I wish I was pulling from the same reservoir as I was when I was a kid. There was so much energy and time to spend back then. Now, everything just seems scarce.
Like the food in my house today.. Like my backside. Like my trig grade. Like the sun in Chicago. Like the amount of time I’ve spent studying for finals. Like the amount of money to my name. Oh wait that’s not scarce. That’s nothing. None. Zero.
The kind of people that will be your friend unconditionally, without asking in anything in return, are very scarce, unfortunately. The nightmares I have about you send me warning signals that someday, you might actually try to hurt me. I sure hope I’m wrong.
Scarce means not a lot. When I think of many of the poor people in the world I think of scarcity. Food, water, clothing and the essentials of life are scarce in many third world countries. We have everything we need in this country.
Kindness, that rarest of spice in the desolate wasteland of their world. Anger and hatred reigned, but heart felt acts of love were rarely seen and usually dismissed as limp wrist-ed and not worth replicating. Tavis was a rarity, always giving himself to others and doing all he could to help.
you can find it everywhere in kitchens in day cares in college in Church in homes and in everyday life. but that kind of love that’s once in a lifetime that love that no one else understands but everyone else envies you for having found that kind of love is scarce it’s not waiting for you around every corner although it is looking for you as well and someday when you least expect it you’ll be introduced to that scarce kind of love and finally understand what all your waiting and anticipation was for and it will all be worth it.
Food was scarce. My sister and I were the first to get whatever food my parents got a hold of, but we had trouble deciding which of us got to eat. “No,” she would insist, “You need to have it.” And I would take it reluctantly, until her composure was too frail to stand anymore.
Wasn’t this yesterday’s word?
That is the question.
Whether it is nobler in the mind to repeat yourself, or to take arms against a sea of repetitions, and by opposing, have no effect.
The rain was scarce around his parts. He stood there, at the edge of his bone dry fields, the yellowing stalks of grain crackling in the dry winds. His arms rested on his hips as he heaved a long sigh, just as he had the day before and the day before that. He could hear his wife in the thin-walled home behind him, chattering away on their still cord-ed phone. Yes, the rain was scarce.
Scarce. What can I say of the word? Hollow, empty, barren, but yet somehow I can still find it in my head to romanticize it. Imagine, one describing something as scarce but in a loving, adoring manner. Ridiculous. I love it.
There’s scarcely a day where the thought of you escapes me. But it gets a little more worn with each sunrise, with each iteration of nostalgia. I read once that the more you repeat a memory, the stronger the path of the neurons, the tighter the knots they tie, the faster the electrons will conjure your face. But I’ve spent too long on one dream, I’m starting to lose you now. Bring me back to that streetlight room, to my heart so full of the newness of you and the fact that you were there, tangible, under my fingertips. Unexpected. Alive. Electric. Mine.
There are so many of them! All beautiful, some fat. No problems! The great thing about love is it’s so indiscriminate.
They all lied to me, last week. They said there were no females… But I had just left a building full of fed up and lonely women. They only wanted a little care and honesty. They told me to be a loving man, so I told my friends: They want you!
In Africa food and water is scarce. Many people are starving. We need to help them. They have a very poor continent. We should donate money to them or adopt a child.
What scares me the most?
Even more than a ghost…
Well, that’s not hard at all
It’s the people, short and tall
They judge me up and down
They’re all around town
They don’t speak my language
Therefore I live in pure anguish
Ok this reminds me of Camp KEEP when I was in 6th grade, because of all the endangered coastal animals we learned about and because of scat. I honestly first thought that said scat, but I was terribly mistaken… haha
The food was scarce. Which sucked. I was hungry and there was nothing left to eat except for oatmeal. And if there is one thing I hated, it was oatmeal.
But when that’s all there is to eat, you eat it.
Or you can have fun and throw it at John, aka the most attractive kid in the village. That works too.
“Make yourself scarce!” Gavvie shouted, grabbing Erika’s wrist and pulling her behind a box.
“What the – Gav!” But then his hand was over her mouth and his eyes were screaming at her to shut up. The door to the compartment slid open and the man with the gun was back, looking more suspicious than ever.
