It was half past four now. Unfortunately I hadn’t gotten anything done today. Nothing, just converting oxygen into whatever it was my body needed. Good god I’m bad at biology. Maybe that’s what I should do today… study.
I am half of you and you are half of me. We are twins. You left, and you took half of me with you. Now here I am, with two halves of two different people.
It was half-past three. The time of freedom, well relative freedom anyway. It was the time the glorious bell rung and I got to run out of class; in about 120 seconds I could find myself either in the park or in the library. Today however I found myself in neither, I had run face first into a sort of wall that definitely wasn’t there before.
Half the time i was lying. it didnt matter. The truth, that is. Their eyes glazed over whenever I spoke. I shake their hands. Small talk proceeds. This is an important meeting. We are very Impressed.
Half of the bread was drenched in maple syrup, while the other half reeked of bad mayonnaise and salt. I held up the limp and soggy piece with tongs, wrinkling my nose at the smell.
“Tell me,” I asked Buddy, “just what exactly is Gerald’s taste in cuisine?”
“Questionable,” he replied.
I tried to aim for the trash can. It was already brimming with forgotten scraps.
Today it seemed I was invisible, for all I saw staring back at me was my own disheveled appearance.The cold cup of coffee was half full in my hand. Its warmth was long gone, having been replaced by a coldness that seemed to seep into my soul. I stared out the large picturesque window before me from my almost comfortable spot on discolored pillows, while the scent of fresh brewing coffee attempt to soothe my broken soul.
When the bell chimed signaling the entrance of someone new into the small coffee shop’s confines, I could almost feel his inhumane glare. My flesh crawled as if thousands of spiders, roaches and ants ran up and down every inch of my skin. It took all of my strength to remain calm, to not look as scared as I felt. I put the paper cup to my lips and drank in the bitter brew.
Half. Whole. Part. Sum. Equal. Not so equal. Shared. Not shared. For all of the things we can say and do, and all of the things we wished we did, we are not whole, we are half, until we complete them.
a glass half full, this is an oxymoron. It reflects positive thinking. Instead of saying that a glass id half empty one should say that it is half full as empty sounds negative while full sounds positive.
I am half. Incomplete, an unfinished project maybe. I thought I saw a half in you and a void in need of filling; I rushed and stumbled to you so as to catch your porcelain soul from shattering upon the pavement because I knew you were the half I wanted to make me whole. There was no act of love that could get me close enough to you, though I tried, tried, tried… Then one day you decided you wanted to be a reluctant half alone again and I let you go, wild thing. But I will have you know, I would stay a half for the rest of my days if it would make you whole.
not completely finished. just halfway done, there’s more left to do. something is missing. you don’t feel like yourself. you’re not completely here you’re somewhere else.
He was only half. Half of what he could have been. What he should have been. And it killed him. Was killing him.
How he wished he could take back that part of himself… but it was too late for that now. That part that his mind and heart both missed in equal parts was gone, forever.
And so he struggled with what little of himself he had left.
Half of her was right, half wrong. Half of her was real, half fantasy. She was a creature of no absolutely no absolutes. Her body was split down the core like a speared apple and she had no way to turn as she tore herself apart between right and wrong. There was no way she could live by fighting herself. One day she hoped to find a grey space, not just black and white, where she could truly exist.
Doing things by half is far easier to be done than said. Imagining the best idea in the world can be killed by sitting down. Just don’t sit down. Just do it.
There was the piece on the floor and there were the people clamoring for more. She couldn’t let it happen without doing anything so she threw herself to the ground and raised her hands up, prepared to save the other half.
yea so i wish i was about half the weight i was now. at least you know? But that coffee that had the half and half in it wasn’t too bad itself, yea! Anyways i find myself doing about half of what im sure i can really be doing now in life. Not sure why that is. If its all for a reason, well I hope its a good one.
The cup was half empty as I stared at it. Or was it half full? I would never know I suppose, but maybe on day I would be able to see it as half full. Maybe when I find Marsha again…
For some reason, Heather wanted one of those angel’s wings tattoos on her back. So over, so unoriginal, I thought. But there was no talking her out of it. In the end, she only had enough cash for one wing. She’s saving to have the art completed. But for now she’s a half-angel. Guess she hasn’t earned her wings yet.
I feel like half a person walking around, stumbling words trying to tell people with half my mouth that I don’t know what quite I’m missing and I don’t know if everyone is this way, is it always like this, is it always half….
Half of a cookie. I’ve always been told that the best people in life would give you the larger half of a cookie. I know that to be true. And I always try to give people the larger half of the cookie. I generally can sense love, but when in doubt, break a cookie in half and see what happens!
half of my body is paralyzed. i was in a car accident that flipped me three times. my car landed in the ditch. i was catapaulted through the winshield, and 30 ft. forward. now i need someone with me constantly to help me with my daily life. none of this would have happened if i hadnt been looking at a text messege.
half mile from here to there. Is it too far? Is it closer than I think? I might keep going just for the sake of it. Never thought it would end up this way. Never.
