The seeds were scattered across the by the wind like my thoughts. Never to be agatthered again into a tight group. They’ve lots their power and at the smae tiem, added something small to the world. What will sprout? What will die? What will be seen again in a other form? Each grain full of the possibility of a new life. My wish is for my thoughts to take root and live again in another form. If I’m lucky, i’ll recognize them and rejoice in their new power.
a scattering of toys litter my house. when will they ever be picked up? you can tell who’s been in the room by the toys that have been scattered about. baby dolls from the baby girl, books and light toys from the boy and video game cases from the older boy.
She watched them scatter and grinned for a moment. Until one of them took aim. “Crap.” Kay ducked behind a pillar just as a bullet nicked the stone. Just because she would be born again didn’t mean she wanted to turn to ash. She’d be in a cage for sure when she woke again.
life is a mess, everything is scattered. we all need to think and re arrange the frames that we carry.
scattering is beautiful also.
we live the dream everyday
Back in the day we used to call loose thinkers scatter brains. Either they couldn’t think straight or they spoke random things at random times. I don’t think I’ve ever been a scatter brain because that a quality that was always unattractive to me.
Scatter makes me think of a song on the Whip IT! soundtrack. One of my favourite movies. It does a great job of reminding girls to follow their dreams, not let them be diminished. Scatter also makes me think of roaches when you turn the light on. Fear can be like roaches. Switch on the light of hope in your life and watch the fear run for the corners out of your life.
Possessions, friends, thoughts. Everything can scatter. Everything must. We can’t hold onto everything forever. Memories dance away, flimsy and immaterial. All is scattered away, and separated. But, new groups form. New things join together, and create beautiful, new concepts. Only to begin to scatter again.
“Scatter, buster, before mom sees you on the tile.” The dog sulked backwards to his usual spot in the corner of the TV room. He was safe for not, but unhappy and wanted to play.
Im sitting alone in my apartment with the 2 thumb rings that I bought today. I wonder why? I have shifted to a new city. i dont stay with my parents. My siblings are at their college. My friends in different cities and towns. The friends in this city,I dunno where they are. So…. everything seems scattered. But this made more space free for myself. I discovered myself. It gets lonely sometimes,but Im a much stronger person now. I know when to run out of a relation no matter how great it is if the person is not treating me well, I know that I can stay alone with myself, I have learned how to express myself better and more importantly I have become humbler in ways I cant explain…
Scattered thoughts.
beth is a scatter brain. She has so many things (items) and things going on she doesnt know what to do with herself. She has so many things that she has to scatter them about so it doesnt look like she has brought much! She scatters brought clothes and hides them behind doors so her boyfriend cant find them!
It look like a scene out a movie. Someone scatter all of our belonging into the road after breaking into our home while we away on vacation. On our return home we were confronted with the ugly sight of our belongs exposed for everyone to see.
chaos. i hate it. it’s actually the fucking worst. chaos outside is chaos inside. far away. scattered far away from each other. I miss you. chaos. I miss you. thousands of miles from anywhere.
leaves rustle quietly
there is an escape if you think there’s one
she smiled gently
reminded me of crisp autumn freeze
a smile that illuminated the trees
and when that wind came
the leaves ceased to be
winter’s coming
and she scatters into the breeze
and i scattered like hell
when i heard you say
that you loved like you’d never loved anybody before
because it rang a bell
and though i wanted to stay
i suppose that i like freedom more
A messy table had many things on it as the man walked outside the door. He soon realized that he had forgotten his keys as he scattered inside knowing that he might be late for work if he didn’t go back to his apartment. Inside his apartment he looked at the table.
We’re scattered. In the beginning of December, it was 70 degrees and I thought of you. Dear, I hurt, I hurt. I hurt so much for you. Dear, you say, you tell me, you hurt you hurt. You hurt so much for her. You can’t have her, oh, you hurt. I can’t have you, oh, I hurt. We’re scattered on this earth, pieces disheveled, sharpened and broken and scattered on this earth. I tried to pick up the pieces dear, she did and I did. She tried, I tried. We both gave up, but you stuck with her.
We’re scattered babe, piece by piece on this earth, she can’t fix me, what makes you think she would be able to fix you?
