the action of moving your hips in a circular motion involving a type of dance.
the action of rubbing two objects together that do not have a smooth texture.
I woke up the next morning, my jaw aching and my teeth in pain. I grind my teeth every night now. All the worry and stress is getting to me. Next I am going to see wrinkles.
I stay on my grind. All day. Grind is what you do, it’s a way of living… it’s a hobby, it’s your morning cup of coffee, (no sugar, of course) it’s the air beneath your wings.
gears grind within the machine. the toil of workers slaving their lives away. no thoughts, no news, no ideas. just work. tired under their chains. part of the machine. human components to a larger expression of evil.
I stay on my grind. All day. Grind is what you do, it’s a way of living… it’s a hobby, it’s your morning cup of coffee, (no sugar, of course) it’s the air beneath your wings.
“You know what really grinds my gears?”
“What?”
“Hypocrites. I don’t care what they do, they just, don’t they know what they’re saying?”
“Stuff slips. They don’t seem to mind. If they truly believe it at the moment, then I guess they’re alright.”
I hate when people talk constantly about the “daily grind”. Exactly what about life is a grind? We should all remember that life is wonderful, amazing, spectacular even. It is not a grind. It is not a chore; it’s a gift.
bump and grind. that’s the only thing that comes to mind. ha. clever. I dunno why, maybe it’s because… I’m a teenager, and that’s all I’d think of?
Oh no wait, grind, like you’d grind flour or corn for meal…or… whatever. I know that from playing Runescape…ha don’t even play it totally useless.
Grind. Grind?
Grinding like teeth, or what people pass as dancing these days. Grind like stones, and weapons. Grinding like an annoying voice that won’t get out of your head. Grinding like a serious pain.
On any given day the work load can be such a pain. A complete grind. Grinding one down into the ground. Is this the way people are supposed to live? I would think that we would have found a better way by now.
a form of dancing like not exactly a form but pretty popular among people these when 2 people rub there bodies against each other and dance. It’s meant to be a sexy dance to turn the other person on. Don’t even know why I only typed about that type of grinding and not about what it exactly means :|
two people in a club grinding, basically sex with clothes on in a club. Grinding can also refer to grinding salt or pepper, the action of pounding two things together to produce a fine powder. Teeth grinding also exists, this is done when upper and lower teeth rub together, normally this is a sign of stress and can end up resulting in a headache
Without the sliver of breath on the window
Condensation running dry along the cracks
The pages came turning like galed curtains
Overlooking the road now river
In the car, now canoe, a dog barks for what?
Or who?
The coffee shop was closing. After all these years of loyal coffee-drinking, I was finally going to have to find a new place to get my daily cup of joe. I was almost in tears when I saw that accursed sign.
grinding on someone can ivolve a sexual nature and can usuallty be done at nightclubhs it can also ivolve metal applicances such as spanners and hammers and i think maybe welders use them if you grind on someone up in the club your boyfriend may accuse you wirth cheating which isnt good and technically if you saw him doing that with a girl you would think tghe same
the act of sexually seducing someone, two object rubbing together, making a fire, not sure what to write, mouse, cheese grind pepper, work sipping, stupid, to much money, recession, ugly hats, unfair hours stupid boss, aggravating boss, ewww. ewww. ewww.
cheese grinds my mom has a cheese grater so i guess cheese grates but i guess it could grind. i love cheese it is so yummy. when i was little i loved it to. oh yeah back to grind
People grind too much. Why do people grind? That’s not dancing. Its stupid. Grinding is stupid. Why would anyone call that dancing? Michael Jackson could dance. He didn’t grind. He danced. He spun around and fucking danced, okay? DANCED. Grinding is not dancing you losers. That’s not science. That’s not even dancing. Dancing isn’t science. What would you do if you were at a dance, like homecoming or something and all anyone did was GRIND. Helloooo reason that I don’t go to those. That. Is. Not. Dancing. You. Fuckers. I cursed a lot. That’s not science.
