A family. Shameless? Yes. The meaning of dysfuntional. My group of friends. I miss them. So much. I hate the surface level activity of college. A frat party – alcoholics all around and drunk girls – now that’s really dysfuntional. Get me out of here.
dyfunctional? wow talk about it.. my life, my family. Dysfunctional has beent the struggle i call life. What i would give for normalcy, simplicity. I hate this world i’ve created for myself. FUCK ITTTTTTTTTT Live
Yes, you. The one with the big hair who parented me. You & this lousy dipshit clone society we relegate ourselves to, amid crunches of cheerios & forgotten dreams. Once upon a time there was a cave then someone drew a bison on it & a fire crackled, smelling still of earth.
It hadn’t occurred to me that we were dysfunctional. Different and argumentative, yes. But dysfunctional… It hurt to see my daughter say those words to the therapist, and his agreeing nod only made the weight on my chest heavier. Had we raised some sort of mutant family? Have we been blind to our children’s strife? Where did we go wrong?
my family… i thought it was just my family but as I got older it is all family. that is what real family is… dysfunctional. Because we are all broken an messed up and we tend to hurt the ones we love most. But, you know what? this also make life quite interesting
My family. There exists a stereotype on the “normal family”. I see picket fences, morning coffee, late night board games, and above all, smiles. My family exists as nothing more than statues. Rock. Little warmth and cohesion exist to constitute a functioning family.
That is my family. That is every family. Who ever hears of a functional family. People cling to their dysfunction. They love it. Without dysfunction what defines us? What makes us different from any average Joe. No. We need it, must keep it. There is no question, and when someone gets to close, we strike.
Dysfunctional is this goddamn apartment. With one roommate flashing everyone, the other…well…flashing everyone, and myself, I’m surprised the landlord hasn’t kicked us out yet. But it’s all good, it’s like a family. It’s perfectly dysfunctional. Dysfunctional to the point of madness, sometimes.
Home. Life. Everything. I feel melodramatic, but it’s true. Everything just feels crazy, and like it’s falling apart. How does one become functional again?
dysfunctional are my words and my brain and my family w e are wires all jumbled and radio signals out of sync with time oh my my bones too are a mime of something that was never there, never anywhere. stumbling block and crosshatch and skin the color of cardboard
I wouldn’t work, it just could not work…..
Life, i what i meant, life did not work, everyway you looked at it…life or the meaning, the absolut function of it…well it had vanished from grasp.It was dysfunctional.Fully and absolutely in the most absolut of manners. A dysfunctional concept. Or so i thought when i lost my cellphone charger.
Our whole relationship is dysfunctional. Not a specific ‘our’, but a relative statement. Every single relationship formed between two people is always dysfunctional at some level. Whether that level be a high one or a very small one, it’s there. Because everyone has baggage, and with baggage comes at least a little dysfunction.
The easy chair, suffice to say, was clearly dysfunctional. It was missing an entire leg and yet… It had such a beautiful, earthy quality to it. As if a lonely, old thrift store chair was the symbol of humanity itself.
She was so dysfunctional. She couldn’t do anything without the memory of her loved ones washing back over her, like waves of grief. She would brake down and cry every time. She just couldn’t help it.
Everyone’s family is a bit dysfunctional. It’s just that some find out when they’re kids, and others find out when they’re thrust into a strange world – called adulthood.
She wasn’t maniacal, she wasn’t anything that couldn’t be recognized. Just something that couldn’t be helped.
And no matter how many friends thought they could, or pretended to think it didn’t exist, dysfunctional tendencies were a part of the life she was stuck leading.
Dysfunctional family is such a cliche. But just so happens is the truth. We push things under until the pressure is just to strong then we explode and loose what little family we have left. Now there are only two.
You, me, this. Us. All of it. My life, your life, their lives, even the air we breath is somehow all tangled around us like a web of confusion. Dysfunction. Horrible and beautiful as it decays my tissue in a matter of hours. Your bones still intertwined in mine, reaching and praying that we’ll find a way. We’ll find a way. You, me, this. Us. Miserable, terrifying, mystifying and delusional. I could make it easier on myself and just tell you how it is. I could find smaller, easier words to fit what I mean. But this is dysfunctional. And dysfunctional means I can’t find enough words to spit it out.
a system that really doesn’t make sense. we’re all a little strange and messed up. being dysfyunctional approprioately follows that. many times we search for the function to be correct, but a little chaos and mystery and failure make things more interesting. just as I missed spelled dysfunctional and appropriately, despite the word being right infront of me.
un-working
un-happening
un-willing
non -communicating
un-spoken
dysfunction
your dysfunctional
and i wont take it
I have had it
this is not how things should be!
you and me
are turning out to be
dysfunction of we.
my family. my childhood and everyone else around me. society. work. work mates. everything that seems to exsite in a life time. who vers life that maybe. we are all dysfunctional. but thats the way i like it. cause nothing is ever functional.
