The spine; an adaptation to living on land, when what would soon be humans were still strange, scaly, four legged creatures also known as amphibians. Now, millions of years later, I was staring at the white column of my backbone against the black of the x-ray film and wondering what exactly had gone wrong.
The covered bridge rises over the horizon like an exposed, sun-bleached spine. We approach it from the east, and the opening seems to widen as we get close. The bridge gives a little under our weight. I swear I can hear it breathing.
One time there was a man with no spine. he only had a girlfriend but no dog or family or children, so he didn’t want to live. he then jumped off a bridge into the water below. effectively commiting suicide. everyone was sad, but they understood that what he did was an act of desperation, and they agreed that they wouldn’t want to live like that either. The End.
The spine of my body is the spine of the novel I wish to write. I am everything my book would say, and has to say, but no one wishes to listen. Let my story dissipate, like the fleeting thoughts and opinions our society bases life on.
A woman stopped me outside of Borders today while I was parking my car. She was black, middle-aged and wore a baggy T-shirt. I don’t remember her name, even though she introduced herself and shook my hand, said her sister’s name was the same as mine. She walked with a limp and told me she had four little girls waiting on her at the McDonald’s across the parking lot. She told me she had been badly beaten by her husband, just had 9 staples in her torso. The women’s shelter was going to help her tomorrow, put her up somewhere, give her and her girls a roof to sleep under. Right now, she said, she needed $40 to buy a night at Motel 6, to wait until tomorrow when the women’s shelter was ready to help her. I gave her a 20 dollar bill. A brief look of surprise and relief crossed her face. Maybe. She praised Jesus and hugged me across my car window. “I’ll never forget your name, Nina,” she said, “God bless you.” Was she lying? I don’t know. But I find I don’t care. Am I $20 bucks short to a scam artist? Whatever, she looked like she needed it more than I did. And if she was telling the truth, then I’ve done a wonderful thing.
I don’t know how long I stared at the old journal. It felt like hours, long enough for every one of the cracks in its leathery surface to ingrain itself in my mind. I ran a hand along its worn spine, knowing that if I opened it, everything would chance.
It poked through the skin on his back and created a bumpy ridge. Ew, man, that’s sick they told him. He was too skinny and they made jokes, asking if something was wrong with him but they wouldn’t have ever said those things if they knew then what they discovered the next day.
Spine. The spine. The backbone of all complex life, the spine is what houses the nervous systems of most complext endoskeletal life. Without the spine, we’d all be chitinoous insects.
The spine of the book was covered with leather, and was worn. When I opened it, I saw the spine almost came off. I asked the librarian about it, and she said I could buy it if I wanted. So I did, and that book changed my life.
the spine is part of the human body. if you do too much acid, and you crack your back, then i heard that you can go back into an acid trip. it really sucks to break your spine too because you aren’t allowed to get pain killers or w.e during surgery because its your spine. it’s a very important part of our body and basically defines what humans are. i accidently started this over again. my bad.
Her spine curved around like the railroad avoiding steep hills. She always wanted to stand up straight, but the story of the little engine that could didn’t work for her. By the time she grew up, she’d stopped dreaming of being upright, but she still imagined looking people in the eyes.
It was shorter than the others, but it didn’t need to be long to be effective. Covered in a deadly toxin produced by the urchin to defend itself from those who would eat it, the spine served to effectively end the life of the unlucky drunkard who stumbled onto it.
Spine soaked with LSD in a strange crowded country. Every moment relapses in awkwardness. God has seen me with my pants down. He called me incompotent.
my backbone needs some work in order to be strong like a book’s spine. mine tends to bend and tilt and crumble under pressure, probably more like a christopher pike or an r.l. stine than a harper lee, a rushdie or an austen.
i looked at the evil looking spine. it wiggled and made its way over. i have never seen anytin like it. i hit it wit a broom stick…nothing. i smashed a plate on it…nothin. i think i may have to feed it to the dog!