Scatter. It’s what Kuchiki Byakuya , a character from the anime Bleach says to release his weapon, Senbonzakura. It’s his power. It’s his soul. What’s yours?
all my things were strung about the floor, what a messy apartment i thought to myself, why do I never have the time to clean.. oh that’s right, I work and barely get here to sleep. What a sad experience, renting an apartment just to have it wasting away.
The pen is my knife; I bleed onto paper.
Carving my thoughts before they vanish like vapor.
I scatter my words like they’re seeds in the street
Birds come to feed on the blood at my feet.
when you just run around and leave things in a place where you know youll forget them. scattering is when things are all over the floor and int just complete chaos. its when things are sprinkled all about
They scattered the seeds all over the courtyard. Two handfuls there and three sprinkles here….
It was definitely enough to attract the crows. It was more than enough for the season.
Jessica twinkled the remaining seeds between here fingers, she knew that they were there to scatter, but somehow she wanted to hold onto the last fragment of humanity a minute longer.
all the cars going by. i hate the way i hate people. my words scatter across their heads as i give them all a fake smile. i will not let them get the best of me. stop using me, splitting me into a million places.
scatter brained scattered thoughts scattered follies about the floor with the rest of the trash that was thrown out as you decided to move on with your life and give your follies away i scattered those pieces too as i left and ran from room to scattered room leaving pieces of my scattered brain
scars. everywhere. scatterbrained. sick in the mind. no one sees how messed up you are. the pattern of how you break when you are alone seems to quicken. all the pieces of you bounce on the floor. you try to conjure up pictures in your head. they whisper sweet feelings to you.
Like any other typical college student, my brain is scattered.
Scattered from the pressure, pain and anxiety that society and work handed to me. Perhaps it was my fault for letting it all affect me so much because I have so much to pick up;
my brain is scattered. i left a lot of things behind from it. it’s time to heal and find something new.
The crowed scattered away from the fiery red demon lurking behind them. The taste for blood and revenge just at his reach. They ran as fast as they could away from this blood thirsty monster, but in the end, their scattering did nothing for them. The demon won. He got his taste for human blood.
Her belongings were scattered across the floor; she rushed to his arms, desperate for comfort. She cried like she had not cried in years, over affairs beyond her maturity level, over her chronic dissatisfaction with life, over her constant loneliness… but also cried for finally having someone to share her pain with.
“I’ve become a cliché” – she thought disgusted – “I’m finally one of those lucky people who need people” – she thought as she grasped him tightly.
His pain is scattered throughout his life if you look close enough. The tattoo on his back, the drugs he does, the people he loves, the things he steals, are all tells of something deeper. He lost his dad, and who was there for him? No one. We failed you David, I’m sorry.
Her belongings are scattered across the floor; she rushed to his arms, desperate for comfort. She cried like she had not cried in years, over affairs beyond her maturity level, over her chronic dissatisfaction with life, over her constant loneliness… but also cried for finally having someone to share her pain with.
“I’ve become a cliché” – she thought disgusted – “I’m finally one of those lucky people who need people” – she thought as she grasped him tightly.
his feelings for him is scattered. very, very scattered. let’s say his heart is a room.
in the far left corner are his feelings of doubt. how maybe, he’s still not /the one/. how maybe, he’ll get tired of him and one day he’ll just want out and all of the times spent emotionally invested in him would’ve been for naught.
in the right side of the room along with the unruly bed are the feelings of passion and lust and heatheatheat and more fucking more. the all-consuming want to touch and feel and taste and be impossibly close. it’s a side that gets visited more often than what is supposed to, but it’s a side he wants just the same.
across it is the side of happiness and simplicity and contentment. all those times spent lying in each other’s arms and humming and watching the clouds roll by.
the last side is the anger and the annoyance. how they are so alike that they have nothing to fight for, and how they are so /different/ that they have everything to fight over. words are thrown and names are called but in the end, they throw each other on the bed and everything is right once more.
but the middle. smack in the middle is probably what makes the most sense. love. the undying, ardent love for him and him only. how nothing can ever make him stop loving him because it’s somehow already ingrained in his mind, altered into his own body and soul that he ///lives/// for him.
his room of emotions may be scattered, but he loves him all the same.