Well, back to the daily grind.
The grind, of course, being waking to the painful knowledge that you slept alone last night. The vision of the subway that you used to ride to his rough but cozy apartment.
You can’t trade the grind in for another, just wait it out.
Grinding my teeth together, I slowly relax. My pace begins to slow, my teeth are biting into each other, and my hands unclench.
Seeing the brunette man exit from the coffee shop, I keep moving by, applying chapstick to my dry lips as I go. I feel the eyes of my watcher as I enter a clothing store. Acting nonchalant as I finger a blue garment, I never let the brunette out of my peripheral vision.
Even with my insides quaking, I’m good at this.
“Can I help you with anything?” a saleslady asks me.
“No, I was just looking.”
“The blue would look splendid on you.”
I’m just about to thank her and march from the store, after my mission, but I have the odd sensation that I’ve heard that before. “Thank you…” I glance at her badge. “Deeliah.”
Rushing from the store, I snap my finger in frustration when I realize the brunette is no where in sight.
Grinding was made to be against the rules at my high school’s dance functions. I find this ridiculous. The teachers claimed that it was “offensive,” but I strongly disagree. Kids are just finding new ways of dancing, and it’s no more “sexy” than what the teachers did at our age during their time, as it was considered. There’s not a thing wrong with it.
We bop and grind against eachother to the rhythm, our movements loosly in sync with the music. Our arms flail and our knees bend and we think we look amazing; me in my too-high-heels that are almost crippleing my poor, poor toes, and you in your ironed shirt and flippy hair. Photographic evidence later will tell us differently, as we try desperately to forget the memory etched on our minds.
My teethed grind together as I walk down the cobble streets. Inside my pockets, my hands clench together. Relax, I tell myself. Relax.
But my eyes are still huge, my pace still a little too brisk, and my teeth are still grinding into each other.
“Settle down,” a person whispers as they bump shoulders with me.
I don’t glance at the person, I know that it’s the person that makes sure I don’t run away.
I can’t trust them anymore. No, they never told me that the green-eyed person, the one who called me Mia, was someone I would remember despite the amnesia that was robbing me.
But that was just it; I only remembered his eyes.
The daily grind. The shuffle of the crowds heading to work, to play, to love, to war. Making the world a better place at a better pace. Progress through lockstep determination, sheer force of will. Joining together to make the journey and reap the rewards, through the valleys mired in filth, the scorching deserts, the tsunamic floods. Carry on and be strong.
The grinding of the coffee beans is a black, crunchy, odoriferous noise. Grinding teeth will set me over the edge, but not as much as grinding the chalk on a board.
grind. as in skateboarding. something i used to know how to do. I remember when i was younger. I would play skateboarding games, skateboard outside, and slide/sled on the skateboard. It was thrilling.
if you take a dream, and grind it against a fear, what will you get? will you get an arrow, pointing you on a path, or will you get a hole, which may lead to your fate? for the universe is unlimited.
Hello
Mi nombre es Paty
estoy estresada
que viene con esto?
donde están mis muebles?
café y rojo, también verde
que va a pasar?
necesito ayuda
por que solo escribo preguntas, me desestresa
el tiempo se acaba
dime algo
que hago
morir
vivir
existir
subrayar
This morning I listened to my blender grind it’s last grind – sad day it’s dead :-( I’ve used that for every slushie and smoothie for 2 years. Time for a new one. I hate getting used to new things
the action of moving your hips in a circular motion involving a type of dance.
the action of rubbing two objects together that do not have a smooth texture.
His teeth didn’t wear them down enough, they still left their mark. Blood coagulated. Red pearls to accentuate each bruise.
