Things had changed between them. What used to be stronger than iron was now no more than shattered glass. The distance between them only increased the divide, but now he had someone new. Someone new to be with and it ached deep in her bones.
He was someone you could call a divider. Being a divider meant to have power. Having power about any decisions involving dividing people. Dividing people into groups. Into strong groups and into weak groups. And he would see which groups would survive and find out the reason why they survived.
i think a divider is a person who can fairly divide somthing between others. or it may be a kind of equipment that cuts things in two. for example, for cutting bread or soimthing
A divider may be useful in geometry but it has an unfortunate name and feels like a broken bridge that fails to connect the two sides of a lost city. I used to have a divider at school and feel glad that I lost it.
A divider is something that separates to different entities. A synonym is partition. Instead of unifying things, it keeps them apart. Sometimes, separation is essential for peace; however, conflict resolution without dividers would be preferred.
the most important thing in a binder is a divider. The divider simply keeps all of your notes and papers organized and secure. Most people have 8 -10 dividers in their binder.
Sometimes he’d catch words and bits of phrases coming through the divider. “Asshat”, “tyrant”, and “dummy” uttered just loud enough to pique his interest. Once, he thought of pressing his ear against the wooden panel to get a better listen, but he didn’t. It would really suck if the asshat she hated was him.
It wsa a simple piece of card. A4 in size. Standard. Yet she had a strange affection for it. She suspected it was the colour and the fact that she had now owned it for 25 years and it still held the same place for her. The place in the folder she visited at least once a day for 25 years
The room divider was way too big and as a result it could not fit into the house.I was very upset about the situation, because I given the measurement of the room to my brother who had purchased it.
The ax came down, narrowly missing her slender arms as she recoiled against the stone wall of the throne room. She brought her rapier to her chest, panting heavily as she looked for anyone, anything, that could help her escape. The room was bare, she was in trouble. The princess knew if she didn’t think of something quickly the great divider would soon be brought down upon her neck. The hulking brute took another swing, missing her nose by mere inches. Things were not looking good for the young princess.
I think i need to invest in a sort of three ring binder divider except for my life. Do they make those? someone should make those, they would probably get really rich. I would buy a lot of those. I need to learn how to compartmentalize.
Dividers come in many different forms. Whether we’re talking about dividers in a binder, or dividers as an emotional tool. That which divides. An interesting thought is how often we put up dividers on things that should not be separated.
“What is divider?” I ask. A feeling, an emotion we get, when we are separated from our friend in class because we are constantly gossiping about our classmates. The feeling we get when we are separated from our books. The feeling when we get when we finally got over our emotions about a particular thing. Yes, it is a word which haunts all the people in this world.
She rode the motorcycle at breakneck speed down the Western Express Highway, away from the man who had been chasing her. it was a victory of sorts as she saw him stop and gasp for breath. But then she turned back to the road and could not react to the divider that shot up close like a hellfire missile.
He was driving very dangerously. The passenger asked him to slow down as he was scared, but this further agitated him. He kept overtaking the slow moving traffic and almost hit the divider.
As the stranger stroke confidently through the square, whispers exploded in her wake, “A Divider? Here?”
An old man crossed himself and Kaylee frowned, “Tis a bad omen indeed, this is,”
Unable to resist she leaned close, “What’s a Divider?” she whispered but he waved her off and she only just resisted the urge to seize and break his fingers. So much for the kindness of strangers.
“Damn this …. UGH!” Yumichika screeched, kicking a hole straight through the paper shutter he’d been trying to fix for the last ten minutes.
“Holy shit, calm down,” Ikkaku called from where he was doing sit ups in his academy uniform.
“I can’t see that cute little boy with this stupid thing in the way,” Yumichika whined, still messing with the stupid thing, looking at the damage he’d caused. “Oh, what a shame.”
“Hisagi Shuuhei? Tch’, he’s not so little,” Ikkaku spat. “He’s everyone’s boy hero, here.”
“Yes, but I’m his senpai, aren’t I? You saw how starry-eyed he was getting?”
“Oh Pssh.”
