Half of the food was gone.. The fridge door was open when we walked into the house, and only crumbs, tiny crumbs were left. Little footprints leading out the back door…
Weren’t mice supposed to just eat the crumbs? Not our entire dinner! Especially not on Thanksgiving..
Once a day I try to drink half a gallon of milk. My mother says it will make me grow tall and healthy and beautiful. I love half gallons of milk a day.
half a bottle of whiskey later and I still didn’t have an answer. But then I pretty much expected that. There’s only so many answers that can be found at the bottom of a bottle, and I was almost there.
half a piece of muffin- that was all she had for breakfast.
It was a beautiful muffin, one rich and fluffy bought from the local Albertson’s. Except the problem was: it was only food she had for the rest of the week. So what to eat? What to do? She had no money. No friends to mooch off of.
Her life was half-heartily lived. Just passing through the moments and memories, afraid that if she got too attached everything would fall apart. Still, she knew her meaningless existence meant nothing to anyone.
only half the time are we on the same page. only half time do we see eye to eye. half of a moonrise, half of a sunset and half a question. my half and your half, incompatible and drawn forever to the other. whole
Cut in half, left on the floor, does it keep moving? Is it alive? What is the worm doing? we stare down, then at it other. It stops moving after 30 seconds. something oozes out. Not blood, but something else. life, maybe. it was not what we wanted to happen.
half and half is a must for my coffee. I feel good about half the time. The other half is generally stressful. Half of my house is very cluttered. Maybe more than half. I really need to get my shit cleaned up.
half is not one. not even two or three. i should say, obviously not a two or a three. because if you say that half is not a one, then it’s obviously not a two or three, or is it?
She stared hard at the loaf of bread on the table. Hunger rattled her stomach loudly yet she hesitated. Should she give half to the wide eyed child before her?
Half a man, half a soul. Thats how he felt now that she was gone.Never coming back, even if she wanted to.Never coming back to walk with him in snowy silence.
She poured half & half into her coffee and stirred the white cloud into the blackness. Slowly the drink turned into a light, creamy shade of brown. The same brown of his eyes. You know what also has that same brown? Bullshit. That’s the color of his eyes.
half and half milk. that was what spilled on the ground while my parents were fighting. you see, they’re quite animated. and they tend to think that smashing things will relieve their anger. it doesnt. it only makes them angrier. it only makes things worse.
half a glass of milk. is it full or is it empty? i feel like everyone now a days think that it is empty. but why? life is beautiful. nothing is ever that bad that people should be so down on themselves.
half a bottle of milk is a lot cheaper than a full bottle. I usually drink milk on cereal but I also have it in tea or use it to make sauces. Half a pound, or 50 pence is usually enough to buy yourself a chocolate bar or most other small sweets.
a half is part to a whole. my boyfriend is the half to me. twins have halves, and when they are not with the half they are simply not whole. half has a silent “l” and I like it.
I don’t want to live a half-life. I don’t want to look back and say that everything was half of what I expect. I want to lead a full life; a complete life. I want to find my “other half” and I don’t wan to be incomplete. I don’t want to be a fraction. I don’t want to live a half-life, I want to be complete.
It was half past three when I saw the man standing behind the tree. He was wearing trousers that had been halved into two. He walked away with his top hat and left a half written letter lying under the apple tree.
half and half, that was his favorite. Never cream. too thick. i gazed at the glass of coffee in front of me, gazed at his favorite additive…and took milk instead.
There is only a half a soul in half a being sitting here, staring, wondering, cursing the world for giving me half a brain. i can only see out of half an eye. since half is what i’m working with, i suppose half is what i give. i’m in love with you, hardly, maybe, possibly–because half is what you’ve given me. i’ve wanted you for so long, but half past since long ago- -you’re gone.