I have a thing for the word ‘coagulate’
I woke up the next morning, my jaw aching and my teeth in pain. I grind my teeth every night now. All the worry and stress is getting to me. Next I am going to see wrinkles.
dfgfsgdsgfd
I stay on my grind. All day. Grind is what you do, it’s a way of living… it’s a hobby, it’s your morning cup of coffee, (no sugar, of course) it’s the air beneath your wings.
hello, is it me youre looking for? i can see it in your eyes, i can see it in your smile. and i know that i love you
gears grind within the machine. the toil of workers slaving their lives away. no thoughts, no news, no ideas. just work. tired under their chains. part of the machine. human components to a larger expression of evil.
I stay on my grind. All day. Grind is what you do, it’s a way of living… it’s a hobby, it’s your morning cup of coffee, (no sugar, of course) it’s the air beneath your wings.
“You know what really grinds my gears?”
“What?”
“Hypocrites. I don’t care what they do, they just, don’t they know what they’re saying?”
“Stuff slips. They don’t seem to mind. If they truly believe it at the moment, then I guess they’re alright.”
I hate when people talk constantly about the “daily grind”. Exactly what about life is a grind? We should all remember that life is wonderful, amazing, spectacular even. It is not a grind. It is not a chore; it’s a gift.
bump and grind. that’s the only thing that comes to mind. ha. clever. I dunno why, maybe it’s because… I’m a teenager, and that’s all I’d think of?
Oh no wait, grind, like you’d grind flour or corn for meal…or… whatever. I know that from playing Runescape…ha don’t even play it totally useless.
Grind. Grind?
Grinding like teeth, or what people pass as dancing these days. Grind like stones, and weapons. Grinding like an annoying voice that won’t get out of your head. Grinding like a serious pain.
On any given day the work load can be such a pain. A complete grind. Grinding one down into the ground. Is this the way people are supposed to live? I would think that we would have found a better way by now.
a form of dancing like not exactly a form but pretty popular among people these when 2 people rub there bodies against each other and dance. It’s meant to be a sexy dance to turn the other person on. Don’t even know why I only typed about that type of grinding and not about what it exactly means :|
grind. Back from the daily grind. Hard work. It sounds kind of annoying, not much fun. They grind grain. interesting. reminds me of that one time….
two people in a club grinding, basically sex with clothes on in a club. Grinding can also refer to grinding salt or pepper, the action of pounding two things together to produce a fine powder. Teeth grinding also exists, this is done when upper and lower teeth rub together, normally this is a sign of stress and can end up resulting in a headache
Without the sliver of breath on the window
Condensation running dry along the cracks
The pages came turning like galed curtains
Overlooking the road now river
In the car, now canoe, a dog barks for what?
Or who?
The coffee shop was closing. After all these years of loyal coffee-drinking, I was finally going to have to find a new place to get my daily cup of joe. I was almost in tears when I saw that accursed sign.
grinding on someone can ivolve a sexual nature and can usuallty be done at nightclubhs it can also ivolve metal applicances such as spanners and hammers and i think maybe welders use them if you grind on someone up in the club your boyfriend may accuse you wirth cheating which isnt good and technically if you saw him doing that with a girl you would think tghe same
the act of sexually seducing someone, two object rubbing together, making a fire, not sure what to write, mouse, cheese grind pepper, work sipping, stupid, to much money, recession, ugly hats, unfair hours stupid boss, aggravating boss, ewww. ewww. ewww.
cheese grinds my mom has a cheese grater so i guess cheese grates but i guess it could grind. i love cheese it is so yummy. when i was little i loved it to. oh yeah back to grind
People grind too much. Why do people grind? That’s not dancing. Its stupid. Grinding is stupid. Why would anyone call that dancing? Michael Jackson could dance. He didn’t grind. He danced. He spun around and fucking danced, okay? DANCED. Grinding is not dancing you losers. That’s not science. That’s not even dancing. Dancing isn’t science. What would you do if you were at a dance, like homecoming or something and all anyone did was GRIND. Helloooo reason that I don’t go to those. That. Is. Not. Dancing. You. Fuckers. I cursed a lot. That’s not science.
Friction, tense muscles, & an unbearable rhythm.
I never meant to cause all this trouble, she says.
Take it. Just take it. You can take it.
