I was once split in half. It was very painful, but I healed quite quickly. I hope that one day this does not happen again, though I know that it will. I sigh. This isn’t a situation I’d like to repeat. Please, oh please, Lord, never let this happen again. Being split in half… it hurts.
half and half and my fathers carton of it in the refrigerator. It was the only milk in the house and it was delicious as I tried tea for the first time and we bonded and it’s surprising how fast that bond went away. It is also surprising that this is what comes up randomly. Or maybe it isn’t.
half empty, that is what i am, i find myself feeling like this. my life has been meaningless my mind has began to fade. i am not old but i dont feel young. my life has just been one mistake after another. i dislike what i have become. Please dont think of me as special or out of the loop i am very much in it as a matter of fact. I want to accomplish but that might not happen. what then what will i become who will be there to show me the way if i have no light
She made half a sandwich today. She only eats half of that half. She has OCD. Obssesive. Complusive. Disorder. She cant control it. She wishes the terrors would be over. She wants no more crying, no more obssesion. She wants to be normal. She cant. Can she? She ponders as she eats half of her sandwich. Can I?
the ship sailed into the cove; there was love and a half moon overhead. they splashed through the shallows onto the shore, and they lay in the folds of the land and climbed the mountains to look out on the bay. when they went back they built a village with little blond girls hanging from the trees and little blond boys playing hide and seek in the forests, and they smiled.
The threads that wove
us together; frayed.
Ripped and torn apart.
Leaving me cut open.
From sun up
to sun down.
You hover silently
in my sub-conscience.
No matter what I do
to try and forget,
I feel you missing.
I’m not whole.
Without you
here.
a brain.
a sandwich. Eddie Murphy’s bush woman wife wants HALF!!!! I once knew a man with half a penis and a whole set of vintage tumblers. The word half makes my hunger worse because I want more than half a cookie.
I stared at it uncomprehendingly. This was impossible! I looked at it from every angle, this small metallic THING that I had spent my entire “life” looking for, this was it? Seriously? Lies! Unbelievingly, I picked it up. I removed the metal shield that covered my “heart” and I stared at it. I compared them, mine was greasy, but it still had functioning gearwork, which I doubted this thid, but ther on the edge of my heart, were three small bumps. I placed the piece of metal there gingerly and felt an instant shock. All of a sudden, I could breathe, I could feel, I could see the world in brand new tones and with bright and dark brilliant hues, and the smells were intoxicating, but above all, these was a boy next to me. I blinked in shock as he quickly hugged me and sobbed. I realized I was no longer the creaky old cyborg I used to be, but I was in fact a human girl. And this beautiful boy sobbing on my shoulder was produced by the small metal. This boy was my perfect other half.
im not one of those glass half full or glass half empty kinda guys. i like to think of the glass as always full, even though half of it is just air. i think that everybody has the potential to be that glass; everybody can be totally full if they really put their mind to it and think long and hard about what they are missing.
half of me is gone. you were my other half but you disappeared. Now i’m wondering if i’ll ever find my other half or If I’ll always be alone like this. I guess you should never get your hopes up too high, expect heartbreak.
Half an hour. Half a heart. Half of me. That’s all he’s getting today. I used to be stupid, but not anymore. Yesterday he had it all. Now he just get’s half. Half of what he used to have.
I’m half better. Halfway to feeling normal. There were a few glimpse just a little while ago. I’d like to hold on to them and keep moving in that direction, please. But it’s hard. And I just don’t know if I’m up for it today.
you’re half of me, that’s for sure. Half of my life is consumed by you, you’re always on my mind. Half of my day is spent supporting you and half of my room is filled with your posters. Half of my computer is filled with songs by you and pictures of you :) I love you Justin.
Half an hour. Half of me. It’s all he gets this time. Yesterday I was stupid. And the day before that, and the day before that. He had all of me at one time. But today is not his day anymore. And so I give him half. Half of what he could have had.
That’s my life in a word. The glass sits half-empty, half-cold, half dusty with the silence that clings to the rim like a scandalous lipstick stain. Is it okay for it to be wrong for a few more seconds? Can I flap around (like a dying fish in a puddle) in my misery for just twelve more milliseconds? I’m not holding your hand anymore, but that’s okay. Let the milk go cold in this silent kitchen where dust settles in explosions. We don’t need warm dairy and honey to battle a summer storm.
I won’t go for half of anything I want. I’d rather have all of something else. A whole motorcycle rather than sharing a car or a cheap laptop rather than a shared macbook.
