In the mist there was a man. A man who was covered, from head to toe, with various forms, colors, shapes, and varieties of seaweed. Dark green, slimy, glistening, crunchy bright green, dark browns and tans and sick oranges.
The mist is very mysterious. It does not know what it is, or whether it even IS. it is stuck between a gas and a liquid, stuck in a decision; like most of us. forever deciding.
There was mist in the Green Belt today as I drove past in the number 38 bus. that means that fall is on its way. Mist is a sign of fall; a sign that the ambient temperature of the air is lower than the temperature of the water in the Ottawa river. The river holds the heat of summer for several weeks after the nights have begun to turn cold and the leaves begin the loose their freshness. The world turns brown; but first of all, in the morning, it turns grey; the grey of the mist.
I love the mist, but it is a sad thing; a creature of loss and the dying of the year. It is mysterious like death itself.And life.
I saw a movie once called the mist…. it sucked. When I see mist I usually see a rainbow. Rainbows are pretty. did you see that double rainbow video?? Hilarious. Dude must have taken SOOOOO much acid. eh, last time I had acid it sucked.
My eyes are burning. i’ve been getting very tired lately, and because it’s summer, i’ve been blaming it on the heat. It’s probably not the sun’s fault that my vision mists over when i hear a well-played guitar and i can’t sleep at night.
Resistance forms in the mist of the mind. Fears, anxiety, worry, all things negative hide in the mist. Let the wind blow the mist out and see your life change.
Through the mist, I saw it. Sudders flew down my spine. What was it, exactly? A boy? A girl? It just looked like an unidentifiable creature. Gray and slimy, with one huge black eye, and one little white eye. Both of which were staring at me with pure, raw evil.
The mist was thick, it swirled around my head as I stepped onto the hard ground. What had just happened? I can’t even begin to imagine how this is going to effect my future, our future. But, I can’t worry about the future right now because I’ve got more important things to worry about. Right now.
I thought of Sierra Mist… Is that bad? I’ve never had Sierra Mist I’ve always assumed it’s just a sprite knockoff. Maybe I should give it a chance, who knows ,maybe I’ll Like it?
the mist was falling fast on our heads, it was ruining my hair. I had just done it thus i was upset. But despite its destructive quality it was beautiful, each individual partical danced down on top of us as if gathering for a ball in our woven hair. We could feel it tickeling our noses and dusting our eyelashes. It almost felt like snow.
i wish i was walking in a cool mist right now. it’s too hot. and mist is so comforting. being in actual fog helps clear up my personal fog in my brain.
it is a cold morning out, I cant take it anymore, life is not worth it and i just want to become mist. it would be beautiful to disappear and never be around again. life is just an illusion, just like the mist. what else is there to say
the mist solidified into ice over the tired and restless adventurer who tried, in vain, to huddle over for warmth. The winter and the mountains were bitter foes, and, unfortunately, they were also the bitter victors. The mist splayed the hillside with gloom, and now, with peril, as well.
Outside my window, the mist rose from the ground. I couldn’t see anything in the yard – not the tree, or the swings, nothing. It felt to eerie to be real.
mist, that reminds me of the movie “the mist” i hated that movie. the aggravating christian extremist character really got to me because there are people like that in this world, and there are people who are dumb enough to follow.
And so the mist clouded my mind
Layering my cerebral cortex with a shroud of dust
and dew.
When things seemed clear, they evaporated into the air
as swiftly as they arrived.
i have never really thought that mist was a big enough word to actually write about, so i guess i don’t really have anything to say about it. i am just typing to fill up the 60 seconds so i can get onto another word that i actually have something to say about.
okay, well bye mist. :)
the forest,the trees. oh, how they cry out to me. telling me of the secrets, the wonder. how she reaches out, among the smokey distance…a cry in the dark, a rip towards hope.