“Shoo!” He shouted at the mice. As they scattered towards the little hole below the cupboard, he continued sweeping, thinking about Diane. “Oh, how I wish she would fling her golden locks in my direction, ” he thought to himself. If only. Sam had dreamed and daydreamed about Diane since he was 15 years old. But still, he figured he was doomed to only get to look at her from a distance. How could he be in love with a girl he had never met? It was practically impossible. Yet he was. Every day, he would sweep the shop at exactly 3:45 to get a glance of her as she rushed to her job at Sally’s sweets. He would chuckle every time he saw her put her glasses on, tuck her hair into a ponytail, and fuss to fix her apron before she walked in. Sometimes, Diane would even see him and smile or wave. Then, at exactly 3:50 every day, he sighed as she disappeared in through those pink Sally’s Sweets doors and he went back to sweeping, still thinking about Diane, still waiting for the day that she would come in and talk to him. Sam had seriously considered going over and making the first move. But then he realized he didn’t want to get shot down. His fantasy could be over, and that would be the worst thing in the world, he thought. “There will always be another day. If I can’t talk to her now, I can talk to her later. I’ll work up the nerve someday.” Today was the day, Same said to himself. Today is the day I go over to Sally’s Sweet’s and I ask that magnificent girl out. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock ticked away. 3:43. 3:44. 3:45. He looked out the window waiting for her arrival. 3:46. 3:47. 3:48. This was strange. Diane was never late. 3:49. 3:50. 3:51. There has to be something wrong. She could just be held up somewhere. I’m sure this isn’t that unusual. 3:52. 3:53. 3:54. It finally dawned on him to go check at Sally’s Sweets.
The seeds were scattered across the by the wind like my thoughts. Never to be agatthered again into a tight group. They’ve lots their power and at the smae tiem, added something small to the world. What will sprout? What will die? What will be seen again in a other form? Each grain full of the possibility of a new life. My wish is for my thoughts to take root and live again in another form. If I’m lucky, i’ll recognize them and rejoice in their new power.
a scattering of toys litter my house. when will they ever be picked up? you can tell who’s been in the room by the toys that have been scattered about. baby dolls from the baby girl, books and light toys from the boy and video game cases from the older boy.
She watched them scatter and grinned for a moment. Until one of them took aim. “Crap.” Kay ducked behind a pillar just as a bullet nicked the stone. Just because she would be born again didn’t mean she wanted to turn to ash. She’d be in a cage for sure when she woke again.
life is a mess, everything is scattered. we all need to think and re arrange the frames that we carry.
scattering is beautiful also.
we live the dream everyday
Back in the day we used to call loose thinkers scatter brains. Either they couldn’t think straight or they spoke random things at random times. I don’t think I’ve ever been a scatter brain because that a quality that was always unattractive to me.
Scatter makes me think of a song on the Whip IT! soundtrack. One of my favourite movies. It does a great job of reminding girls to follow their dreams, not let them be diminished. Scatter also makes me think of roaches when you turn the light on. Fear can be like roaches. Switch on the light of hope in your life and watch the fear run for the corners out of your life.
Possessions, friends, thoughts. Everything can scatter. Everything must. We can’t hold onto everything forever. Memories dance away, flimsy and immaterial. All is scattered away, and separated. But, new groups form. New things join together, and create beautiful, new concepts. Only to begin to scatter again.
The ashes of the fallout scatterered across the earth and killed almost every living thing
“Scatter, buster, before mom sees you on the tile.” The dog sulked backwards to his usual spot in the corner of the TV room. He was safe for not, but unhappy and wanted to play.
ben baver evin 4 b sınıfına gidiyorum sizi çok sevmiyorum
Im sitting alone in my apartment with the 2 thumb rings that I bought today. I wonder why? I have shifted to a new city. i dont stay with my parents. My siblings are at their college. My friends in different cities and towns. The friends in this city,I dunno where they are. So…. everything seems scattered. But this made more space free for myself. I discovered myself. It gets lonely sometimes,but Im a much stronger person now. I know when to run out of a relation no matter how great it is if the person is not treating me well, I know that I can stay alone with myself, I have learned how to express myself better and more importantly I have become humbler in ways I cant explain…
Scattered thoughts.
beth is a scatter brain. She has so many things (items) and things going on she doesnt know what to do with herself. She has so many things that she has to scatter them about so it doesnt look like she has brought much! She scatters brought clothes and hides them behind doors so her boyfriend cant find them!