That’s my life in a word. The glass is half-empty, half-cold, half dusty with the silence that clings to the rim like a lipstick stain. And you still can’t tell me what you need to, what I need you to. Does it matter that I’m not holding your hand anymore? Is it okay to let it being wrong for a few more seconds? Let the milk warm in the glass, half-empty in the dim light of this silent kitchen. We don’t need warmth when we’re trying to battle a summer storm.
Not whole. Unfinished. No real purpose. Sad. Anxious. Wanting more. Wanting. Waiting. Finish me. Complete me. Love me. Want me. Keep me. I’ll stay . WHOLE.
If you’re only half insane, they still put you away. it’s not even really me thats the insane one, its the other person in my body that is. really I’m quite normal.
One word, want. I want nothing more. Nothing more to be wanted… other than a new life. a life to live, have no fear and just start over. Statring over from scratch would be so great, it would be wonderful. want.
half of my life are about half i have wasted my life being not happy and insecure but not anymore the next half of my life i will be happy even when things get bad!!
Is the glass half full or half empty? That is a common question many people tend to ask themselves and each other. Technically speaking, those who appear to be more optimistic towards things in life would be expected to say that the glass is half full. On the other hand, more pessimistic people would tend to believe that the glass is half empty.
its a discouraging feeling, being divided into parts. -pulled in different directions and in disharmony with oneself. this is where the balance in middle eastern religions becomes a very seductive concept. where longing is the destruction that feeds our misery. they teach you to rid yourself of that. but some things are simply a part of you and arent meant to be forgotten or supressed. that is why its called harmony. arranging pieces to build a whole. one must be in touch with themselves and embrace what they find. its easy to deny and bury that which brings us pain, but through the struggle is pleasure and only by traveling through the darkness may we find light. that is where the balance is. and the difficulty is in having the courage and strength to learn to find this among all that takes the ground from under your feet, that distracts and blinds you, and that suffocates all your potential in its dizzying grasp. this is the path to dignity and honor and virtue and success. happiness is satisfaction with ones own progress in a high-wire act existence.
half, not 100 percent of something, but only half. Only a part of it. You don’t have the full thing, you only have half. Like eating half of a cookie, part of it is completely gone, the other half is still there, infront of you for you to eat. Half. It’s part of something. It’s not the full part! Like have a glass of milk, the original amount is not fully there. Only half of it. Half of 2 is 1. Because 2 ones make up a 2. and half of 10 is 5 because two 5’s make a 10.
I want it all. I won’t settle for any less. I pour my heart out for you and you say “Yeah, Me too.” I give you the moon and stars and all you do is shrug, I give you everything and you barely give me half of that.
I was seventeen when my father died, and after that moment–that slap of silence that reset the clock– I can’t remember much. There are some things of course, fractals of memories as sharp as broken glass. I close my eyes and sometimes, if I’m lucky, somehow I remember
Half way home, I realized I was half in the bag. My wife met me at the door and she didn’t look half bad. After that we got divorced and I got less than half of everything.
You know, I don’t want to do this, i\I’m actually more than half naked, in bed at the minute and really just want a cigarette. Even though my throat hurts from last night. Lets go change the sheets before Bush Telegraph is on.
I was half once. but then I found my whole. When you are half of anything you can never understand satisfaction. Being half first is better than starting whole though. good luck
Half and half creamer, coffee… My mom always has coffee in the morning with half and half cream and toast with butter. Half of fifty cents is one quarter which i use three times a day when I buy those thirty-five cent chewing gum packs. I always carry a quart and a dime with me.
half a pint is enough to get me tipsy all wobbly legged as if they’re made of water instead of flesh and bone. head spinning stomach churning. laughing giggling. all over the place making a spectacle of myself a pair of glasses beer goggles.
half and half. half of a whole. half of a heart. some people see half as a good thing. they see the glass half full. i dont think thats what i see. i think i see the glass half empty. maybe i should change that. half. its kind of a funny word.
Magic.
Oh how I wish everything was magic. I wish everything was a dream. It never will be. I will always have to face reality. But reality will never be good enough. Reality is suckish as it is. And so is life. But I have to deal with it. Then, maybe some magic will come my way. Maybe. Maybe will drift into my thoughts…
Half is what I got. Half is what I kept.
Now half is gone, half I let go. Now shall I cut everything I have, everything that is now. Shallow cuts or deep one ? How do you get halves of that ?
half a donut sitting there. people watch it. no one picks it up. everyone knows that was old man brady’s half. it was his half donut. forever remaining half eaten.
You’re my other half. You’re the only thing that makes sense. I’ve ran away from it for years and you know what? I don’t want to run anymore. I want to stay right here. With you.
