Cut it out. I need to cut it out. I need to move away. Stop letting people in this town bother me. Find some peace. Where will I find it? In myself I am sure. I will tend to my problems and let them go, not cut them out.
Think back to a time where you had you’re first set of teeth. Naturally you had that inclination to be innocent, you could use it to get what you wanted, and all you wanted to do was to play with yur friends. That was a time when we were young, we were kids, perhaps in the first grade, and that is when I remember those angel cutouts. It was as if my innocence had been shaped, determined, measures, and then infused into a motif, perhaps that was the reason…
If I could, I would pay an artist to make a detailed cut out of you. This detailed image would include your insane thoughts and the terrible things you have done to me in the name of selfish behaviour. Then, when it’s done, I will take this beautiful cutout and place it on your doorstep. I will then set it ablaze and watch your face drip onto the concrete as the cardboard screams in delight.
I cut out the growth on her back. It was still moving. I t fell to the floor and when i tried to pick it up it fell through my fingers. The salt on the floor was difficult to clean up.
So I was sitting in my room, finishing up this gigantic mural for the wall, when a large black raven flew in through the window and sat next to me. With beady eyes and jet-black beak he asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was making a mural, and proceeding to ask him why he could talk. He then asked me simply why could I make murals.
sicorss idk how to spell it but o well cutout my heart its all yours i gave it to u and u nevr gave it back to me u broke it into a million pieces and then i stiil coudnt sut u out of my mind you were like a permanent organ
The cardboard cutout of my hero stands by my door. I look at her, and I smile a little. But she will NEVER be real. She cannot breathe, or love or live. She is nothing. I frown a little and sigh. Maybe having her made was not such a good idea. What good is a hero who you can touch, but who cannot touch you?
Cut out that shape out of the construction paper. Get out your scissors and glue, and if you’re particularly inspired, your glitter. Make patterns. Make paper chains. Give your scissors a workout. Remember when we used to make those snowflakes in elementary school?
I want these things removed. I will drop the litter and refuse in my body and give up the trash that the packrat in me defines as important. I am not my past, I am influenced by it, but who I was is not who I am no more than who I am is who I will be. My past may be a part of me, but it is not my present.
She was cutting out little shapes from the paper. Her mom wasn’t paying attention. Instead she would stare at the glowing computer screen for hours at end. The little girl was using the “big people” scissors and accidentally cut herself. He cry carried across the whole house.
There are holes in my world,
Cutouts in various shapes,
Mocking what I am missing,
And urging me to guess at what they may be.
There are holes in my world,
Cutouts shaped like you.
I looked across the locker room. I could feel someone’s eyes boring into the back of my head. Was it the strange girl with pink hair who didn’t shower? No. Was it valerie, the “it-girl” who never stooped down to speak to me? No. It was the lifesize cardboard cutout of Michael Phelps hawking a sprint phone that was drilling holes in the back of my head. (Author’s note: this is a true story. He attended my middle school, and they really put a lifesize cutout of him in the locker room. You can’t even imagine how creepy it was.
once upon a time, a small tiny little girl flipped through a large magazine with words she didnt know the meanings of, clipping and cutting out various things she took fondness of, weather it be her future, or things in the past her soul recognized them and she kept them in a tiny little folder beside her bed.
i cutout those smiles that once showered me with a sunlit glaze of cottonwool love. i don’t think of myself as silly with things like that.perhaps just deluded. but there you were
the paper to make a pattern that resembles a snowflake made of paper that would be unique just like real snowflakes.Charming wouldny you agreee that this takes longer than you may think but the words will flow if you stop thinking and just do what ever it is you want to do.
Cut it out! Then what you have left is the cutout and the empty space where my heart used to be. Take away the pain with you when you walk out the door. Don’t bother slamming it, let me do that in my very own enraged way.
very nice word one word. partly grey partly black. all gonna go down. its just ego. like everyone’s got one. i got one. the one i got is the one u got so we all got the same one :) thats it!
When you take a magazine and find something interesting to cut out. Then you take this piece and glue it on to another piece of paper. You can also cut out a paper doll, for example. A cut out is something that interests you, you cut it out, and use it for something else.
He was cut out to be the hero of some anicient ballad, not the tech. supervisor of a service company. But nobody realized this so when the gig faltered, he was one of the first to be let out.