It look like a scene out a movie. Someone scatter all of our belonging into the road after breaking into our home while we away on vacation. On our return home we were confronted with the ugly sight of our belongs exposed for everyone to see.
She scatterd the stones accross the grave a set a single flower on top. She said nothing, not even a whisper. Then she turned and didn’t look back
Snow globes scatter, christmas wrappers., greasy gravy meaty splatter.
chaos. i hate it. it’s actually the fucking worst. chaos outside is chaos inside. far away. scattered far away from each other. I miss you. chaos. I miss you. thousands of miles from anywhere.
leaves rustle quietly
there is an escape if you think there’s one
she smiled gently
reminded me of crisp autumn freeze
a smile that illuminated the trees
and when that wind came
the leaves ceased to be
winter’s coming
and she scatters into the breeze
and i scattered like hell
when i heard you say
that you loved like you’d never loved anybody before
because it rang a bell
and though i wanted to stay
i suppose that i like freedom more
scattered brained people play on stumble upon to waist their waisted time and do things that dont matter like i am doing at this very moment
A messy table had many things on it as the man walked outside the door. He soon realized that he had forgotten his keys as he scattered inside knowing that he might be late for work if he didn’t go back to his apartment. Inside his apartment he looked at the table.
We’re scattered. In the beginning of December, it was 70 degrees and I thought of you. Dear, I hurt, I hurt. I hurt so much for you. Dear, you say, you tell me, you hurt you hurt. You hurt so much for her. You can’t have her, oh, you hurt. I can’t have you, oh, I hurt. We’re scattered on this earth, pieces disheveled, sharpened and broken and scattered on this earth. I tried to pick up the pieces dear, she did and I did. She tried, I tried. We both gave up, but you stuck with her.
We’re scattered babe, piece by piece on this earth, she can’t fix me, what makes you think she would be able to fix you?
Scatter. It’s what Kuchiki Byakuya , a character from the anime Bleach says to release his weapon, Senbonzakura. It’s his power. It’s his soul. What’s yours?
all my things were strung about the floor, what a messy apartment i thought to myself, why do I never have the time to clean.. oh that’s right, I work and barely get here to sleep. What a sad experience, renting an apartment just to have it wasting away.
The pen is my knife; I bleed onto paper.
Carving my thoughts before they vanish like vapor.
I scatter my words like they’re seeds in the street
Birds come to feed on the blood at my feet.
when you just run around and leave things in a place where you know youll forget them. scattering is when things are all over the floor and int just complete chaos. its when things are sprinkled all about
They scattered the seeds all over the courtyard. Two handfuls there and three sprinkles here….
It was definitely enough to attract the crows. It was more than enough for the season.
Jessica twinkled the remaining seeds between here fingers, she knew that they were there to scatter, but somehow she wanted to hold onto the last fragment of humanity a minute longer.
all the cars going by. i hate the way i hate people. my words scatter across their heads as i give them all a fake smile. i will not let them get the best of me. stop using me, splitting me into a million places.
The scattered mind. Where it goes. It goes here, there and everywhere.
My scattered future. Where am I going?
My scattered ambitions. What do I want?
My scattered family. Who is my family? Do I have one?
Why can’t I sit still in one place?
scatter brained scattered thoughts scattered follies about the floor with the rest of the trash that was thrown out as you decided to move on with your life and give your follies away i scattered those pieces too as i left and ran from room to scattered room leaving pieces of my scattered brain
scars. everywhere. scatterbrained. sick in the mind. no one sees how messed up you are. the pattern of how you break when you are alone seems to quicken. all the pieces of you bounce on the floor. you try to conjure up pictures in your head. they whisper sweet feelings to you.
Cold air and snow scatter wafted in through the unhinged door, settling on the hearth, the table, and Mother’s frozen eyelashes.
Like any other typical college student, my brain is scattered.