THe day was scarcely over, but it was time to move on. The dark was almost totally set in, and it was time for the fun to begin. Drinks were being poured faster then she could drink them. God, that felt good. The slow burn of liquor as it moved like molten candy through her esophagus.
Scarce means that somethings isn’t available in the quantity it ideally should ? No?
Food is scarce in Africa?
What else do I write about it?
What’s the point of this again?
home. emptiness. newfie words. i want to go home i want to talk like this, i want my accent, i want to feel connected to the ground under my feet and smell the sea in the air.
Sometimes after I stumble back into my room after a hard day at school, I fall on the bed and stare at the back of the pillow. It is cold as my face presses into the stained surface as all strength is scarce, no where to be found.
There’s scarcely anything in there; it’s black and empty. The bubbles have disappeared for the time being, and the mary janes have worn off her feet. Replaced with converse. Or heels. But there’s scarcely anything in that bag. Time to start over again.
my thoughts are scarce today. my thoughts have been scarce lately, for quite sometime actually. i find it now difficult to organize them into words on paper, let alone express them aloud. and now i’m left to wonder what the cause of this scarcity is exactly..
The time to write has been very scare lately. Everyone is pulling on me to and fro. I cannot take a moment of time to sit and think of my plot or character or where she needs to go.
Scarce, as a believer I find myself at times focusing on the lack or the scarcity of something. This year I choose to focus on God’s provision and what is in my life in all areas. To wait on Him and to trust Him to meet all of my needs. My prayer is that those on my circle of influence will be blessed and grow.
I wish I was pulling from the same reservoir as I was when I was a kid. There was so much energy and time to spend back then. Now, everything just seems scarce.
Like the food in my house today.. Like my backside. Like my trig grade. Like the sun in Chicago. Like the amount of time I’ve spent studying for finals. Like the amount of money to my name. Oh wait that’s not scarce. That’s nothing. None. Zero.
The kind of people that will be your friend unconditionally, without asking in anything in return, are very scarce, unfortunately. The nightmares I have about you send me warning signals that someday, you might actually try to hurt me. I sure hope I’m wrong.
Scarce means not a lot. When I think of many of the poor people in the world I think of scarcity. Food, water, clothing and the essentials of life are scarce in many third world countries. We have everything we need in this country.
Kindness, that rarest of spice in the desolate wasteland of their world. Anger and hatred reigned, but heart felt acts of love were rarely seen and usually dismissed as limp wrist-ed and not worth replicating. Tavis was a rarity, always giving himself to others and doing all he could to help.
you can find it everywhere in kitchens in day cares in college in Church in homes and in everyday life. but that kind of love that’s once in a lifetime that love that no one else understands but everyone else envies you for having found that kind of love is scarce it’s not waiting for you around every corner although it is looking for you as well and someday when you least expect it you’ll be introduced to that scarce kind of love and finally understand what all your waiting and anticipation was for and it will all be worth it.
things are very scarce and dependent on other things. I don’t like having too little.
gone, not available. haitus. avoiding others. busy. not seen or heard from.
Food was scarce. My sister and I were the first to get whatever food my parents got a hold of, but we had trouble deciding which of us got to eat. “No,” she would insist, “You need to have it.” And I would take it reluctantly, until her composure was too frail to stand anymore.
Wasn’t this yesterday’s word?
That is the question.
Whether it is nobler in the mind to repeat yourself, or to take arms against a sea of repetitions, and by opposing, have no effect.
The rain was scarce around his parts. He stood there, at the edge of his bone dry fields, the yellowing stalks of grain crackling in the dry winds. His arms rested on his hips as he heaved a long sigh, just as he had the day before and the day before that. He could hear his wife in the thin-walled home behind him, chattering away on their still cord-ed phone. Yes, the rain was scarce.
Scarce. What can I say of the word? Hollow, empty, barren, but yet somehow I can still find it in my head to romanticize it. Imagine, one describing something as scarce but in a loving, adoring manner. Ridiculous. I love it.
