Hmm I think of the overboard used in Back to the Future movie. Well at least now its proven that movies suck at predicting things. Yes because its a fucking movie for christ sake. Okay so i wish i can hover lol. Well this is good the timer has reset. Is this website being properly maintained? I think its not. What else do I have in mind. I don’t know. Timers 3 2 1
I had never thought of my wedding day before him. But when I picture him, black tuxedo, end of the petal-strewn aisle, I can just as easily place myself in a white fluttery gown, hovering off the church floor in joy. Him, lifting the veil, connecting us with a kiss. Dancing to songs we sent each other late at night on the Internet. Holding each other aloft, floating along smooth wood and an iris breeze. Letting him see me completely, no curtain, no cover up. Me honestly, wholly, purely with just him. Only him.
A craft of yarn
and tongue depressors
and whatever else is
supposed to keep a
young girl tied together,
because it doesn’t matter
how many stitches are sitting
in her mouth – it doesn’t matter
how many letters she’ll puke out:
at the end of the day we’re
all sinews and sawdust to betray
and we’ll open up our throats
to convince you that we’ll stay.
he hovered above her, completely invisible to her but very visible to the grotesque monster he was battling for her sake. Kean fought for His Father’s child holding nothing back, his wings spread wide and his sword gleaming as he spun to block the path of claws and teeth. the air reeked of sulfur and the monster’s yellow eyes flitted from him to the girl. Kean would not give up; he knew this demon was meant to distract and confuse her from his Father’s purpose. it would cloud her mind with distractions and flood her with irrational emotions; anything to keep her from the truth she was about to uncover. a truth that would mean the leaps and bounds for her in her walk to their Father. out of the corner of his eye Kean saw the girl struggling and then he saw his triumph truly begin; the girl folded her hands and bowed her head, praying for God’s presence. he felt the Holy Spirit in the room and his hands grew steadier. the monster quailed, immediately givin up the fight to run from the room. Kean gave chase with a song of praise on his lips.
My mouse hovered over the screen. I couldn’t believe it – I tried absolutely everything, didn’t miss a beat. Still, it wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough. People always think I over react, “they’re just your marks” they say. They don’t understand though. They’re actually all I really have.
That’s what it does, you know? It stays just over your shoulder–never quite touching you–but constantly close by: whispering. It’s the voice that lets you know right from wrong, wise from foolish, and good from bad. It’s the voice that tells you that you really shouldn’t have waited until late in the evening to write. “You’re better than that,” it says, “or at least you should be.”
That fucking asshole. Get away from me. I can’t write this short paragraph about hover, while you hover over my fucking shoulder. It’s the most annoying thing in the world. You’re even whispering this into my ear as I type it, it’s so fucking frustrating.
I think of a helicopter parent when I think of this word, “hover.” We hover over our kids to make sure they don’t get into trouble, we hover over our staff to make sure they are dong their work accurately, we hover over our spouses and significant others to make sure they don’t step out of line. I wish I didn’t feel the need to hover so much in my life.
Is ball life what if ball wasn’t life would life be exsistent or nah I think I should just go ball some more and just say ball is always life because life is ball and balling is life and lifeing is balling!!!!
I saw her standing over me, sunlight behind her, making her face unreadable. “What are you doing,” she asked, her nose scrunched up in curiosity. “I’m dreaming, maybe of you, but more likely about food”. “That’s stupid”. She kicked dirt at me until I sat up. Her freckles were luminous against her skin. “well maybe you shouldn’t hover then”.
She felt as though she could never shake off the hovering shadow that encompassed her mind. Some days it was more noticeable than others, but it was consistently present all the same.
She was standing over me, looking down on me as if I had completely ruined her entire life. I wondered what she was thinking, in that brief moment, and if she knew what she looked like, staring at me just so. I supposed not, but her face was inches from mine and I couldn’t tell the difference between love and hatred.
Can I hover above my body? Leave behind all thoughts, emotions, entanglements. Can I just move around beside and take in everything as a completely third party observer? No, I probably don’t want to make out with that guy at that party while drunk, ope watch out for that pot hole. Don’t walk into the door frame. Hey look to your right there is a cute guy who wants to talk to you but can’t get up the courage. Can’t I just do that?
I hovered over him, running my fingers through the dark blue hair and staring at his peaceful features. The pain he went through was so great, how could he still look beautiful? Phil had been broken long before me, but all I did was add gasoline to the flames and watch him burn.
this is the thing:
i love her, i really do. we tell each other that all the time – voices gasping, desperate, almost greedy as we clutch at each other. i’ve told her that i want her to be near me all the time, and it’s not a lie – it’s not, because i do, i swear it, i do love her and need her and desire her company all the time- but god, i need her to stop hovering like some desperate bug. i don’t want her to go away. i need her.
this is the thing:
i am terrified of my own feelings and i don’t want to hurt her but oh god, she’s going to hurt.
Asterisk looked down at the bewildered young boy, her black, starry eyes simple and inviting. “You don’t need to look so afraid, you know,” she said softly. “You are here to be comforted.”