Scattered from the pressure, pain and anxiety that society and work handed to me. Perhaps it was my fault for letting it all affect me so much because I have so much to pick up;
my brain is scattered. i left a lot of things behind from it. it’s time to heal and find something new.
scattered leaves skitter down
sidewalks like marching
soldiers invading enemy yards
their toes scratching the
cement are reminiscent of
claws
The crowed scattered away from the fiery red demon lurking behind them. The taste for blood and revenge just at his reach. They ran as fast as they could away from this blood thirsty monster, but in the end, their scattering did nothing for them. The demon won. He got his taste for human blood.
Her belongings were scattered across the floor; she rushed to his arms, desperate for comfort. She cried like she had not cried in years, over affairs beyond her maturity level, over her chronic dissatisfaction with life, over her constant loneliness… but also cried for finally having someone to share her pain with.
“I’ve become a cliché” – she thought disgusted – “I’m finally one of those lucky people who need people” – she thought as she grasped him tightly.
His pain is scattered throughout his life if you look close enough. The tattoo on his back, the drugs he does, the people he loves, the things he steals, are all tells of something deeper. He lost his dad, and who was there for him? No one. We failed you David, I’m sorry.
Scatter brain, scatter dead
full of holes inside my head
eat of things both live and dead
tastes like things all rust and red
Her belongings are scattered across the floor; she rushed to his arms, desperate for comfort. She cried like she had not cried in years, over affairs beyond her maturity level, over her chronic dissatisfaction with life, over her constant loneliness… but also cried for finally having someone to share her pain with.
“I’ve become a cliché” – she thought disgusted – “I’m finally one of those lucky people who need people” – she thought as she grasped him tightly.
his feelings for him is scattered. very, very scattered. let’s say his heart is a room.
in the far left corner are his feelings of doubt. how maybe, he’s still not /the one/. how maybe, he’ll get tired of him and one day he’ll just want out and all of the times spent emotionally invested in him would’ve been for naught.
in the right side of the room along with the unruly bed are the feelings of passion and lust and heatheatheat and more fucking more. the all-consuming want to touch and feel and taste and be impossibly close. it’s a side that gets visited more often than what is supposed to, but it’s a side he wants just the same.
across it is the side of happiness and simplicity and contentment. all those times spent lying in each other’s arms and humming and watching the clouds roll by.
the last side is the anger and the annoyance. how they are so alike that they have nothing to fight for, and how they are so /different/ that they have everything to fight over. words are thrown and names are called but in the end, they throw each other on the bed and everything is right once more.
but the middle. smack in the middle is probably what makes the most sense. love. the undying, ardent love for him and him only. how nothing can ever make him stop loving him because it’s somehow already ingrained in his mind, altered into his own body and soul that he ///lives/// for him.
his room of emotions may be scattered, but he loves him all the same.
“Shoo!” He shouted at the mice. As they scattered towards the little hole below the cupboard, he continued sweeping, thinking about Diane. “Oh, how I wish she would fling her golden locks in my direction, ” he thought to himself. If only. Sam had dreamed and daydreamed about Diane since he was 15 years old. But still, he figured he was doomed to only get to look at her from a distance. How could he be in love with a girl he had never met? It was practically impossible. Yet he was. Every day, he would sweep the shop at exactly 3:45 to get a glance of her as she rushed to her job at Sally’s sweets. He would chuckle every time he saw her put her glasses on, tuck her hair into a ponytail, and fuss to fix her apron before she walked in. Sometimes, Diane would even see him and smile or wave. Then, at exactly 3:50 every day, he sighed as she disappeared in through those pink Sally’s Sweets doors and he went back to sweeping, still thinking about Diane, still waiting for the day that she would come in and talk to him. Sam had seriously considered going over and making the first move. But then he realized he didn’t want to get shot down. His fantasy could be over, and that would be the worst thing in the world, he thought. “There will always be another day. If I can’t talk to her now, I can talk to her later. I’ll work up the nerve someday.” Today was the day, Same said to himself. Today is the day I go over to Sally’s Sweet’s and I ask that magnificent girl out. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock ticked away. 3:43. 3:44. 3:45. He looked out the window waiting for her arrival. 3:46. 3:47. 3:48. This was strange. Diane was never late. 3:49. 3:50. 3:51. There has to be something wrong. She could just be held up somewhere. I’m sure this isn’t that unusual. 3:52. 3:53. 3:54. It finally dawned on him to go check at Sally’s Sweets.