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it’s the grinding of my hind teeth that keeps me sane, the constant jaw clench that keeps me quiet.
By t URL on 06.08.2012
It’s hard to grind my coffee beans, ever since I lost that little knob that goes on the handle. It says something to my addiction, the spinning, spinning,spinning, digging, digging, digging into my palm for just a taste the sweet sweet nectar inside that little wooden box.
man, I gotta get myself a blender!
By Susannah URL on 06.08.2012
Work hard, never stop, get what you want to achieve, less sleep, more action, making an impact and becoming an influence for those around you to not become lazy, grinding is essential
By Yobel Ande on 06.08.2012
The blacktop felt cool beneath my cheek. I had been beaten to a pulp and ground into the pavement like a bug.
By Gilltyascharged on 06.08.2012
As a child, i would work to grind rocks into dust against the pavement. There was just something about the feeling of it that fascinated me. I would spend hours crushing rocks into dust just to see how much I could make the pile grow.
By Kasey Nicole URL on 06.08.2012
And the gears came grinding to a sickening halt. The woman and her friends gazed about, wondering what they had just done. The pipe they pierced into the behemoth machine’s guts groaned and croaked, threatening to break. They had to move fast, faster than ever before.
By Kort on 06.08.2012
The movement so many claim to love on the dance floor, bodies moving, sex. Tension sweat bodies touching skin pressing mouths opening tongues intertwining feelings lost people met drunken teenagers wanting nothing more than to enjoy the time given.
By Crystal Summers on 06.08.2012
It is interesting to think about dance and music and how much they contribute to defining a generation and what it says about the evolution of culture. Grinding has clearly become popular through the massive amounts of sexual energy involved in doing so. What does this mean? Perhaps a more intriguing question to ask is what dancing and music is going to be like when WE are all 50.
By Brandon on 06.08.2012
the most disgusting habit of the intricate underground hip hop society which has ingrained itself into the every night fabric of our society. 90 million babies have been produced as a result of this dance technique and the numbers continue to rise.
By A.C. on 06.08.2012
Grinding up and down, she slowly turned around to face him. Was she mad? Maybe she was, who would actually do this for a living? A stupid girl that’s for sure, or maybe a smart one. Whoever, she wasn’t really sure how a law graduate had become a stripper. A good stripper mind you, but a stripper none the less.
By Dani Coco on 06.08.2012
Food Processor, salsa. Yummy. My ass against you as we move– motioning together our true feelings. Sex. Pepper and sea salt. My heart in the 9th grade. Poetry. Love, luck and broken pieces
By Julia on 06.08.2012
I was up in the morning. I couldn’t sleep any longer. The thought of coffee was enough to wake me, and up I was. Up I was ready to take on my morning shift. This will be fun.
By Luna on 06.08.2012
He was purposely making her mad. She grinds her teeth, not wanting to retort thus proving that he had won the argument. He was leaning back, smiling smugly. “Cat caught your tongue, love?”
By Syakira on 06.08.2012
There is no right to happiness. If you feel happy it just makes you dissatisfied with the usual daily grind. Approaching happiness is probably the best you could wish for, to reach that point where everything gradually slows down as you advance towards it, until you realise you have passed it and the music has started up again.
By Meredyth URL on 06.08.2012
everything in the soup made me feel sick when i imagined the abatoir the bones had come from, the freezing rooms where carcasses were kept rolling across an expanse of desolate land where nothing grew because it was too frightened. i imagined the drilling sound of grinding to powder using an electric whisk and my mother thinking nothing of it.
By sophie on 06.08.2012
I have had enough of this new fad that people go on about called grinding. You write three people’s names and put them together and then spray paint the combo on a wall. Its immature and I don’t see the point. I hope the next person who grinds gets their hands superglued together.
By Jon on 06.08.2012
I can’t stop my jaw,
I never have been able to.
The wait is long
and my patience short.
By Raeyo on 06.08.2012
The daily grind kept him tied to the office chair. He dreamt about the day he would be free, no longer bound by the j o b. All he eve wanted to do was dance and sing. Would this dream come true? Could he walk away from the safe to fly like the rest? Steve, Mike, Marcy, they all chose to follow their hearts and happy is what they all became.
By Crisnole URL on 06.08.2012
I grind my teeth as the dentist lowerd his drill, it screamed with the pain as I was feeling but I refused to show it, I simply allowed my teeth to grind silenty will I suffered
By Kirsty on 06.08.2012
I grind the cheese on the grater,
Feeling it fall to the plate,
Its softness, of a gracefill landing,
By Shyana on 06.08.2012
Grandmama used to grind all the spices up in her little stone bowl.
I used to hate the smell of onion and chili, but I got used to it soon.
I got too used to it, and I couldn’t forget the smell of spicy, thick, musty air around Grandmama.
Now I miss that smell.
By ollie on 06.08.2012
The daily grind. Sitting at work with not a lot to do. I wish there was more to do. Sitting, typing, filing, entering data, filing, entering data, filing…. There has to be more to life at work than this. Don’t you think?