I had a little barbie cutout when I was younger. It provided endless hours of entertainment for me. She got to wear fancy dresses, cute shirts, short shorts, high heels, everything I couldn’t wear as a five year old. Some would say it’s a bit weird that little girls can live vicariously through their dolls. I say it’s just fun.
i saw a cut out of you, and smiled, i miss you dear. i wish we could have stayed.. im sorry for the things i said, now drag my back into the reality where all i have left is a cardboard memory.
I held the slip of paper carefully in my hand and cutout,each part,bit by bit.All these pieces held all the memories that were meant to be forgotten.And soon,what is left would be nothing.
According to Cutout magazine, there are many ways to please your significant other. Household shadows can be sewn together into a handsome couch cover. Leftovers can be converted into sandbag filling to stem the rising river. And if you stand on your head, a frown can be transmuted to platinum.
paper dolls and candied hearts (rosy, red-pink cheeks). and childhood memories of decorating the christmas tree with paper people chains and paper mached baubles with cut out stars.
The paper dolls looked so cute sitting on his dresser. Her held himself tightly thinking of the day he helped his little sister with that cut-out. He remembered the mis-hap withthe sissors and the cutting of the bed sheet.
one wonders why we have such an odd word at all. it is not the verb to cut out but the actual object that has been cut out. like it doesn’t fit in any other words. like we have to somehow define an object by it’s removal from everything else. one more way that we try to categorize every little thing. I wonder what the word is in other languages now? do they have a word for something that has been cut out? perhaps I should ask someone. . .
Cut it out. I need to cut it out. I need to move away. Stop letting people in this town bother me. Find some peace. Where will I find it? In myself I am sure. I will tend to my problems and let them go, not cut them out.
Think back to a time where you had you’re first set of teeth. Naturally you had that inclination to be innocent, you could use it to get what you wanted, and all you wanted to do was to play with yur friends. That was a time when we were young, we were kids, perhaps in the first grade, and that is when I remember those angel cutouts. It was as if my innocence had been shaped, determined, measures, and then infused into a motif, perhaps that was the reason…
If I could, I would pay an artist to make a detailed cut out of you. This detailed image would include your insane thoughts and the terrible things you have done to me in the name of selfish behaviour. Then, when it’s done, I will take this beautiful cutout and place it on your doorstep. I will then set it ablaze and watch your face drip onto the concrete as the cardboard screams in delight.
I hate that the only thing coming to peoples minds has to do with their hearts being cut out the word can be brighter then that.
I cut out the growth on her back. It was still moving. I t fell to the floor and when i tried to pick it up it fell through my fingers. The salt on the floor was difficult to clean up.
The images,
The tears,
They cut out your heart,
and leave you damaged,
And crying on the floor.
A bunch of pieces stuck together. Taken from their home. Bits and parts of other minds. leaves behind a hole where the memory was.
So I was sitting in my room, finishing up this gigantic mural for the wall, when a large black raven flew in through the window and sat next to me. With beady eyes and jet-black beak he asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was making a mural, and proceeding to ask him why he could talk. He then asked me simply why could I make murals.
sicorss idk how to spell it but o well cutout my heart its all yours i gave it to u and u nevr gave it back to me u broke it into a million pieces and then i stiil coudnt sut u out of my mind you were like a permanent organ
The cardboard cutout of my hero stands by my door. I look at her, and I smile a little. But she will NEVER be real. She cannot breathe, or love or live. She is nothing. I frown a little and sigh. Maybe having her made was not such a good idea. What good is a hero who you can touch, but who cannot touch you?
cutout something is to take a part of something off. For example, cutout a piece of pizza.
cutout from a picture, from life, from a family, cutout from the future. it’s how i feel sometimes. extracted from reality.
Cut out that shape out of the construction paper. Get out your scissors and glue, and if you’re particularly inspired, your glitter. Make patterns. Make paper chains. Give your scissors a workout. Remember when we used to make those snowflakes in elementary school?
I want these things removed. I will drop the litter and refuse in my body and give up the trash that the packrat in me defines as important. I am not my past, I am influenced by it, but who I was is not who I am no more than who I am is who I will be. My past may be a part of me, but it is not my present.
She was cutting out little shapes from the paper. Her mom wasn’t paying attention. Instead she would stare at the glowing computer screen for hours at end. The little girl was using the “big people” scissors and accidentally cut herself. He cry carried across the whole house.
put something de side out, using the instrument like swissor
There are holes in my world,
Cutouts in various shapes,
Mocking what I am missing,
And urging me to guess at what they may be.