The figure stepped quietly out of the mist. Marie sat still quietly poring over her book. The figure stopped right behind her, but then turned away. This little girl wasn’t worth his time.
the mist slowly fell among the trees it covered the evidence of that devious night. the man hid his shame in the one place he knew best leave it in the mist and let it fad away.
into the mist there were three people, brother, sister, mother. they had lost their father in the woods. they yelled out for him until suddenly a sasquatch cam tried to eat them. they ran but then the sister was like: “Where is Ben?” and the mom was like: “it’s okay, you’re my favorite child anyways.” then they bump into Ben who had been standing there the whole time listening to the whole thing.
The misty tendrils wrapped around my wrists and clung, that’s when I knew he was here. Branath was here and he was using his powers to ensnare me, to taunt me and to pull me deeper into the mist, into him.
is the dreary mist of the forest I walked for days looking towards the skies hoping I’d find her. her to heal everything inside of me. her. nature. pure nature.
the mist is cold with ice in its mind, there are no lies because there is no consciousness. we cannot see and in that we are comfortable, we love it with all our thoughts and lives.
The mist surrounded me, working it’s way up from my feet to my brow. I couldn’t see further than three feet in front of my pale face at this point. A chill went down my spine as my damp hands clenched the blanket. A tear the fell to the dirt that appeared as nothing more than a bottomless pit at this point.
This is misty. It is a horrible thick globby mist. And i can not see. I wonder why it feels like you can.
the mist hung over the corn field early in the morning, barely letting through the dawn sky’s purple and pinks.
In the mist there was a man. A man who was covered, from head to toe, with various forms, colors, shapes, and varieties of seaweed. Dark green, slimy, glistening, crunchy bright green, dark browns and tans and sick oranges.
The mist in Squirrel Island Maine is Magical. It hides our childhood and mildews the wood and keeps summer like heaven in a fog.
The mist is very mysterious. It does not know what it is, or whether it even IS. it is stuck between a gas and a liquid, stuck in a decision; like most of us. forever deciding.
There was mist in the Green Belt today as I drove past in the number 38 bus. that means that fall is on its way. Mist is a sign of fall; a sign that the ambient temperature of the air is lower than the temperature of the water in the Ottawa river. The river holds the heat of summer for several weeks after the nights have begun to turn cold and the leaves begin the loose their freshness. The world turns brown; but first of all, in the morning, it turns grey; the grey of the mist.
I love the mist, but it is a sad thing; a creature of loss and the dying of the year. It is mysterious like death itself.And life.
Its something I can not see but I know its there. The mist covers my eyes and I am in its glare.
I saw a movie once called the mist…. it sucked. When I see mist I usually see a rainbow. Rainbows are pretty. did you see that double rainbow video?? Hilarious. Dude must have taken SOOOOO much acid. eh, last time I had acid it sucked.
Mist is water. Water can be mist. Mist can be a spray. Water. Mist. Spray. Fog. Humidity. Air. Mist!
the mist flowed around her legs. twisting round her ankles and over the ground. the grayness of the morning was her eyes in the night.
My eyes are burning. i’ve been getting very tired lately, and because it’s summer, i’ve been blaming it on the heat. It’s probably not the sun’s fault that my vision mists over when i hear a well-played guitar and i can’t sleep at night.
Resistance forms in the mist of the mind. Fears, anxiety, worry, all things negative hide in the mist. Let the wind blow the mist out and see your life change.
Through the mist, I saw it. Sudders flew down my spine. What was it, exactly? A boy? A girl? It just looked like an unidentifiable creature. Gray and slimy, with one huge black eye, and one little white eye. Both of which were staring at me with pure, raw evil.