I see the glass as half empty. Why? Because I firmly believe that if I expect the worse, then whatever happens I will be pleasantly surprised. Better that than to be permanently feeling let down!
i’m half of a human with half of a brain. i have so much i need to see and hear and think about. i don’t know where i am in this moment. i feel lost and out of control. i have no idea who i am or who i want to be. it’s terrifying that i’m alone in this moment and really in life. i have no hope or dream or future. yet i have everything i need to be. i have everything that will place me where i need to be, yet i still hcan’t see. where it i s. where is it hten ? where wil li be? i’m half a human being. i’m half whole. you see?
The issue was surrounded by half truths and uncertainties. Never before had she been so unsure of the next step. She was sure that a crucial piece of evidence was in plain sight and was frustrated at her inability to see it clearly.
Everything I give you shall be a half. Half of my morning breakfast bagel; you being the other half of our conversations. You knowing that half of my constant thoughts are consumed by you. Half of my hands reach out for yours, tightly taking hold. It will always be true that half of my mind, heart, and soul wanders in search for yours.
I love it when little kids say “I want the bigger half!” Isn’t that how we all feel? We don’t mind sharing (most of the time), but in our own heads, we still want the bigger half of whatever it is.
Bram looked down at the sweating, frightened girl staring back at him.
“Your name is Demi?” he asked. She nodded.
“Where’s your other half?” She said nothing as he laughed maliciously.
Half of the food was gone.. The fridge door was open when we walked into the house, and only crumbs, tiny crumbs were left. Little footprints leading out the back door…
Weren’t mice supposed to just eat the crumbs? Not our entire dinner! Especially not on Thanksgiving..
Once a day I try to drink half a gallon of milk. My mother says it will make me grow tall and healthy and beautiful. I love half gallons of milk a day.
half a bottle of whiskey later and I still didn’t have an answer. But then I pretty much expected that. There’s only so many answers that can be found at the bottom of a bottle, and I was almost there.
half a piece of muffin- that was all she had for breakfast.
It was a beautiful muffin, one rich and fluffy bought from the local Albertson’s. Except the problem was: it was only food she had for the rest of the week. So what to eat? What to do? She had no money. No friends to mooch off of.
This sucks.
This is college.
Her life was half-heartily lived. Just passing through the moments and memories, afraid that if she got too attached everything would fall apart. Still, she knew her meaningless existence meant nothing to anyone.
only half the time are we on the same page. only half time do we see eye to eye. half of a moonrise, half of a sunset and half a question. my half and your half, incompatible and drawn forever to the other. whole
Cut in half, left on the floor, does it keep moving? Is it alive? What is the worm doing? we stare down, then at it other. It stops moving after 30 seconds. something oozes out. Not blood, but something else. life, maybe. it was not what we wanted to happen.
half and half is a must for my coffee. I feel good about half the time. The other half is generally stressful. Half of my house is very cluttered. Maybe more than half. I really need to get my shit cleaned up.
half is not one. not even two or three. i should say, obviously not a two or a three. because if you say that half is not a one, then it’s obviously not a two or three, or is it?
She stared hard at the loaf of bread on the table. Hunger rattled her stomach loudly yet she hesitated. Should she give half to the wide eyed child before her?
Half a man, half a soul. Thats how he felt now that she was gone.Never coming back, even if she wanted to.Never coming back to walk with him in snowy silence.
She poured half & half into her coffee and stirred the white cloud into the blackness. Slowly the drink turned into a light, creamy shade of brown. The same brown of his eyes. You know what also has that same brown? Bullshit. That’s the color of his eyes.
just like a telescope is half a binocular, any persons perspective, no matter how balanced, will only show half of the story.
half and half milk. that was what spilled on the ground while my parents were fighting. you see, they’re quite animated. and they tend to think that smashing things will relieve their anger. it doesnt. it only makes them angrier. it only makes things worse.
half a glass of milk. is it full or is it empty? i feel like everyone now a days think that it is empty. but why? life is beautiful. nothing is ever that bad that people should be so down on themselves.