“Aw, are you jealous? Nothing could ever come betwee-”
Every year it’s the same thing. Every single divider always rips near the holes and the world turns dark and everything hates me. I hate cheap paper dividers. Plastic is the way to go. My papers become jumbled together and where the paper is loose near the hole, it pops out of the binder and I’m forced to shove the paper back in clumsily and in a hurry. After all, they only give me five minutes in between each period. I cant afford to be late to my next class. I shake off these thoughts as a senior shoves me in the hall. It’s a mess of people, Like those fish that swim fluidly against each other in a giant ball. Except we’re not pretty or reflect light. We look more like confused cows bumping into each other going to the slaughterhouse.
My elbow collides with the bridge of your nose and I don’t feel it but I hear you yell. I whip around and I might have hit someone else in the process, but I don’t care because all I care about is that you’re okay and that you don’t hate me. Your glasses pressed into your eyes and there are a few tears trickling down your face. I apologize profusely, but you’re not the type to take it and you mutter for me to keep walking and so I turn back around and march forward.
“That’s right bitch, keep walking.”
I know you’re joking, really I do. And if it were anyone else whom I had hit, I would probably be moving on already and laughing. But it’s not anyone else, it’s you. It’s all you.
Diving something into something extraordinary especially if the object is the cause of this division. The divider made this ordinary into extraordinary thing happen.
The great wall of tall balls in the mall where I shopped for my girlfriend and she still didn’t like what I got her but I keep trying and trying to satisfy her but the divider is like a division like multiplication oashflahlfhalhahahahahhahahahahah
I glance to my left. The imitation frosted-glass divider remains between us. I can just see his figure there, slouching at his desk. I know my posture is similar. Staring at a computer screen all day is a dull job, and it’s made more so with these new dividers. Gone are the days of easily chatting and maybe even flirting; gone are the days when I actually enjoyed this place.
Sara stood at the barrier, looking up at the towering, gray wall. Rocky, jagged stone edges marked the physical divider between her and the outside world. Ever since Sara was born, she has been trapped inside the walls. They reach for the sky, hundreds and hundreds of feet up with no sight of escape.
Concrete dividers are all that keep the twin rivers of tail lights from merging. A few inches of concrete between me and an oncoming Peterbuilt barrelling down the shining asphalt with a full payload. Is there a long crack in the concrete? Suddenly I don’t feel so safe.
The world is full of people who divide others between themselves. There are men and women who separate themselves, whites and blacks who divide themselves. The world is a divider. And it needs to stop.
There are un-necessary dividers in our world. They start from simple things, the color of your skin, your eyes, your hair. The place you were born, raised. How you say things, what defines you, or what you identify as.
I hardly dared to look at the stamp on my hand. When my eyes betrayed me and flashed down for a second, I felt my stomach fill with lead. My color-blindness didn’t prevent me from seeing that the stamp was most decidedly red. Not blue. Definitely not blue.
I heard sobs from some other room, then a gunshot, then nothing. I bit my tongue and told myself that I would not be that girl, that I would do what the stamp on my hand told me, even if it meant that a divide would be forever wedged between me and the Blues.
It was wrong of me to thing that she could be anything more than the pawn that she had always been, creating a divide between the me that I am and the me that I wanted to be. I couldn’t really blame her though. I was the one who was letting her do it. Letting her divide my attention into a place of broken performances.
I am the great divider. I part the seas at will. When I walk across its bed, I scoop the springs from its sandy mattress and fashion myself a blade. The hilt is coral, the handguard bone. I swing the blade, and the crackling edges of seashells cut through salt as if it were the sun. I am filled to the brim with foamy might. Everything splits where I stand. Everything scuttles away.
In the middle, a grand divider built of cement and steel, columns and bricks and covered, I mean completely covered in… Well, you needed to see it to believe it.
Devided into categories and or subcategories can very well help with any type of organization, as, well as, keep just about everything simplified for even your most meticulously obsessive compulsive disoriented of folks.
The students were in the classroom working so digently on their classwork. Sophia started to laugh because Tony had made several faces at her. The teacher immediately got up a placed a divider between. Sophia finished her work quickly without anymore interruptions.
Things had changed between them. What used to be stronger than iron was now no more than shattered glass. The distance between them only increased the divide, but now he had someone new. Someone new to be with and it ached deep in her bones.