Is it just me? No it can’t be. We all are dysfunctional in some way, just some more so than others. My one class is teaching me a lot about disabilities and what it really means. There is a huge difference between a disadvantage and a disability. It is always good to laugh at ourselves and the dysfunctional days we have but it is never beneficial to make fun of someone else’s disability. We’re here, but we’re all struggling in different ways and must all learn to accept people for who they are on the inside.
Jeez, could her family be any more dysfunctional? She doubted it. Her older brother was flunking his way out of college, her baby sister was whoring her way onto the cheerleading team, and her parents were sleeping in separate rooms, yet refusing to admit there was something wrong. And absolutely refusing to consider divorce, despite the fact that it would make everything better for everyone.
Everything is a mess. We just do things, we move, we are out of order. Little machines, I said. Clicking. Whirring. I liked the wheels, the roundness of us moving and panicking and never really getting from A to B; we were awful. I loved the chaos, we were only chaos, and there was brilliance in the fury of our of limbs.
She couldn’t concentrate, no, it had to happen during the middle of the biggest final in her class. She couldn’t concentrate, no no, no birds, clouds, no sun-dotted rays on the landscape, no nothing distractions, this was not a no-nothing distraction; this was a big-something distraction. This big-something distraction that had appeared only twice before, and was out to get her again. No, not this time, she could always make up her life and future later.
Holy crap do I work in a dysfunctional work environment. For example, last week after I had done my side work, I typed up the specials, stuffed them in the menus, wrote the specials on the menu board, sat the first 6 tables to come in and got yelled at by the owner who was just sitting in the office.
As if I thought this day could get any more dysfunctional, I found myself curled beneath the park bench muttering to myself and wondering where I had left my keys. It was unlike me to be scatter brained, but that was easy for me to scream from where I was huddled with a giant coffee stain down the front of my once stark white shirt.
I cried and pled to Eurus
When He chanced to blow my way
Believing it to be the wind
That pelted me all through the day
I thought it all a trick of Notus
Boreas or Zephyr,
Without knowing
Who any were,
Though now I know much better.
Functional is such a boring word. No one ever described something that the loved or cared deeply about as functional. It’s never something that makes you heap praise on something. And yet, dysfunctional is such a bad word, personally and aesthetically. No one would ever want to be called dysfunctional.
A dysfunctional family, a lonely girl in the middle of it all. Or maybe a lonely boy? Fighting parents or pissy siblings, it’s hell. So dark and scary, lonely and makes them angry.
I wonder how many teenagers believe their families are completely dysfunctional.
Scratch that, I wonder how many people of any age know this.
I sure do.
Though at the end of the day I have to admit, although my mothers a drama queen and my fathers too angry all the time, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
O m g so guess what. My rents aka mom amd dad are totally freggin dysfunctional!!!! So I went on a harmless date with my bf to the movies which my rents knew about and they sneaked in the dang movie and waatxhed us. Btws my bf aka best friend which is a guy and btw also my rents know about this, anyways they sit there Nd watch us and my best friend mason leans over to tell me about a part i missed when i went to the bathrrom to pee and my mother came up to us and screamed about how irresponsible we were and did mason know the rate of teen pregnancy. WHAT THE HECK? I mean come one and then my dad came over and told mason all this would lead to was an unwanted problem of a ruined friend ship. I then turned around and said look what are you talking about ehy are you here and btws i went pee walla go and he was telling me what happened im not gonna get pregnant. Then to make my rents mad mason stood up and kissed me and turned to my mom and said does she look pregnant to you? Then i got grounded for nothing and latter that nightmy mom asked me why i mad out with mason in the movie theater. Then i said i didnt and she started to cry and said she was sorry and then mt dad yelled at me and said i made her cry. Talk about dysfunctional.
it’s a word that is most commonly associated with “family”; having major issues/problems with in a group, invention, friends, etc., unusual
A family. Shameless? Yes. The meaning of dysfuntional. My group of friends. I miss them. So much. I hate the surface level activity of college. A frat party – alcoholics all around and drunk girls – now that’s really dysfuntional. Get me out of here.
dyfunctional? wow talk about it.. my life, my family. Dysfunctional has beent the struggle i call life. What i would give for normalcy, simplicity. I hate this world i’ve created for myself. FUCK ITTTTTTTTTT Live
Yes, you. The one with the big hair who parented me. You & this lousy dipshit clone society we relegate ourselves to, amid crunches of cheerios & forgotten dreams. Once upon a time there was a cave then someone drew a bison on it & a fire crackled, smelling still of earth.