There are holes in my world,
Cutouts shaped like you.
I have cutouts of magazines. Little bits and pieces of what I want my life to be, what it “should” be. Or dreams in cutouts, inspirations in cutouts.
cut me out of the paper life that im living. shape me, style me but don’t tear me. I’m strong but so fragile. Look after me, okay?
I looked across the locker room. I could feel someone’s eyes boring into the back of my head. Was it the strange girl with pink hair who didn’t shower? No. Was it valerie, the “it-girl” who never stooped down to speak to me? No. It was the lifesize cardboard cutout of Michael Phelps hawking a sprint phone that was drilling holes in the back of my head. (Author’s note: this is a true story. He attended my middle school, and they really put a lifesize cutout of him in the locker room. You can’t even imagine how creepy it was.
once upon a time, a small tiny little girl flipped through a large magazine with words she didnt know the meanings of, clipping and cutting out various things she took fondness of, weather it be her future, or things in the past her soul recognized them and she kept them in a tiny little folder beside her bed.
i cutout those smiles that once showered me with a sunlit glaze of cottonwool love. i don’t think of myself as silly with things like that.perhaps just deluded. but there you were
the paper to make a pattern that resembles a snowflake made of paper that would be unique just like real snowflakes.Charming wouldny you agreee that this takes longer than you may think but the words will flow if you stop thinking and just do what ever it is you want to do.
Cut it out! Then what you have left is the cutout and the empty space where my heart used to be. Take away the pain with you when you walk out the door. Don’t bother slamming it, let me do that in my very own enraged way.
very nice word one word. partly grey partly black. all gonna go down. its just ego. like everyone’s got one. i got one. the one i got is the one u got so we all got the same one :) thats it!
When you take a magazine and find something interesting to cut out. Then you take this piece and glue it on to another piece of paper. You can also cut out a paper doll, for example. A cut out is something that interests you, you cut it out, and use it for something else.
cutout coupons!
not eatouts!
great now there’s a blackout!
stayout! getout!
fallout
He was cut out to be the hero of some anicient ballad, not the tech. supervisor of a service company. But nobody realized this so when the gig faltered, he was one of the first to be let out.
I had a little barbie cutout when I was younger. It provided endless hours of entertainment for me. She got to wear fancy dresses, cute shirts, short shorts, high heels, everything I couldn’t wear as a five year old. Some would say it’s a bit weird that little girls can live vicariously through their dolls. I say it’s just fun.
i saw a cut out of you, and smiled, i miss you dear. i wish we could have stayed.. im sorry for the things i said, now drag my back into the reality where all i have left is a cardboard memory.
I held the slip of paper carefully in my hand and cutout,each part,bit by bit.All these pieces held all the memories that were meant to be forgotten.And soon,what is left would be nothing.
According to Cutout magazine, there are many ways to please your significant other. Household shadows can be sewn together into a handsome couch cover. Leftovers can be converted into sandbag filling to stem the rising river. And if you stand on your head, a frown can be transmuted to platinum.
paper dolls and candied hearts (rosy, red-pink cheeks). and childhood memories of decorating the christmas tree with paper people chains and paper mached baubles with cut out stars.
there were cutouts on the dead man’s face which disgusted everyone who saw it.
The paper dolls looked so cute sitting on his dresser. Her held himself tightly thinking of the day he helped his little sister with that cut-out. He remembered the mis-hap withthe sissors and the cutting of the bed sheet.
Cutout? Not cut it out, or cut a piece out, but cutout? Really? Really? Bullshit, pure unbiased bullshit.
paper and scissors. that’s basically all you need right? then what do you do with the cutout? i don’t know …
you could make someone happy :) by making a mobile made of cutouts for them i guess… make them useful somehow
other than that cutouts aren’t really.. helpful to anyone… or positive.. they just look good
i guess you could cutout a heart and give it to someone :)
*Dzzzt*
Black out. We can’t see, what if the world suddently changed ?
delete. Delete. DELETE FUCKING EVERYTHING. Cut it out, paste. Copypasta cutout. This is not what you think it is. Cut it out.
one wonders why we have such an odd word at all. it is not the verb to cut out but the actual object that has been cut out. like it doesn’t fit in any other words. like we have to somehow define an object by it’s removal from everything else. one more way that we try to categorize every little thing. I wonder what the word is in other languages now? do they have a word for something that has been cut out? perhaps I should ask someone. . .