There’s scarcely a day where the thought of you escapes me. But it gets a little more worn with each sunrise, with each iteration of nostalgia. I read once that the more you repeat a memory, the stronger the path of the neurons, the tighter the knots they tie, the faster the electrons will conjure your face. But I’ve spent too long on one dream, I’m starting to lose you now. Bring me back to that streetlight room, to my heart so full of the newness of you and the fact that you were there, tangible, under my fingertips. Unexpected. Alive. Electric. Mine.
There are so many of them! All beautiful, some fat. No problems! The great thing about love is it’s so indiscriminate.
They all lied to me, last week. They said there were no females… But I had just left a building full of fed up and lonely women. They only wanted a little care and honesty. They told me to be a loving man, so I told my friends: They want you!
In Africa food and water is scarce. Many people are starving. We need to help them. They have a very poor continent. We should donate money to them or adopt a child.
What scares me the most?
Even more than a ghost…
Well, that’s not hard at all
It’s the people, short and tall
They judge me up and down
They’re all around town
They don’t speak my language
Therefore I live in pure anguish
Maybe if I was scarce from the world for a while, I might get noticed……….Ha! figure that one out..
Ok this reminds me of Camp KEEP when I was in 6th grade, because of all the endangered coastal animals we learned about and because of scat. I honestly first thought that said scat, but I was terribly mistaken… haha
The food was scarce. Which sucked. I was hungry and there was nothing left to eat except for oatmeal. And if there is one thing I hated, it was oatmeal.
But when that’s all there is to eat, you eat it.
Or you can have fun and throw it at John, aka the most attractive kid in the village. That works too.
nothing, gone, unavailable, sounds like scary or a scar, make yourself….
“Make yourself scarce!” Gavvie shouted, grabbing Erika’s wrist and pulling her behind a box.
“What the – Gav!” But then his hand was over her mouth and his eyes were screaming at her to shut up. The door to the compartment slid open and the man with the gun was back, looking more suspicious than ever.
THe day was scarcely over, but it was time to move on. The dark was almost totally set in, and it was time for the fun to begin. Drinks were being poured faster then she could drink them. God, that felt good. The slow burn of liquor as it moved like molten candy through her esophagus.
Scarce means that somethings isn’t available in the quantity it ideally should ? No?
Food is scarce in Africa?
What else do I write about it?
What’s the point of this again?
home. emptiness. newfie words. i want to go home i want to talk like this, i want my accent, i want to feel connected to the ground under my feet and smell the sea in the air.
no one in ontario says ‘scarce’. well, not often.
turn back around,
make yourself
scarce,
invisible
in the soft rays
of the
sun
something
wicked
this
way
comes
Sometimes after I stumble back into my room after a hard day at school, I fall on the bed and stare at the back of the pillow. It is cold as my face presses into the stained surface as all strength is scarce, no where to be found.
scarce were my feelings for him.
There’s scarcely anything in there; it’s black and empty. The bubbles have disappeared for the time being, and the mary janes have worn off her feet. Replaced with converse. Or heels. But there’s scarcely anything in that bag. Time to start over again.
my thoughts are scarce today. my thoughts have been scarce lately, for quite sometime actually. i find it now difficult to organize them into words on paper, let alone express them aloud. and now i’m left to wonder what the cause of this scarcity is exactly..
scarce means that there’s not much of something usually a food supply or water supply. means not enough of something.
Scarce,peace in Africa. The bombs still explode. Why?
Scarce are my thoughts as I write this entry. I think to myself, where have my muses fled to?
Food was scarce and at the moment he was starving. He was so hungry, in fact, that he might eat a horse or two.
But that’s not possible, he thought to himself, horses are extinct.
For now, the humans would have to do.
Pain of scarcity. Empty stomachs. Parched mouths. Hollowed shell. Kill me to save me from my suffering.
The time to write has been very scare lately. Everyone is pulling on me to and fro. I cannot take a moment of time to sit and think of my plot or character or where she needs to go.
Scarce, as a believer I find myself at times focusing on the lack or the scarcity of something. This year I choose to focus on God’s provision and what is in my life in all areas. To wait on Him and to trust Him to meet all of my needs. My prayer is that those on my circle of influence will be blessed and grow.