She is not my better half. She is not my lesser half either. She is simply half of us. I am one and so is she. When we are together we are wonderful as are we when we are appart. I do not need her. I want to be with her. She does not need me. She wants to be at my side. In wanting to be together we are more then those who are solely together because of a necessity. A constant of misery and monotony.
She is not my better half. She is not my lesser half either. She is simply half of us. I am one and so is she. When we are together we are wonderful as are we when we are appart. I do need her. I want to be with her. She does not need me. She wants to be at my side. In wanting to be together we are more then those who are solely together because of a necessity. A constant of misery and monotony.
Half of a whole. That’s what I believe I am. Love is one of the strongest driving forces for human beings, and I know this is true for me. I am looking for the other half of my soul, and one day hope to find him/her. I can never be truly sure I believe, but i can be pretty close.
Half is not the same as whole, yet it is a start, better than nothing. You try out something. You can share. You can wait until tomorrow for the rest. You have more time to enjoy.
A glass half empty or a glass half full? Many people consider this question as the point of view of either an optimist or a pessimist. The way we view things in life greatly determines our attitude and self esteem.
That means being two half of an apple with a person to me. It is a turkish idiom, actually. Büşra, the other half I’ll never ever reach. She is nothing but an old love to me for now, though.
Never enough of something. Sharing what you want to keep. Giving something to someone else who deserves it. Wanting to always make something fair. The ability to know the difference between selfish and the right thing to do. I will always share what I have, when I am able.
I divided the cake in half to promote fairness. It’s not easy being fair, I’ve always wanted more than my share. Other people feel the same way. My fear of upsetting others keeps me honest.
Half: the person next to you when you get married, someone to carry you aroud and share happiness and sadness moments with. Half of something is not full becauswe full is like the whole and complete. Half is just like meet me the half way which is the good thing for a partnership. Half of my heart belongs to the one I love. Half of half is quarter.
It was half past four now. Unfortunately I hadn’t gotten anything done today. Nothing, just converting oxygen into whatever it was my body needed. Good god I’m bad at biology. Maybe that’s what I should do today… study.
I am half of you and you are half of me. We are twins. You left, and you took half of me with you. Now here I am, with two halves of two different people.
It was half-past three. The time of freedom, well relative freedom anyway. It was the time the glorious bell rung and I got to run out of class; in about 120 seconds I could find myself either in the park or in the library. Today however I found myself in neither, I had run face first into a sort of wall that definitely wasn’t there before.
Half the time i was lying. it didnt matter. The truth, that is. Their eyes glazed over whenever I spoke. I shake their hands. Small talk proceeds. This is an important meeting. We are very Impressed.
Half an apple
Half a sandwich
Half of everything
to become half my size
I’m fat and gross
and need to stop
eating more than half
anything
Half of the bread was drenched in maple syrup, while the other half reeked of bad mayonnaise and salt. I held up the limp and soggy piece with tongs, wrinkling my nose at the smell.
“Tell me,” I asked Buddy, “just what exactly is Gerald’s taste in cuisine?”
“Questionable,” he replied.
I tried to aim for the trash can. It was already brimming with forgotten scraps.
Today it seemed I was invisible, for all I saw staring back at me was my own disheveled appearance.The cold cup of coffee was half full in my hand. Its warmth was long gone, having been replaced by a coldness that seemed to seep into my soul. I stared out the large picturesque window before me from my almost comfortable spot on discolored pillows, while the scent of fresh brewing coffee attempt to soothe my broken soul.
When the bell chimed signaling the entrance of someone new into the small coffee shop’s confines, I could almost feel his inhumane glare. My flesh crawled as if thousands of spiders, roaches and ants ran up and down every inch of my skin. It took all of my strength to remain calm, to not look as scared as I felt. I put the paper cup to my lips and drank in the bitter brew.
He’d come to collect his debt.
He’d come to collect me.
Half. Whole. Part. Sum. Equal. Not so equal. Shared. Not shared. For all of the things we can say and do, and all of the things we wished we did, we are not whole, we are half, until we complete them.
a glass half full, this is an oxymoron. It reflects positive thinking. Instead of saying that a glass id half empty one should say that it is half full as empty sounds negative while full sounds positive.
I am half. Incomplete, an unfinished project maybe. I thought I saw a half in you and a void in need of filling; I rushed and stumbled to you so as to catch your porcelain soul from shattering upon the pavement because I knew you were the half I wanted to make me whole. There was no act of love that could get me close enough to you, though I tried, tried, tried… Then one day you decided you wanted to be a reluctant half alone again and I let you go, wild thing. But I will have you know, I would stay a half for the rest of my days if it would make you whole.
not completely finished. just halfway done, there’s more left to do. something is missing. you don’t feel like yourself. you’re not completely here you’re somewhere else.