He was someone you could call a divider. Being a divider meant to have power. Having power about any decisions involving dividing people. Dividing people into groups. Into strong groups and into weak groups. And he would see which groups would survive and find out the reason why they survived.
i think a divider is a person who can fairly divide somthing between others. or it may be a kind of equipment that cuts things in two. for example, for cutting bread or soimthing
A divider may be useful in geometry but it has an unfortunate name and feels like a broken bridge that fails to connect the two sides of a lost city. I used to have a divider at school and feel glad that I lost it.
being a divider wasn’t easy
separating people
from other people
or their dreams
or life itself…
But someone had to do it,
And it turned out to be him.
A divider is something that separates to different entities. A synonym is partition. Instead of unifying things, it keeps them apart. Sometimes, separation is essential for peace; however, conflict resolution without dividers would be preferred.
Divider, decider please don’t be a rider. Be outsider
the most important thing in a binder is a divider. The divider simply keeps all of your notes and papers organized and secure. Most people have 8 -10 dividers in their binder.
your eyes are the divider
between my soul’s desire
to kiss your lips
they show grief,
hate
and no yearning for love
Sometimes he’d catch words and bits of phrases coming through the divider. “Asshat”, “tyrant”, and “dummy” uttered just loud enough to pique his interest. Once, he thought of pressing his ear against the wooden panel to get a better listen, but he didn’t. It would really suck if the asshat she hated was him.
It wsa a simple piece of card. A4 in size. Standard. Yet she had a strange affection for it. She suspected it was the colour and the fact that she had now owned it for 25 years and it still held the same place for her. The place in the folder she visited at least once a day for 25 years
The room divider was way too big and as a result it could not fit into the house.I was very upset about the situation, because I given the measurement of the room to my brother who had purchased it.
The ax came down, narrowly missing her slender arms as she recoiled against the stone wall of the throne room. She brought her rapier to her chest, panting heavily as she looked for anyone, anything, that could help her escape. The room was bare, she was in trouble. The princess knew if she didn’t think of something quickly the great divider would soon be brought down upon her neck. The hulking brute took another swing, missing her nose by mere inches. Things were not looking good for the young princess.
I think i need to invest in a sort of three ring binder divider except for my life. Do they make those? someone should make those, they would probably get really rich. I would buy a lot of those. I need to learn how to compartmentalize.
there was a divider between the to girls. They could look at each other but they could not speak. While they sat they worked on division.
Dividers come in many different forms. Whether we’re talking about dividers in a binder, or dividers as an emotional tool. That which divides. An interesting thought is how often we put up dividers on things that should not be separated.
“What is divider?” I ask. A feeling, an emotion we get, when we are separated from our friend in class because we are constantly gossiping about our classmates. The feeling we get when we are separated from our books. The feeling when we get when we finally got over our emotions about a particular thing. Yes, it is a word which haunts all the people in this world.
existing between you
and me
mostly between the parts
of you that
gnash their teeth
at the
other’s rumpus
She rode the motorcycle at breakneck speed down the Western Express Highway, away from the man who had been chasing her. it was a victory of sorts as she saw him stop and gasp for breath. But then she turned back to the road and could not react to the divider that shot up close like a hellfire missile.
He was driving very dangerously. The passenger asked him to slow down as he was scared, but this further agitated him. He kept overtaking the slow moving traffic and almost hit the divider.
As the stranger stroke confidently through the square, whispers exploded in her wake, “A Divider? Here?”
An old man crossed himself and Kaylee frowned, “Tis a bad omen indeed, this is,”
Unable to resist she leaned close, “What’s a Divider?” she whispered but he waved her off and she only just resisted the urge to seize and break his fingers. So much for the kindness of strangers.
What does it take
to overcome
a feeling a being
this numb?
A feeling that isn’t
a feeling at all
But more of a cycle
A burden
A fall
It is here. The divider. Many have fallen, none survived in the hands of the divider. Body parts cut into halves strewn all over the place.
“Damn this …. UGH!” Yumichika screeched, kicking a hole straight through the paper shutter he’d been trying to fix for the last ten minutes.
“Holy shit, calm down,” Ikkaku called from where he was doing sit ups in his academy uniform.
“I can’t see that cute little boy with this stupid thing in the way,” Yumichika whined, still messing with the stupid thing, looking at the damage he’d caused. “Oh, what a shame.”
“Hisagi Shuuhei? Tch’, he’s not so little,” Ikkaku spat. “He’s everyone’s boy hero, here.”
“Yes, but I’m his senpai, aren’t I? You saw how starry-eyed he was getting?”