The mist was thick, it swirled around my head as I stepped onto the hard ground. What had just happened? I can’t even begin to imagine how this is going to effect my future, our future. But, I can’t worry about the future right now because I’ve got more important things to worry about. Right now.
is beautiful and romantic even on the coldest darkest days…
I thought of Sierra Mist… Is that bad? I’ve never had Sierra Mist I’ve always assumed it’s just a sprite knockoff. Maybe I should give it a chance, who knows ,maybe I’ll Like it?
the mist was falling fast on our heads, it was ruining my hair. I had just done it thus i was upset. But despite its destructive quality it was beautiful, each individual partical danced down on top of us as if gathering for a ball in our woven hair. We could feel it tickeling our noses and dusting our eyelashes. It almost felt like snow.
i wish i was walking in a cool mist right now. it’s too hot. and mist is so comforting. being in actual fog helps clear up my personal fog in my brain.
it is a cold morning out, I cant take it anymore, life is not worth it and i just want to become mist. it would be beautiful to disappear and never be around again. life is just an illusion, just like the mist. what else is there to say
the mist solidified into ice over the tired and restless adventurer who tried, in vain, to huddle over for warmth. The winter and the mountains were bitter foes, and, unfortunately, they were also the bitter victors. The mist splayed the hillside with gloom, and now, with peril, as well.
Outside my window, the mist rose from the ground. I couldn’t see anything in the yard – not the tree, or the swings, nothing. It felt to eerie to be real.
through the chilly mist
i see your silhouette come
into the open
i wish i knew that this ws you/why?/good question/i could never run to you/you would never embrace me with joy/anyway
mist, that reminds me of the movie “the mist” i hated that movie. the aggravating christian extremist character really got to me because there are people like that in this world, and there are people who are dumb enough to follow.
And so the mist clouded my mind
Layering my cerebral cortex with a shroud of dust
and dew.
When things seemed clear, they evaporated into the air
as swiftly as they arrived.
I guess that’s why they call it losing your mind.
leaf rain dance sing laugh live moist water wet swim tap shoes leafy airy musical symphony
rain wet feel dance sing movie old film live laugh spray water swim tap shoes damp squeaky leafy refreshing moist
i have never really thought that mist was a big enough word to actually write about, so i guess i don’t really have anything to say about it. i am just typing to fill up the 60 seconds so i can get onto another word that i actually have something to say about.
okay, well bye mist. :)
the forest,the trees. oh, how they cry out to me. telling me of the secrets, the wonder. how she reaches out, among the smokey distance…a cry in the dark, a rip towards hope.
The figure stepped quietly out of the mist. Marie sat still quietly poring over her book. The figure stopped right behind her, but then turned away. This little girl wasn’t worth his time.
It’s clearing and I can see. This fog is going away and now I feel this mist. It’s renewing. I’m new. I..I can’t explain, but I’m just not the same.
the mist slowly fell among the trees it covered the evidence of that devious night. the man hid his shame in the one place he knew best leave it in the mist and let it fad away.
The mist cleared over the early morning skies of Caladan. It was perfect weather for enjoying a cup of coffee and watching the tides come in.
mist in my eyes as I look at my daddy, 80 years old and weak as a kitten. Is this the man who used to make me fly? I love him
into the mist there were three people, brother, sister, mother. they had lost their father in the woods. they yelled out for him until suddenly a sasquatch cam tried to eat them. they ran but then the sister was like: “Where is Ben?” and the mom was like: “it’s okay, you’re my favorite child anyways.” then they bump into Ben who had been standing there the whole time listening to the whole thing.
rain wet feel dance sing movie old film live laugh spray water swim tap shoes damp squeaky leafy
The misty tendrils wrapped around my wrists and clung, that’s when I knew he was here. Branath was here and he was using his powers to ensnare me, to taunt me and to pull me deeper into the mist, into him.
is the dreary mist of the forest I walked for days looking towards the skies hoping I’d find her. her to heal everything inside of me. her. nature. pure nature.
the mist is cold with ice in its mind, there are no lies because there is no consciousness. we cannot see and in that we are comfortable, we love it with all our thoughts and lives.
The mist surrounded me, working it’s way up from my feet to my brow. I couldn’t see further than three feet in front of my pale face at this point. A chill went down my spine as my damp hands clenched the blanket. A tear the fell to the dirt that appeared as nothing more than a bottomless pit at this point.