I was once split in half. It was very painful, but I healed quite quickly. I hope that one day this does not happen again, though I know that it will. I sigh. This isn’t a situation I’d like to repeat. Please, oh please, Lord, never let this happen again. Being split in half… it hurts.
half trying.half caring. half afraid. half a cliche. half sick of halves. halfway to an epiphany halfway to heaven
What is NAIT
NA It
not IT N and A It
half and half and my fathers carton of it in the refrigerator. It was the only milk in the house and it was delicious as I tried tea for the first time and we bonded and it’s surprising how fast that bond went away. It is also surprising that this is what comes up randomly. Or maybe it isn’t.
half empty, that is what i am, i find myself feeling like this. my life has been meaningless my mind has began to fade. i am not old but i dont feel young. my life has just been one mistake after another. i dislike what i have become. Please dont think of me as special or out of the loop i am very much in it as a matter of fact. I want to accomplish but that might not happen. what then what will i become who will be there to show me the way if i have no light
She made half a sandwich today. She only eats half of that half. She has OCD. Obssesive. Complusive. Disorder. She cant control it. She wishes the terrors would be over. She wants no more crying, no more obssesion. She wants to be normal. She cant. Can she? She ponders as she eats half of her sandwich. Can I?
the ship sailed into the cove; there was love and a half moon overhead. they splashed through the shallows onto the shore, and they lay in the folds of the land and climbed the mountains to look out on the bay. when they went back they built a village with little blond girls hanging from the trees and little blond boys playing hide and seek in the forests, and they smiled.
Half of me vanished.
The day that you left.
The threads that wove
us together; frayed.
Ripped and torn apart.
Leaving me cut open.
From sun up
to sun down.
You hover silently
in my sub-conscience.
No matter what I do
to try and forget,
I feel you missing.
I’m not whole.
Without you
here.
a brain.
a sandwich. Eddie Murphy’s bush woman wife wants HALF!!!! I once knew a man with half a penis and a whole set of vintage tumblers. The word half makes my hunger worse because I want more than half a cookie.
I stared at it uncomprehendingly. This was impossible! I looked at it from every angle, this small metallic THING that I had spent my entire “life” looking for, this was it? Seriously? Lies! Unbelievingly, I picked it up. I removed the metal shield that covered my “heart” and I stared at it. I compared them, mine was greasy, but it still had functioning gearwork, which I doubted this thid, but ther on the edge of my heart, were three small bumps. I placed the piece of metal there gingerly and felt an instant shock. All of a sudden, I could breathe, I could feel, I could see the world in brand new tones and with bright and dark brilliant hues, and the smells were intoxicating, but above all, these was a boy next to me. I blinked in shock as he quickly hugged me and sobbed. I realized I was no longer the creaky old cyborg I used to be, but I was in fact a human girl. And this beautiful boy sobbing on my shoulder was produced by the small metal. This boy was my perfect other half.
How I limit myself on everything. “Only eat half of that.” I never eat the other half, and it’s starting to show.
im not one of those glass half full or glass half empty kinda guys. i like to think of the glass as always full, even though half of it is just air. i think that everybody has the potential to be that glass; everybody can be totally full if they really put their mind to it and think long and hard about what they are missing.
half of me is gone. you were my other half but you disappeared. Now i’m wondering if i’ll ever find my other half or If I’ll always be alone like this. I guess you should never get your hopes up too high, expect heartbreak.
Half an hour. Half a heart. Half of me. That’s all he’s getting today. I used to be stupid, but not anymore. Yesterday he had it all. Now he just get’s half. Half of what he used to have.
I’m half better. Halfway to feeling normal. There were a few glimpse just a little while ago. I’d like to hold on to them and keep moving in that direction, please. But it’s hard. And I just don’t know if I’m up for it today.
you’re half of me, that’s for sure. Half of my life is consumed by you, you’re always on my mind. Half of my day is spent supporting you and half of my room is filled with your posters. Half of my computer is filled with songs by you and pictures of you :) I love you Justin.
Half an hour. Half of me. It’s all he gets this time. Yesterday I was stupid. And the day before that, and the day before that. He had all of me at one time. But today is not his day anymore. And so I give him half. Half of what he could have had.
That’s my life in a word. The glass sits half-empty, half-cold, half dusty with the silence that clings to the rim like a scandalous lipstick stain. Is it okay for it to be wrong for a few more seconds? Can I flap around (like a dying fish in a puddle) in my misery for just twelve more milliseconds? I’m not holding your hand anymore, but that’s okay. Let the milk go cold in this silent kitchen where dust settles in explosions. We don’t need warm dairy and honey to battle a summer storm.
I won’t go for half of anything I want. I’d rather have all of something else. A whole motorcycle rather than sharing a car or a cheap laptop rather than a shared macbook.