By Lindsey on 06.08.2012
I grind slowly with you. Feeling our bodies writhe in the ecstasy of the moment. We touch, we kiss. Who knew such happiness could come from such a simple touch. A moment. I thank you for your caress, it feels like heaven on my skin. You are my heaven.
By Brian Harden URL on 06.08.2012
women grind against men in clubs.i find that practise quite disgusting though we need to grind spics in order for them to be suitable for use in indian curries . MTV grind was quite popular show , also a crazy one
By kanika URL on 06.08.2012
Skateboarding on a hot, sticky summer day in Iowa. The breeze hits my face and I know I’m ready. I’ve prepared for this. Here we go. Fuck. My arm’s broken.
By Tyler on 06.08.2012
when sex occurs grinding is normally nessacery. Grind can refer to many metals and materials as well as powering these materials. Grind reminds me of the wheel and grain when making flour. Grind and bump!
By kt on 06.08.2012
They call it the daily grind for a reason. Especially in this city. That’s exactly what it does to you…grinds you to a pulp. Your body, mind and soul. I need to get away. Maybe enjoy sipping wine in some outdoor cafe in Paris. Perhaps with a plate of cheese. Save myself before I’m nothing but a worn down, broken and bloody pulp of what I was before.
By Elise URL on 06.08.2012
The worker looked up. The saw blade was falling down fast, grinding its way through the framework as it fell. “Look out!!” The worker cried, dragging his counterpart out of the way. It was almost like a scene from a horror movie. The spinning saw blade fell from the sky, but instead of crashing, it sparked across the rocks, then ricocheted into the grass.
By Laura Riddle on 06.08.2012
WAs im Leben ist einfach
ist einfach nur eine pure Schinderei
du musst kämpfen,
du darfst nicht ruhen
du musst aufstehen,
du darfst nicht sitzen bleiben
By anuri URL on 06.08.2012
I hear the coffee grinder every morning, and that how I know life still goes on. That’s how I know I’m still a child. As I lie in bed, looking up at the ceiling, I hope that there will never be a day where I that simple sound must cease to exist.
By Cerulean on 06.08.2012
“I don’t even know your name. Who are you?”
“I’m your favourite song. That’s all you need to know.”
By M. Darkweaver URL on 06.08.2012
Teeth grind against teeth as Amanda grasps at the phone. Maybe if she just called him, he would forgive her. This one last time she could dial his number and hear his voice before she left. California was so far away, and hearing his voice out there would make her want to explode. She already missed him, so much.
By sarah campisi on 06.08.2012
Don’t grind your teeth it will make them bleed more then u believe keep your teeth apart make sure they don’t grind be careful its gunnna bleed again over and over then say stop grinding but honestly i cant help it my mouth hurts to much to even care
By Catrina on 06.08.2012
The daily grind. Three more full days of school, then summer, then surgery. That will be a new grind, but hopefully a shorter one. I better have so much fun in my eight days prior to the operation.
By April on 06.08.2012
People say they are on their “grind” all the time. What does that even mean? How do you be on your “grind”? Is it a thing? A way of life? Is it some word that explains how someone feels when they feel amazing? Being on your “grind” could mean anything. It could be simple or intense, but no one really knows. I guess being on your “grind” is a good thing. I suppose I could be on my “grind” right now because I do, in fact, feel pretty content right now. Hey everyone, I’m on my grind.
By Harly on 06.08.2012
The daily one. Work. The stress, the cleaning, the orgainisation, the backaches, the burns, the sweeping. Scaping my forehead with a cheesegrater because I hate it.
By Lily P on 06.08.2012
Day after day, year after year, the mechanisms ground on; untiring and unstoppable.
The noise of the gears as they slowed was almost more than one could bear. The screeching, raucous cacophony as they screeched their way to a halt was so loud that it deafened the ears.
Slowly, the entire operation started up again, only this time backwards.
By terradi on 06.08.2012
i love to grind on the pole. When I am on my skaterbaord. I love to grind on a woman. When I have a boner, chubby, erection, hard on. I like the sound of hard on. It has a nice ring to it. when i was on ectasy I would love to grind my teeth. and when i cook steaks i love to grind the salt into the meat im fixin to cook up!
By ajloopy URL on 06.08.2012
My head jerked around as I heard the grinding, shrieking sound of stone against stone. Slowly, shudderingly, the great stone gate lifted up, the metal supports creaking under its weight as though they might break any moment. Why is this happening? I wondered desperately. It’s not supposed to open, not yet. Not until…
By LILYhibiku on 06.08.2012
It took me a while to find the perfect place, but when I did, I sat down and began to prepare for the night. Hunger ebbs and flows in these woods and right now I’m at the pinnacle of famished. I gather some roots and berries and grind them together in a bowl creating a purplish mash. Juice drips from the edges of the bowl and stains my scarred fingers. Just another reminder that I am no longer in control.
By Nikki on 06.08.2012
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.