The half of my heart that would always, will always, belong to him crumpled as he walked away.
half a bottle of milk is a lot cheaper than a full bottle. I usually drink milk on cereal but I also have it in tea or use it to make sauces. Half a pound, or 50 pence is usually enough to buy yourself a chocolate bar or most other small sweets.
a half is part to a whole. my boyfriend is the half to me. twins have halves, and when they are not with the half they are simply not whole. half has a silent “l” and I like it.
I don’t want to live a half-life. I don’t want to look back and say that everything was half of what I expect. I want to lead a full life; a complete life. I want to find my “other half” and I don’t wan to be incomplete. I don’t want to be a fraction. I don’t want to live a half-life, I want to be complete.
“Here.” She broke it in two and gave him one of the pieces. Take one.
“I-I really can’t,” he stammered, blushing, but he took it anyway.
You promise me this,
you promise me that.
You don’t understand
that I don’t just want
half.
give me everything you have to give
It was half past three when I saw the man standing behind the tree. He was wearing trousers that had been halved into two. He walked away with his top hat and left a half written letter lying under the apple tree.
Half is exactly 50 percent of anything you can imagine. Being halfhearted does not pay off.
half and half, that was his favorite. Never cream. too thick. i gazed at the glass of coffee in front of me, gazed at his favorite additive…and took milk instead.
Another love unrequited, bitter, over.
Half empty.
A new start, a fresh beginning, believing again that you are beautiful.
Half full.
Half of my life has been spent thinking about the other half. The other half will, no doubt, be looking back on the first.
Half of you
Half of me
Im cut between
The us of we
Not whole
Never full
Just one piece
Of the rest.
i feel like half of my mind is gone. the words are there, but the grammar is long gone. sentences end in mid–
streams of consciousness no longer make up for the lack of substance.
There is only a half a soul in half a being sitting here, staring, wondering, cursing the world for giving me half a brain. i can only see out of half an eye. since half is what i’m working with, i suppose half is what i give. i’m in love with you, hardly, maybe, possibly–because half is what you’ve given me. i’ve wanted you for so long, but half past since long ago- -you’re gone.
I see the glass as half empty. Why? Because I firmly believe that if I expect the worse, then whatever happens I will be pleasantly surprised. Better that than to be permanently feeling let down!
i’m half of a human with half of a brain. i have so much i need to see and hear and think about. i don’t know where i am in this moment. i feel lost and out of control. i have no idea who i am or who i want to be. it’s terrifying that i’m alone in this moment and really in life. i have no hope or dream or future. yet i have everything i need to be. i have everything that will place me where i need to be, yet i still hcan’t see. where it i s. where is it hten ? where wil li be? i’m half a human being. i’m half whole. you see?
Half of me has always been shone to the sunlight. The other half–the one that is hidden in darkness–is the half that only the moon can see.
only half. the rest of his body was 50 feet away. he watched as his lower intestines moved and lurched, eventually falling out.
The issue was surrounded by half truths and uncertainties. Never before had she been so unsure of the next step. She was sure that a crucial piece of evidence was in plain sight and was frustrated at her inability to see it clearly.
Everything I give you shall be a half. Half of my morning breakfast bagel; you being the other half of our conversations. You knowing that half of my constant thoughts are consumed by you. Half of my hands reach out for yours, tightly taking hold. It will always be true that half of my mind, heart, and soul wanders in search for yours.
As awful as i feel for admitting this, i’ll never be more than i am now. In fact, i think i’m shrinking.
Add a pinch of salt, half a teaspoon of sugar, mix in some spices, whatever you please, and mix it all together then sprinkle on me!
wandering, rambling. it is half past the time you left me on the sidewalk, and I am half past anxious, lucid in my own obscure and blurred denial.
I love it when little kids say “I want the bigger half!” Isn’t that how we all feel? We don’t mind sharing (most of the time), but in our own heads, we still want the bigger half of whatever it is.