It hadn’t occurred to me that we were dysfunctional. Different and argumentative, yes. But dysfunctional… It hurt to see my daughter say those words to the therapist, and his agreeing nod only made the weight on my chest heavier. Had we raised some sort of mutant family? Have we been blind to our children’s strife? Where did we go wrong?
my family… i thought it was just my family but as I got older it is all family. that is what real family is… dysfunctional. Because we are all broken an messed up and we tend to hurt the ones we love most. But, you know what? this also make life quite interesting
Steam-punk cogs and springs get worked up,
but break down, in disillusion.
My family. There exists a stereotype on the “normal family”. I see picket fences, morning coffee, late night board games, and above all, smiles. My family exists as nothing more than statues. Rock. Little warmth and cohesion exist to constitute a functioning family.
That is my family. That is every family. Who ever hears of a functional family. People cling to their dysfunction. They love it. Without dysfunction what defines us? What makes us different from any average Joe. No. We need it, must keep it. There is no question, and when someone gets to close, we strike.
Dysfunctional is this goddamn apartment. With one roommate flashing everyone, the other…well…flashing everyone, and myself, I’m surprised the landlord hasn’t kicked us out yet. But it’s all good, it’s like a family. It’s perfectly dysfunctional. Dysfunctional to the point of madness, sometimes.
Home. Life. Everything. I feel melodramatic, but it’s true. Everything just feels crazy, and like it’s falling apart. How does one become functional again?
dysfunctional are my words and my brain and my family w e are wires all jumbled and radio signals out of sync with time oh my my bones too are a mime of something that was never there, never anywhere. stumbling block and crosshatch and skin the color of cardboard
dysfunctional means not working properly…..
machine or any other thing which do some work due to some problem its dysfunctional.
I wouldn’t work, it just could not work…..
Life, i what i meant, life did not work, everyway you looked at it…life or the meaning, the absolut function of it…well it had vanished from grasp.It was dysfunctional.Fully and absolutely in the most absolut of manners. A dysfunctional concept. Or so i thought when i lost my cellphone charger.
Our whole relationship is dysfunctional. Not a specific ‘our’, but a relative statement. Every single relationship formed between two people is always dysfunctional at some level. Whether that level be a high one or a very small one, it’s there. Because everyone has baggage, and with baggage comes at least a little dysfunction.
The easy chair, suffice to say, was clearly dysfunctional. It was missing an entire leg and yet… It had such a beautiful, earthy quality to it. As if a lonely, old thrift store chair was the symbol of humanity itself.
She was so dysfunctional. She couldn’t do anything without the memory of her loved ones washing back over her, like waves of grief. She would brake down and cry every time. She just couldn’t help it.
dysfunctional
eccentric
can’t fit in
a rolling stone thats gathering no moss
a square peg in a round hole
nothing works
Everyone’s family is a bit dysfunctional. It’s just that some find out when they’re kids, and others find out when they’re thrust into a strange world – called adulthood.
She wasn’t maniacal, she wasn’t anything that couldn’t be recognized. Just something that couldn’t be helped.
And no matter how many friends thought they could, or pretended to think it didn’t exist, dysfunctional tendencies were a part of the life she was stuck leading.
uh. dysfunctional. it’s sound sounds dysfunctional. it doesn’t roll off the tongue like laugh bald or glum.
My family.
Broken.
Crazy.
Fun.
Loving.
Dysfunctional.
Dysfunctional family is such a cliche. But just so happens is the truth. We push things under until the pressure is just to strong then we explode and loose what little family we have left. Now there are only two.
You, me, this. Us. All of it. My life, your life, their lives, even the air we breath is somehow all tangled around us like a web of confusion. Dysfunction. Horrible and beautiful as it decays my tissue in a matter of hours. Your bones still intertwined in mine, reaching and praying that we’ll find a way. We’ll find a way. You, me, this. Us. Miserable, terrifying, mystifying and delusional. I could make it easier on myself and just tell you how it is. I could find smaller, easier words to fit what I mean. But this is dysfunctional. And dysfunctional means I can’t find enough words to spit it out.
