free one would have to let go of all their social rules and norms and be themselves alone. Be who are you if you have the strength to do so. It is something to be admired.
Chained, to be contained, restricted, or held back.
TO be held back suucks but it allwaysd happens, everyone is good at one thing but not another, jack of all master fo none, thats me, so im free.
chained to a chair having sex. chained to a wall being tortured. change, pocket change. idk wtf else to say. ive never been chained before to anything i dont think. it would probably hurt. hurt the wrists. or ankles. it could be fun in the righr context. i wouldnt want to be chained in the ‘saw’ mold, that would suck.
I am chained to the feeelings to the habits to the thoughts of myself that have been formed or have been forming in my head since I was small. How do I break these chains, how do I run from these demons, if they are part of myself, is there change within chains?
I am not one for self pity, I just want to find a way out, even though I know the problem, I can’t seem to break out.
Being chained to higher ground and looking down was at first a prvilege and then a disadvantage and finally an injustice. How unfortunate it’d taken so much labor and think-work over a lifetime to chase so far up the hill on the heels of a possibility, of freezing a moment in a manmade model of Permanence. How upsetting to find even the disturbing Thoughts and Images aren’t happy there, and what exquisite torture to watch the brilliant ones flow like Satisfaction just out of reach.
chained in a room. chains remind me of sex. is that bad? i don’t really know. they just remind me of the really rough sex. it’s kind of hot, kind of a turn off.
Chained like an animal in a place unknown. Taken from my family and knowing that I have no other places to go. I wonder what will come next of my chained life. The cold shackle around my legs and arms irritates me to furiously tug and pull. I am chained…
in french class, or generally in school, we’re all chained to education, and it’s hard to break free from all the drama of grades, detentions, and love. you meet people you want to spend time with, you meet people you hate, you have to do well or there are consequences. but what do you do once your best isn’t good enough?
locked up no hope
no freedom
no change
prison, punishment, alone, my brother
trapped in the cellar and the dungeon with a dragon and a werewolf tomorrow the sun will shine and i will be free the queen will save me yesterday
i give up i dont wanna write about fucking CHAINED what is the point of this shit. grrr i hate school
hot kinky sex.=p
Chains remind of me of commitments,
grabbing people, holding them down.
Working against people’s dreams,
keeping them from going-
Even something like Love can be a chain,
a benevolent chain, a hated chain,
how do you know what kind of chain it is?
I can’t figure it out.
They might as well have been. A horrible attraction: Hooks, strung-together jewels, hearts and desires, danger and hatred. He pulled and she stumbled forward; she tried to run away, and couldn’t.
Chained to the fence. Scared, barking angrily at the kids that walked by. He could only see them at one-eigth intervals through the wooden privacy fence, but his eyes were keen.
It was dark and there was something around her wrists. Cold. Metal. It was too hard to figure out where she was. A basement? An attic? Regardless, she was in trouble.
As the guards dragged me across the hard stone of the castle I winced has something sharp pierced my heel. A small trail of blood could be seen from my foot. Why had this happened? Why does there have to be war? My country was only trying to make peace! And I was trying to help! But i got caught up in my own fantasy with the enemy’s son. How could I do that to my people? I groaned as the guards dropped me and chained me to the dungeon wall.
I think of a man I met once who thought chains were sexy on a woman. And about how I’m chained to my desk for most of the week, chained to my rent, my boyfriend, my family and other obligations. How I used to be free and enjoy life. I must be very sexy to the man I met, now.
locked, lost, fear, cold, wet, damp, horror, taken,
To be chained like an animal is cruel. People shouldn’t be chained and only animals should be chained if they are a threat to humans. Another chained would be to connect pieces together in order to make a chain.
I am chained in this room. I do not like this room. It is small. It is suffocating. I cannot take it any longer. The time is running out. I will die chained to this room. No. Do not. Leave me. Chained to this room.
Chained? That sounds like the title of a bad fanfic. Something involving Kirk/Spock, most likely. Them in a cave when Spock goes into pon farr and the whole thing unfolds in a tedious and predictable manner.
The position I’m in. Maybe we’re all in it in one way or another. Freedom’s just a word. Freedom’s a commercial on TV.
Chained to this desk until the finals are graded then…then I can start on the things I keep putting off at home. Just other chains, but I’m ready to trade these in for those.
Tomorrow is another day
linked and pulled , shackled, with pain
rusty and swinging and tethered to life
ungiving and weary
fogged up with mist
raring to go
getting ready to shift.
The chains as they sway
with mighty power
and strife
leap free from these chains
and start up your life.
I feel so Chained up and hidden from the world as if all that I do is because of my father, who runs my life unfairly. I love Sir William Strafford, and though he is a poor farmer, and I a member of court to serve my queen sister, He is promised me a home life in the country with my Daughter. Nothing I do, I do of my own volition. It is ordered upon me by either my father, or my mother, or even worse, my Uncle.
Locked up in a basement, chained to the walls, like an animal. Lost and lonely, with no exit in sight. Not knowing what my next move should be. I spot tools and think about an escape. But what if I make a move, and there’s really no way out of here? So deep in thought with deciding what to do or how to save myself. I hear a noise, sounding like a door. Is my prayer coming true?
chained to life. i am chained. alice in chains. chained to society. chained.
I am chained by my inhabitions. Imagine if I could free myself. I would sing out loud in public, spin crazy ballerina circles in the grocery store, walk my goat on a leash into fancy stores smiling. I would call out HELLO FRIEND to strangers, wear things that don’t come close to matching because they are soft. Perhaps tomorrow I will try.
The necklace sits upon my neck, its silver heart keeping all my love inside. its so beautiful and it looks so graceful just sitting there. It makes my neck look so elegant, but at the same time weighting me down, fore now, ill forever be bound to you with this chain.
the cold hurtful metal trapped around my wrists are a reminder everyday, of my horror and wrong doings. They allow for no change or remorse, but of permanent judgement and a filth drenched conscious.
Chained. Not a fan of this word. At all.
Chained down. Not in reality, perhaps, but in spirit, yes. There’s no escape from the past and the heavy chains will be dragged into the future.
After so much excitement, so much relief, so much truth telling and exploration, this ball and chain are still here. They are still digging into my flesh, even more so, and I want more than ever that they didn’t exist. If only my wish could make it real. If only dreams coming true were that easy. It turns out that it’s hard work, and the pretty pastel picture that I painted for my life–the one that is making me gag at the thought–is harder to escape. This is going to take more effort than simply making a decision. It is going to take action. Follow-through. Faith that all if it is for the right outcome, the real right outcome. Until I lose myself in that faith and that action, all at the same time, no time, and all the time, I will be chained to the nagging, splenda-sweetened, good life.