There are spots on all things, living and deceased. Spots that blind the world to see them wholly, as they truly are, and spots that keep them from seeing the world as it is. There is a problem for the world when we cannot see through the spots that are there in front of us.
I once saw a dog in a corner of a room. It was neither black nor white nor grey but an orange as sun in the bleak of the summer. In this desolate canvas he leapt up at me and licked upon my face. I smelled his musk with a revolting lust.
The spot stared at me; its color light at the edges, but darker in the middle. I wish I hadn’t had that last bottle of wine before dozing off to sleep — yet the evidence was there. It must have been one wild party, I thought. All I remembered was stumbling through the door, laughing raucously, with Tom and John holding me up. My stomach twisted: nausea. And I was on the verge of hurling.
actress films cameras all arround and everybody looking forward to see how it ends up. will it be famous will it made them rich, will it be a winnier spot will
this makes me think of spot the dog. i loved him when i was little and i used to read his books. it also makes me think of writing. like a spot on a paper, period. which is cool because it finalizes something and allows an ending. or a spot on a paper or clothes, blemish. it is a mistake on it and something wrong with it.
there’s this tiny little indiscretion a small spot on an oh so perfect life…creating a cavern where once was so open..i often go there when there’s time.
this place is the spot where i like to lay
i sit in this spot cause it is my favorite place.
i can’t say why this spot it my choice to play
i’d sit in this spot all day
the way that everything else goes away,
is something i can’t leave there to leave astray
He looked down at his hands and shrieked at the sight. He rubbed them furiously. He ran to the mirror and began to rub his face until it was raw. “I can’t get this spot off.” He looked in the mirror again and saw that black spots were popping up all over his clean complection. He jumped into the shower(with his clothes still on) and turned the scalding het water on. At first it burned his skin, but eventually, he began to sanitize once again.
I accidentally walked in on him and stared in shock. His head turned towards me, “I can’t get these spots off of me” I gasped, he had no spot on his skin.
I can’t remember the rest of it. It’s like the memories of childhood have been erased from my mind forever. Perhaps it was the trauma of living in a disjointed family, none of whose members truly loved each other. Or perhaps it was simply a reflex, a method of pushing back against the horrible things I went through. In any case, my memories of life before the age of about twelve were empty, a blank slate with a few vivid events inextricably etched onto it.
Spot on, he said, as I took her laptop, her possessions, her clothes, her papers, her life, her fake existence and threw them, flung them with all my might and hate across the chorus room. Spot on.
I think dalmations or however you spell those dogs that are black and white with spots. I also think of the spot that is on the floor that I have no idea what is made of.
The one thing that made me feel like me, no matter what. Through winter, summer, morning through night of every day I had my freckles, the little spots playing connect the dot up and down my shoulder blades.
There’s a spot in a field across from my house; from that spot you can see the whole town. At night, it looks like a reflection of the sky. At dawn, it seems like a mouse waking from its sleep.
I have a spot on my leg. It is blue and sore. I have no idea where is came from. I wonder if at night I go on crazy adventures and swashbuckle with pirates for some treasure.
Spot. Spot the dog. Spot the one that is not like the others. Spot the spotter. Spot. Spot. Spot. I just like to say spot. Such a fun, little satisfying word. Spots on the carpet. Spots on the clothes. That’s what laundry detergent is for.
There are spots on all things, living and deceased. Spots that blind the world to see them wholly, as they truly are, and spots that keep them from seeing the world as it is. There is a problem for the world when we cannot see through the spots that are there in front of us.
rock cat dog money hoe car tot smug
I once saw a dog in a corner of a room. It was neither black nor white nor grey but an orange as sun in the bleak of the summer. In this desolate canvas he leapt up at me and licked upon my face. I smelled his musk with a revolting lust.
I am so sure of nothing;
So unsure of everything.
There’s a spot in my vision
And it’s plotting to spring
Anytime I mess up
It’s there to exploit me
And grow bigger and bigger
‘Till the I’m no longer free
So spot, I wish to leave
And set sail on my own
Big spot that blocks my vision
Leave me alone.
i have many spots in my body. Whether it is a birthmark, scar, or mole. These spots my not be pretty, but they are a part of me now.