Well, back to the daily grind.
The grind, of course, being waking to the painful knowledge that you slept alone last night. The vision of the subway that you used to ride to his rough but cozy apartment.
You can’t trade the grind in for another, just wait it out.
The stone grinding against its brethren. Wiping away it’s identity. The cracks and bumps that made it unique. What a world this is.
Grinding my teeth together, I slowly relax. My pace begins to slow, my teeth are biting into each other, and my hands unclench.
Seeing the brunette man exit from the coffee shop, I keep moving by, applying chapstick to my dry lips as I go. I feel the eyes of my watcher as I enter a clothing store. Acting nonchalant as I finger a blue garment, I never let the brunette out of my peripheral vision.
Even with my insides quaking, I’m good at this.
“Can I help you with anything?” a saleslady asks me.
“No, I was just looking.”
“The blue would look splendid on you.”
I’m just about to thank her and march from the store, after my mission, but I have the odd sensation that I’ve heard that before. “Thank you…” I glance at her badge. “Deeliah.”
Rushing from the store, I snap my finger in frustration when I realize the brunette is no where in sight.
Grinding was made to be against the rules at my high school’s dance functions. I find this ridiculous. The teachers claimed that it was “offensive,” but I strongly disagree. Kids are just finding new ways of dancing, and it’s no more “sexy” than what the teachers did at our age during their time, as it was considered. There’s not a thing wrong with it.
We bop and grind against eachother to the rhythm, our movements loosly in sync with the music. Our arms flail and our knees bend and we think we look amazing; me in my too-high-heels that are almost crippleing my poor, poor toes, and you in your ironed shirt and flippy hair. Photographic evidence later will tell us differently, as we try desperately to forget the memory etched on our minds.
My teethed grind together as I walk down the cobble streets. Inside my pockets, my hands clench together. Relax, I tell myself. Relax.
But my eyes are still huge, my pace still a little too brisk, and my teeth are still grinding into each other.
“Settle down,” a person whispers as they bump shoulders with me.
I don’t glance at the person, I know that it’s the person that makes sure I don’t run away.
I can’t trust them anymore. No, they never told me that the green-eyed person, the one who called me Mia, was someone I would remember despite the amnesia that was robbing me.
But that was just it; I only remembered his eyes.
Everyday is a struggle so everyday is a grind.
The daily grind. The shuffle of the crowds heading to work, to play, to love, to war. Making the world a better place at a better pace. Progress through lockstep determination, sheer force of will. Joining together to make the journey and reap the rewards, through the valleys mired in filth, the scorching deserts, the tsunamic floods. Carry on and be strong.
The cheese was gently grinding across the grater. Each dairy shred let off a yellow glow. I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.
Skateboarding is something that opend my mind to the world of beating my fears and limiting believes.
Alone
Utterly, surrounded by seclusion
You
Seeming close in a terrifying way
It makes me think
That as I continue to
Drift
The grinding of the coffee beans is a black, crunchy, odoriferous noise. Grinding teeth will set me over the edge, but not as much as grinding the chalk on a board.
I dont know what grind means, but all I can say is that I am deeply inlove with a french girl and im ready to do anything to keep her
grind. as in skateboarding. something i used to know how to do. I remember when i was younger. I would play skateboarding games, skateboard outside, and slide/sled on the skateboard. It was thrilling.
if you take a dream, and grind it against a fear, what will you get? will you get an arrow, pointing you on a path, or will you get a hole, which may lead to your fate? for the universe is unlimited.
Hello
Mi nombre es Paty
estoy estresada
que viene con esto?
donde están mis muebles?
café y rojo, también verde
que va a pasar?
necesito ayuda
por que solo escribo preguntas, me desestresa
el tiempo se acaba
dime algo
que hago
morir
vivir
existir
subrayar
This morning I listened to my blender grind it’s last grind – sad day it’s dead :-( I’ve used that for every slushie and smoothie for 2 years. Time for a new one. I hate getting used to new things