Chills run down my spine. I’m alone. It’s late a t night. You’re not here, and there’s a shadow around. It’s not a monster, not a serial killer. It’s not a vampire, not a werewolf. It’s just the memory of you, that won’t go away.
The X-ray was nothing more than a tough reminder of what she had already known.
She had felt it coming. She knew what was to happen.
The doctors had located a 3-inch tumor in her spine.
Removing it would cause paralysis from the neck down, leaving it there would do the same.
will You just get a spine! I’m so sick and tired of you having no back bone, and letting everyone you know walk all over you. please stop killing yourself slowly!
How do you have the spine to come into my life and mess up my head? How do I have the spine to LET you mess up my head? This is all so simple and yet we think we can afford to complicate it. Like that of a newborn, our spines have to be broken before it can be strong and flexible enough to carry us.
It was never normal nor acceptable, but he wasn’t able to go on without it. Covered in the ink stains it was all he could do to hide it. Never had anyone seen the whole of the disfigured spine, expect for the violet eyes located in the head above. But now it was a time of change and change it would have to be. Never again would he be forced to live the shadows.
Something told me that something was wrong. In reality, maybe nothing was wrong, but I wasn’t about to stop. A shiver ran up my spine and I looked behind me, my pony tail coming round to hit my face. Nothing was there, that I could see, but the woods closed around me like an uncomfortable blanket. I wasn’t alone in the blanket either.
I wish I had a spine,
the confidence it would take to make you mine,
yes if only I had a spine,
The spine; an adaptation to living on land, when what would soon be humans were still strange, scaly, four legged creatures also known as amphibians. Now, millions of years later, I was staring at the white column of my backbone against the black of the x-ray film and wondering what exactly had gone wrong.
The covered bridge rises over the horizon like an exposed, sun-bleached spine. We approach it from the east, and the opening seems to widen as we get close. The bridge gives a little under our weight. I swear I can hear it breathing.
i have a spine… not get it spine knot haha not funny a spine has vertebrae and is basically the bodys support
One time there was a man with no spine. he only had a girlfriend but no dog or family or children, so he didn’t want to live. he then jumped off a bridge into the water below. effectively commiting suicide. everyone was sad, but they understood that what he did was an act of desperation, and they agreed that they wouldn’t want to live like that either. The End.
The spine of my body is the spine of the novel I wish to write. I am everything my book would say, and has to say, but no one wishes to listen. Let my story dissipate, like the fleeting thoughts and opinions our society bases life on.
A woman stopped me outside of Borders today while I was parking my car. She was black, middle-aged and wore a baggy T-shirt. I don’t remember her name, even though she introduced herself and shook my hand, said her sister’s name was the same as mine. She walked with a limp and told me she had four little girls waiting on her at the McDonald’s across the parking lot. She told me she had been badly beaten by her husband, just had 9 staples in her torso. The women’s shelter was going to help her tomorrow, put her up somewhere, give her and her girls a roof to sleep under. Right now, she said, she needed $40 to buy a night at Motel 6, to wait until tomorrow when the women’s shelter was ready to help her. I gave her a 20 dollar bill. A brief look of surprise and relief crossed her face. Maybe. She praised Jesus and hugged me across my car window. “I’ll never forget your name, Nina,” she said, “God bless you.” Was she lying? I don’t know. But I find I don’t care. Am I $20 bucks short to a scam artist? Whatever, she looked like she needed it more than I did. And if she was telling the truth, then I’ve done a wonderful thing.
I have no spine, every time I ask a girl out (or goto ask) it fails due to my lack of mobility.
I don’t know how long I stared at the old journal. It felt like hours, long enough for every one of the cracks in its leathery surface to ingrain itself in my mind. I ran a hand along its worn spine, knowing that if I opened it, everything would chance.
Spine: what I clearly dont’ have.
It poked through the skin on his back and created a bumpy ridge. Ew, man, that’s sick they told him. He was too skinny and they made jokes, asking if something was wrong with him but they wouldn’t have ever said those things if they knew then what they discovered the next day.