Show me the world seen from the stars. Life here is too small and dysfunctional. It must be peaceful up in the sky.
a system that really doesn’t make sense. we’re all a little strange and messed up. being dysfyunctional approprioately follows that. many times we search for the function to be correct, but a little chaos and mystery and failure make things more interesting. just as I missed spelled dysfunctional and appropriately, despite the word being right infront of me.
un-working
un-happening
un-willing
non -communicating
un-spoken
dysfunction
your dysfunctional
and i wont take it
I have had it
this is not how things should be!
you and me
are turning out to be
dysfunction of we.
my family. my childhood and everyone else around me. society. work. work mates. everything that seems to exsite in a life time. who vers life that maybe. we are all dysfunctional. but thats the way i like it. cause nothing is ever functional.
Is it just me? No it can’t be. We all are dysfunctional in some way, just some more so than others. My one class is teaching me a lot about disabilities and what it really means. There is a huge difference between a disadvantage and a disability. It is always good to laugh at ourselves and the dysfunctional days we have but it is never beneficial to make fun of someone else’s disability. We’re here, but we’re all struggling in different ways and must all learn to accept people for who they are on the inside.
Jeez, could her family be any more dysfunctional? She doubted it. Her older brother was flunking his way out of college, her baby sister was whoring her way onto the cheerleading team, and her parents were sleeping in separate rooms, yet refusing to admit there was something wrong. And absolutely refusing to consider divorce, despite the fact that it would make everything better for everyone.
Everything is a mess. We just do things, we move, we are out of order. Little machines, I said. Clicking. Whirring. I liked the wheels, the roundness of us moving and panicking and never really getting from A to B; we were awful. I loved the chaos, we were only chaos, and there was brilliance in the fury of our of limbs.
She couldn’t concentrate, no, it had to happen during the middle of the biggest final in her class. She couldn’t concentrate, no no, no birds, clouds, no sun-dotted rays on the landscape, no nothing distractions, this was not a no-nothing distraction; this was a big-something distraction. This big-something distraction that had appeared only twice before, and was out to get her again. No, not this time, she could always make up her life and future later.
Holy crap do I work in a dysfunctional work environment. For example, last week after I had done my side work, I typed up the specials, stuffed them in the menus, wrote the specials on the menu board, sat the first 6 tables to come in and got yelled at by the owner who was just sitting in the office.
As if I thought this day could get any more dysfunctional, I found myself curled beneath the park bench muttering to myself and wondering where I had left my keys. It was unlike me to be scatter brained, but that was easy for me to scream from where I was huddled with a giant coffee stain down the front of my once stark white shirt.
Their family was dysfunctional, there was no doubt about that.
Each member an orphan, yet each and every one of them were closer than blood.
The billionaire. The circus freak, The street rat. The genius. The demon child. And all cared for by the family-friend/butler/grandfather/father.
The Batmen and Robins.
Dysfunctional? Definitely.
I cried and pled to Eurus
When He chanced to blow my way
Believing it to be the wind
That pelted me all through the day
I thought it all a trick of Notus
Boreas or Zephyr,
Without knowing
Who any were,
Though now I know much better.
Functional is such a boring word. No one ever described something that the loved or cared deeply about as functional. It’s never something that makes you heap praise on something. And yet, dysfunctional is such a bad word, personally and aesthetically. No one would ever want to be called dysfunctional.
A dysfunctional family, a lonely girl in the middle of it all. Or maybe a lonely boy? Fighting parents or pissy siblings, it’s hell. So dark and scary, lonely and makes them angry.
I wonder how many teenagers believe their families are completely dysfunctional.
Scratch that, I wonder how many people of any age know this.
I sure do.
Though at the end of the day I have to admit, although my mothers a drama queen and my fathers too angry all the time, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
O m g so guess what. My rents aka mom amd dad are totally freggin dysfunctional!!!! So I went on a harmless date with my bf to the movies which my rents knew about and they sneaked in the dang movie and waatxhed us. Btws my bf aka best friend which is a guy and btw also my rents know about this, anyways they sit there Nd watch us and my best friend mason leans over to tell me about a part i missed when i went to the bathrrom to pee and my mother came up to us and screamed about how irresponsible we were and did mason know the rate of teen pregnancy. WHAT THE HECK? I mean come one and then my dad came over and told mason all this would lead to was an unwanted problem of a ruined friend ship. I then turned around and said look what are you talking about ehy are you here and btws i went pee walla go and he was telling me what happened im not gonna get pregnant. Then to make my rents mad mason stood up and kissed me and turned to my mom and said does she look pregnant to you? Then i got grounded for nothing and latter that nightmy mom asked me why i mad out with mason in the movie theater. Then i said i didnt and she started to cry and said she was sorry and then mt dad yelled at me and said i made her cry. Talk about dysfunctional.