“Oh Pssh.”
“Aw, are you jealous? Nothing could ever come betwee-”
“Ugh, shut up,” Ikkaku laughed.
Every year it’s the same thing. Every single divider always rips near the holes and the world turns dark and everything hates me. I hate cheap paper dividers. Plastic is the way to go. My papers become jumbled together and where the paper is loose near the hole, it pops out of the binder and I’m forced to shove the paper back in clumsily and in a hurry. After all, they only give me five minutes in between each period. I cant afford to be late to my next class. I shake off these thoughts as a senior shoves me in the hall. It’s a mess of people, Like those fish that swim fluidly against each other in a giant ball. Except we’re not pretty or reflect light. We look more like confused cows bumping into each other going to the slaughterhouse.
My elbow collides with the bridge of your nose and I don’t feel it but I hear you yell. I whip around and I might have hit someone else in the process, but I don’t care because all I care about is that you’re okay and that you don’t hate me. Your glasses pressed into your eyes and there are a few tears trickling down your face. I apologize profusely, but you’re not the type to take it and you mutter for me to keep walking and so I turn back around and march forward.
“That’s right bitch, keep walking.”
I know you’re joking, really I do. And if it were anyone else whom I had hit, I would probably be moving on already and laughing. But it’s not anyone else, it’s you. It’s all you.
Diving something into something extraordinary especially if the object is the cause of this division. The divider made this ordinary into extraordinary thing happen.
The great wall of tall balls in the mall where I shopped for my girlfriend and she still didn’t like what I got her but I keep trying and trying to satisfy her but the divider is like a division like multiplication oashflahlfhalhahahahahhahahahahah
I glance to my left. The imitation frosted-glass divider remains between us. I can just see his figure there, slouching at his desk. I know my posture is similar. Staring at a computer screen all day is a dull job, and it’s made more so with these new dividers. Gone are the days of easily chatting and maybe even flirting; gone are the days when I actually enjoyed this place.
Sara stood at the barrier, looking up at the towering, gray wall. Rocky, jagged stone edges marked the physical divider between her and the outside world. Ever since Sara was born, she has been trapped inside the walls. They reach for the sky, hundreds and hundreds of feet up with no sight of escape.
Concrete dividers are all that keep the twin rivers of tail lights from merging. A few inches of concrete between me and an oncoming Peterbuilt barrelling down the shining asphalt with a full payload. Is there a long crack in the concrete? Suddenly I don’t feel so safe.
The world is full of people who divide others between themselves. There are men and women who separate themselves, whites and blacks who divide themselves. The world is a divider. And it needs to stop.
There are un-necessary dividers in our world. They start from simple things, the color of your skin, your eyes, your hair. The place you were born, raised. How you say things, what defines you, or what you identify as.
She walked along the divider as cars drove pass.
I hardly dared to look at the stamp on my hand. When my eyes betrayed me and flashed down for a second, I felt my stomach fill with lead. My color-blindness didn’t prevent me from seeing that the stamp was most decidedly red. Not blue. Definitely not blue.
I heard sobs from some other room, then a gunshot, then nothing. I bit my tongue and told myself that I would not be that girl, that I would do what the stamp on my hand told me, even if it meant that a divide would be forever wedged between me and the Blues.
It was wrong of me to thing that she could be anything more than the pawn that she had always been, creating a divide between the me that I am and the me that I wanted to be. I couldn’t really blame her though. I was the one who was letting her do it. Letting her divide my attention into a place of broken performances.
I am the great divider. I part the seas at will. When I walk across its bed, I scoop the springs from its sandy mattress and fashion myself a blade. The hilt is coral, the handguard bone. I swing the blade, and the crackling edges of seashells cut through salt as if it were the sun. I am filled to the brim with foamy might. Everything splits where I stand. Everything scuttles away.
In the middle, a grand divider built of cement and steel, columns and bricks and covered, I mean completely covered in… Well, you needed to see it to believe it.
Devided into categories and or subcategories can very well help with any type of organization, as, well as, keep just about everything simplified for even your most meticulously obsessive compulsive disoriented of folks.
The students were in the classroom working so digently on their classwork. Sophia started to laugh because Tony had made several faces at her. The teacher immediately got up a placed a divider between. Sophia finished her work quickly without anymore interruptions.