That’s my life in a word. The glass is half-empty, half-cold, half dusty with the silence that clings to the rim like a lipstick stain. And you still can’t tell me what you need to, what I need you to. Does it matter that I’m not holding your hand anymore? Is it okay to let it being wrong for a few more seconds? Let the milk warm in the glass, half-empty in the dim light of this silent kitchen. We don’t need warmth when we’re trying to battle a summer storm.
Not whole. Unfinished. No real purpose. Sad. Anxious. Wanting more. Wanting. Waiting. Finish me. Complete me. Love me. Want me. Keep me. I’ll stay . WHOLE.
If you’re only half insane, they still put you away. it’s not even really me thats the insane one, its the other person in my body that is. really I’m quite normal.
One word, want. I want nothing more. Nothing more to be wanted… other than a new life. a life to live, have no fear and just start over. Statring over from scratch would be so great, it would be wonderful. want.
half of my life are about half i have wasted my life being not happy and insecure but not anymore the next half of my life i will be happy even when things get bad!!
Is the glass half full or half empty? That is a common question many people tend to ask themselves and each other. Technically speaking, those who appear to be more optimistic towards things in life would be expected to say that the glass is half full. On the other hand, more pessimistic people would tend to believe that the glass is half empty.
its a discouraging feeling, being divided into parts. -pulled in different directions and in disharmony with oneself. this is where the balance in middle eastern religions becomes a very seductive concept. where longing is the destruction that feeds our misery. they teach you to rid yourself of that. but some things are simply a part of you and arent meant to be forgotten or supressed. that is why its called harmony. arranging pieces to build a whole. one must be in touch with themselves and embrace what they find. its easy to deny and bury that which brings us pain, but through the struggle is pleasure and only by traveling through the darkness may we find light. that is where the balance is. and the difficulty is in having the courage and strength to learn to find this among all that takes the ground from under your feet, that distracts and blinds you, and that suffocates all your potential in its dizzying grasp. this is the path to dignity and honor and virtue and success. happiness is satisfaction with ones own progress in a high-wire act existence.
half, not 100 percent of something, but only half. Only a part of it. You don’t have the full thing, you only have half. Like eating half of a cookie, part of it is completely gone, the other half is still there, infront of you for you to eat. Half. It’s part of something. It’s not the full part! Like have a glass of milk, the original amount is not fully there. Only half of it. Half of 2 is 1. Because 2 ones make up a 2. and half of 10 is 5 because two 5’s make a 10.
A half of anything is not whole, but it is still special.
I want it all. I won’t settle for any less. I pour my heart out for you and you say “Yeah, Me too.” I give you the moon and stars and all you do is shrug, I give you everything and you barely give me half of that.
I was seventeen when my father died, and after that moment–that slap of silence that reset the clock– I can’t remember much. There are some things of course, fractals of memories as sharp as broken glass. I close my eyes and sometimes, if I’m lucky, somehow I remember
Half way home, I realized I was half in the bag. My wife met me at the door and she didn’t look half bad. After that we got divorced and I got less than half of everything.
You know, I don’t want to do this, i\I’m actually more than half naked, in bed at the minute and really just want a cigarette. Even though my throat hurts from last night. Lets go change the sheets before Bush Telegraph is on.
I was half once. but then I found my whole. When you are half of anything you can never understand satisfaction. Being half first is better than starting whole though. good luck
Half and half creamer, coffee… My mom always has coffee in the morning with half and half cream and toast with butter. Half of fifty cents is one quarter which i use three times a day when I buy those thirty-five cent chewing gum packs. I always carry a quart and a dime with me.
half a pint is enough to get me tipsy all wobbly legged as if they’re made of water instead of flesh and bone. head spinning stomach churning. laughing giggling. all over the place making a spectacle of myself a pair of glasses beer goggles.
half and half. half of a whole. half of a heart. some people see half as a good thing. they see the glass half full. i dont think thats what i see. i think i see the glass half empty. maybe i should change that. half. its kind of a funny word.
Magic.
Oh how I wish everything was magic. I wish everything was a dream. It never will be. I will always have to face reality. But reality will never be good enough. Reality is suckish as it is. And so is life. But I have to deal with it. Then, maybe some magic will come my way. Maybe. Maybe will drift into my thoughts…
Half is what I got. Half is what I kept.
Now half is gone, half I let go. Now shall I cut everything I have, everything that is now. Shallow cuts or deep one ? How do you get halves of that ?
half a donut sitting there. people watch it. no one picks it up. everyone knows that was old man brady’s half. it was his half donut. forever remaining half eaten.
You’re my other half. You’re the only thing that makes sense. I’ve ran away from it for years and you know what? I don’t want to run anymore. I want to stay right here. With you.