Hmm I think of the overboard used in Back to the Future movie. Well at least now its proven that movies suck at predicting things. Yes because its a fucking movie for christ sake. Okay so i wish i can hover lol. Well this is good the timer has reset. Is this website being properly maintained? I think its not. What else do I have in mind. I don’t know. Timers 3 2 1
I had never thought of my wedding day before him. But when I picture him, black tuxedo, end of the petal-strewn aisle, I can just as easily place myself in a white fluttery gown, hovering off the church floor in joy. Him, lifting the veil, connecting us with a kiss. Dancing to songs we sent each other late at night on the Internet. Holding each other aloft, floating along smooth wood and an iris breeze. Letting him see me completely, no curtain, no cover up. Me honestly, wholly, purely with just him. Only him.
A craft of yarn
and tongue depressors
and whatever else is
supposed to keep a
young girl tied together,
because it doesn’t matter
how many stitches are sitting
in her mouth – it doesn’t matter
how many letters she’ll puke out:
at the end of the day we’re
all sinews and sawdust to betray
and we’ll open up our throats
to convince you that we’ll stay.
he hovered above her, completely invisible to her but very visible to the grotesque monster he was battling for her sake. Kean fought for His Father’s child holding nothing back, his wings spread wide and his sword gleaming as he spun to block the path of claws and teeth. the air reeked of sulfur and the monster’s yellow eyes flitted from him to the girl. Kean would not give up; he knew this demon was meant to distract and confuse her from his Father’s purpose. it would cloud her mind with distractions and flood her with irrational emotions; anything to keep her from the truth she was about to uncover. a truth that would mean the leaps and bounds for her in her walk to their Father. out of the corner of his eye Kean saw the girl struggling and then he saw his triumph truly begin; the girl folded her hands and bowed her head, praying for God’s presence. he felt the Holy Spirit in the room and his hands grew steadier. the monster quailed, immediately givin up the fight to run from the room. Kean gave chase with a song of praise on his lips.
My mouse hovered over the screen. I couldn’t believe it – I tried absolutely everything, didn’t miss a beat. Still, it wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough. People always think I over react, “they’re just your marks” they say. They don’t understand though. They’re actually all I really have.
That’s what it does, you know? It stays just over your shoulder–never quite touching you–but constantly close by: whispering. It’s the voice that lets you know right from wrong, wise from foolish, and good from bad. It’s the voice that tells you that you really shouldn’t have waited until late in the evening to write. “You’re better than that,” it says, “or at least you should be.”
That fucking asshole. Get away from me. I can’t write this short paragraph about hover, while you hover over my fucking shoulder. It’s the most annoying thing in the world. You’re even whispering this into my ear as I type it, it’s so fucking frustrating.
I think of a helicopter parent when I think of this word, “hover.” We hover over our kids to make sure they don’t get into trouble, we hover over our staff to make sure they are dong their work accurately, we hover over our spouses and significant others to make sure they don’t step out of line. I wish I didn’t feel the need to hover so much in my life.
Is ball life what if ball wasn’t life would life be exsistent or nah I think I should just go ball some more and just say ball is always life because life is ball and balling is life and lifeing is balling!!!!
I saw her standing over me, sunlight behind her, making her face unreadable. “What are you doing,” she asked, her nose scrunched up in curiosity. “I’m dreaming, maybe of you, but more likely about food”. “That’s stupid”. She kicked dirt at me until I sat up. Her freckles were luminous against her skin. “well maybe you shouldn’t hover then”.
She felt as though she could never shake off the hovering shadow that encompassed her mind. Some days it was more noticeable than others, but it was consistently present all the same.
She was standing over me, looking down on me as if I had completely ruined her entire life. I wondered what she was thinking, in that brief moment, and if she knew what she looked like, staring at me just so. I supposed not, but her face was inches from mine and I couldn’t tell the difference between love and hatred.
Can I hover above my body? Leave behind all thoughts, emotions, entanglements. Can I just move around beside and take in everything as a completely third party observer? No, I probably don’t want to make out with that guy at that party while drunk, ope watch out for that pot hole. Don’t walk into the door frame. Hey look to your right there is a cute guy who wants to talk to you but can’t get up the courage. Can’t I just do that?
Hover boards are super cool. I wish that hover boards were real. Chickens wings were from birds who semi hovered but they didn’t fully hover.
I hovered over him, running my fingers through the dark blue hair and staring at his peaceful features. The pain he went through was so great, how could he still look beautiful? Phil had been broken long before me, but all I did was add gasoline to the flames and watch him burn.
bleh no eh jdjsmchd nooo why field
SJDHSJZBUHUCJBUSC
around the world
go around
cirkle
around
going from one place to another
this is the thing:
i love her, i really do. we tell each other that all the time – voices gasping, desperate, almost greedy as we clutch at each other. i’ve told her that i want her to be near me all the time, and it’s not a lie – it’s not, because i do, i swear it, i do love her and need her and desire her company all the time- but god, i need her to stop hovering like some desperate bug. i don’t want her to go away. i need her.
this is the thing:
i am terrified of my own feelings and i don’t want to hurt her but oh god, she’s going to hurt.
your mom hover over the bed. I hover hover china. The cat hover over the couch.
She was hovering.
Asterisk looked down at the bewildered young boy, her black, starry eyes simple and inviting. “You don’t need to look so afraid, you know,” she said softly. “You are here to be comforted.”