He was only half. Half of what he could have been. What he should have been. And it killed him. Was killing him.
How he wished he could take back that part of himself… but it was too late for that now. That part that his mind and heart both missed in equal parts was gone, forever.
And so he struggled with what little of himself he had left.
Half is a word that describes a state of things. It can describe the state of a work, a glass, etc.
gfhjj
Half of her was right, half wrong. Half of her was real, half fantasy. She was a creature of no absolutely no absolutes. Her body was split down the core like a speared apple and she had no way to turn as she tore herself apart between right and wrong. There was no way she could live by fighting herself. One day she hoped to find a grey space, not just black and white, where she could truly exist.
Doing things by half is far easier to be done than said. Imagining the best idea in the world can be killed by sitting down. Just don’t sit down. Just do it.
half the time I spent with him was wasted in fights. Half of my life being mad. Why? What for? Half time is a lot of time…
There was the piece on the floor and there were the people clamoring for more. She couldn’t let it happen without doing anything so she threw herself to the ground and raised her hands up, prepared to save the other half.
yea so i wish i was about half the weight i was now. at least you know? But that coffee that had the half and half in it wasn’t too bad itself, yea! Anyways i find myself doing about half of what im sure i can really be doing now in life. Not sure why that is. If its all for a reason, well I hope its a good one.
The cup was half empty as I stared at it. Or was it half full? I would never know I suppose, but maybe on day I would be able to see it as half full. Maybe when I find Marsha again…
For some reason, Heather wanted one of those angel’s wings tattoos on her back. So over, so unoriginal, I thought. But there was no talking her out of it. In the end, she only had enough cash for one wing. She’s saving to have the art completed. But for now she’s a half-angel. Guess she hasn’t earned her wings yet.
Half full a glass is better than half empty attitude.Live your life but not in halves.
I feel like half a person walking around, stumbling words trying to tell people with half my mouth that I don’t know what quite I’m missing and I don’t know if everyone is this way, is it always like this, is it always half….
Half of a cookie. I’ve always been told that the best people in life would give you the larger half of a cookie. I know that to be true. And I always try to give people the larger half of the cookie. I generally can sense love, but when in doubt, break a cookie in half and see what happens!
half of my body is paralyzed. i was in a car accident that flipped me three times. my car landed in the ditch. i was catapaulted through the winshield, and 30 ft. forward. now i need someone with me constantly to help me with my daily life. none of this would have happened if i hadnt been looking at a text messege.
Dont Text And Drive. It Can Wait.
is just about things don’t be everything, just beeing just a little of a full thing
half mile from here to there. Is it too far? Is it closer than I think? I might keep going just for the sake of it. Never thought it would end up this way. Never.
She is not my better half. She is not my lesser half either. She is simply half of us. I am one and so is she. When we are together we are wonderful as are we when we are appart. I do not need her. I want to be with her. She does not need me. She wants to be at my side. In wanting to be together we are more then those who are solely together because of a necessity. A constant of misery and monotony.
I am but half of my whole self. I am still yet to experience life at its fullest. Half alive. Half lived. Half anticipated.
She is not my better half. She is not my lesser half either. She is simply half of us. I am one and so is she. When we are together we are wonderful as are we when we are appart. I do need her. I want to be with her. She does not need me. She wants to be at my side. In wanting to be together we are more then those who are solely together because of a necessity. A constant of misery and monotony.
Half of a whole. That’s what I believe I am. Love is one of the strongest driving forces for human beings, and I know this is true for me. I am looking for the other half of my soul, and one day hope to find him/her. I can never be truly sure I believe, but i can be pretty close.
Half is not the same as whole, yet it is a start, better than nothing. You try out something. You can share. You can wait until tomorrow for the rest. You have more time to enjoy.
It’s only half here in this world. A soul, half here…half wherever it truly belongs. The soul inhabits a body here. It’s half full, I feel half empty.
A glass half empty or a glass half full? Many people consider this question as the point of view of either an optimist or a pessimist. The way we view things in life greatly determines our attitude and self esteem.
That means being two half of an apple with a person to me. It is a turkish idiom, actually. Büşra, the other half I’ll never ever reach. She is nothing but an old love to me for now, though.
Never enough of something. Sharing what you want to keep. Giving something to someone else who deserves it. Wanting to always make something fair. The ability to know the difference between selfish and the right thing to do. I will always share what I have, when I am able.
half man/half amazing
half of me say’s i can’t, half me knows i can
I divided the cake in half to promote fairness. It’s not easy being fair, I’ve always wanted more than my share. Other people feel the same way. My fear of upsetting others keeps me honest.
Half way there. Too cute by half. Half caf, decaf. Half pint.
Half: the person next to you when you get married, someone to carry you aroud and share happiness and sadness moments with. Half of something is not full becauswe full is like the whole and complete. Half is just like meet me the half way which is the good thing for a partnership. Half of my heart belongs to the one I love. Half of half is quarter.