The spot stared at me; its color light at the edges, but darker in the middle. I wish I hadn’t had that last bottle of wine before dozing off to sleep — yet the evidence was there. It must have been one wild party, I thought. All I remembered was stumbling through the door, laughing raucously, with Tom and John holding me up. My stomach twisted: nausea. And I was on the verge of hurling.
see spot run there is a spot on my shirt i think that spots on dalmations are beautiful i think i spot something! spot rearranged is stop.
actress films cameras all arround and everybody looking forward to see how it ends up. will it be famous will it made them rich, will it be a winnier spot will
place
happiness
comfort
security
laughter
alone
lonely
isolated
hole
circle
dog
cat
animals
nothing
forever
existence
flaw
insecuritites
unique
confidence
proud
this makes me think of spot the dog. i loved him when i was little and i used to read his books. it also makes me think of writing. like a spot on a paper, period. which is cool because it finalizes something and allows an ending. or a spot on a paper or clothes, blemish. it is a mistake on it and something wrong with it.
there’s this tiny little indiscretion a small spot on an oh so perfect life…creating a cavern where once was so open..i often go there when there’s time.
this place is the spot where i like to lay
i sit in this spot cause it is my favorite place.
i can’t say why this spot it my choice to play
i’d sit in this spot all day
the way that everything else goes away,
is something i can’t leave there to leave astray
lobotomy
spot the dog jumped over the log
to see if he could spot the difference
between a spot and a pimple
and also to get a good spot at the park
He looked down at his hands and shrieked at the sight. He rubbed them furiously. He ran to the mirror and began to rub his face until it was raw. “I can’t get this spot off.” He looked in the mirror again and saw that black spots were popping up all over his clean complection. He jumped into the shower(with his clothes still on) and turned the scalding het water on. At first it burned his skin, but eventually, he began to sanitize once again.
I accidentally walked in on him and stared in shock. His head turned towards me, “I can’t get these spots off of me” I gasped, he had no spot on his skin.
There is a spot where I feel the bet. I can be sad or happy and i feel ok. I feel loved and no one can hurt me.
I spot so many things everyday that astound me. Amazing. Wondrous. Life.
See spot run.
I can’t remember the rest of it. It’s like the memories of childhood have been erased from my mind forever. Perhaps it was the trauma of living in a disjointed family, none of whose members truly loved each other. Or perhaps it was simply a reflex, a method of pushing back against the horrible things I went through. In any case, my memories of life before the age of about twelve were empty, a blank slate with a few vivid events inextricably etched onto it.
Spot on, he said, as I took her laptop, her possessions, her clothes, her papers, her life, her fake existence and threw them, flung them with all my might and hate across the chorus room. Spot on.
I think dalmations or however you spell those dogs that are black and white with spots. I also think of the spot that is on the floor that I have no idea what is made of.
Spot decisions …Which are to be taken on the right time when needed … People dont realise it sometimes …
dog, face, hole, circle, red, big, fat, huge, bald, tan, same, some, that, shoes,
DOTS….I SEE MANY. LITTLE THINGS THAT BUG PEOPLE. CUNFUSION. IN A DAZE. EYES STARING AT YOU. LADYBUGS HAHA. MANY COLORS.
spot theres not alot to say about the word spot maybe its on you shirt maybe your seeing a bunch of them after standing up too fast…i suck
The one thing that made me feel like me, no matter what. Through winter, summer, morning through night of every day I had my freckles, the little spots playing connect the dot up and down my shoulder blades.
There’s a spot in a field across from my house; from that spot you can see the whole town. At night, it looks like a reflection of the sky. At dawn, it seems like a mouse waking from its sleep.
I have a spot on my leg. It is blue and sore. I have no idea where is came from. I wonder if at night I go on crazy adventures and swashbuckle with pirates for some treasure.
My favorite spot is that hill. Where the sun kisses our skin, and the wind makes our hair fly; Fly up towards the sky and into the world.
evil spot run for your life a boy say momey!
Spot. Spot the dog. Spot the one that is not like the others. Spot the spotter. Spot. Spot. Spot. I just like to say spot. Such a fun, little satisfying word. Spots on the carpet. Spots on the clothes. That’s what laundry detergent is for.
omg a spot that will blow up the world go into your room and hide and hope not to be gone when it blow up the world