It’s long and hard and houses nerves and fluids. a lot like a penis.
is part of your back and is the center of all the neurons that go through your body
the spine is they way your body comunicates with itself
Spine. The spine. The backbone of all complex life, the spine is what houses the nervous systems of most complext endoskeletal life. Without the spine, we’d all be chitinoous insects.
She had a spine like a cat. I could run my fingers up her back, and each vertebrae would move with my touch.
The spine of the book was covered with leather, and was worn. When I opened it, I saw the spine almost came off. I asked the librarian about it, and she said I could buy it if I wanted. So I did, and that book changed my life.
the spine is part of the human body. if you do too much acid, and you crack your back, then i heard that you can go back into an acid trip. it really sucks to break your spine too because you aren’t allowed to get pain killers or w.e during surgery because its your spine. it’s a very important part of our body and basically defines what humans are. i accidently started this over again. my bad.
Her spine curved around like the railroad avoiding steep hills. She always wanted to stand up straight, but the story of the little engine that could didn’t work for her. By the time she grew up, she’d stopped dreaming of being upright, but she still imagined looking people in the eyes.
It was shorter than the others, but it didn’t need to be long to be effective. Covered in a deadly toxin produced by the urchin to defend itself from those who would eat it, the spine served to effectively end the life of the unlucky drunkard who stumbled onto it.
everything you feel, you feel it run up and down your spine.
spine is sometim that sapareat of hes home to hause
Spine soaked with LSD in a strange crowded country. Every moment relapses in awkwardness. God has seen me with my pants down. He called me incompotent.
my backbone needs some work in order to be strong like a book’s spine. mine tends to bend and tilt and crumble under pressure, probably more like a christopher pike or an r.l. stine than a harper lee, a rushdie or an austen.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, he was there, she could feel his eyes on her, watching, waiting, calculating.
it supports me it sometimes bends the wrong way and that hurts. solid. bone.
Everyone in the world has a spine right? i got a spine you too right? I love that spine in my back.
spine..huh, i always wondered about the word spine, isnt it a funny word, spine,,heheheh spine… hahahaha.
spine is sometim that sapareat of hes home
i looked at the evil looking spine. it wiggled and made its way over. i have never seen anytin like it. i hit it wit a broom stick…nothing. i smashed a plate on it…nothin. i think i may have to feed it to the dog!
Chills run down my spine. I’m alone. It’s late a t night. You’re not here, and there’s a shadow around. It’s not a monster, not a serial killer. It’s not a vampire, not a werewolf. It’s just the memory of you, that won’t go away.
The X-ray was nothing more than a tough reminder of what she had already known.
She had felt it coming. She knew what was to happen.
The doctors had located a 3-inch tumor in her spine.
Removing it would cause paralysis from the neck down, leaving it there would do the same.
I don’t think much about book spines, but they are an important part of literature.
will You just get a spine! I’m so sick and tired of you having no back bone, and letting everyone you know walk all over you. please stop killing yourself slowly!
How do you have the spine to come into my life and mess up my head? How do I have the spine to LET you mess up my head? This is all so simple and yet we think we can afford to complicate it. Like that of a newborn, our spines have to be broken before it can be strong and flexible enough to carry us.
It was never normal nor acceptable, but he wasn’t able to go on without it. Covered in the ink stains it was all he could do to hide it. Never had anyone seen the whole of the disfigured spine, expect for the violet eyes located in the head above. But now it was a time of change and change it would have to be. Never again would he be forced to live the shadows.
stay straight for the attitude
Spines. They are ugly little tenticle thingys. They break easily. and if you break it. you could die or be paralized. so fun. right?
Teat your spine
It creaked horribly, as though the earth were revealing its innards by piercing its own crusty bones through its grassy skin.
Something told me that something was wrong. In reality, maybe nothing was wrong, but I wasn’t about to stop. A shiver ran up my spine and I looked behind me, my pony tail coming round to hit my face. Nothing was there, that I could see, but the woods closed around me like an uncomfortable blanket. I wasn’t alone in the blanket either.