The girl was structured about everything. From head to toe, her clothes were perfectly appropriate, her grades were perfect, her graceful movements… I was incredibly jealous.
The building fell onto itself. I couldn’t believe what I saw. The bricks crumbled down and crushed those beneath it. The structure had failed. The new world order had failed to create the perfect building that could house thousands and not take up any more room. A single tear fell from my eye. I really thought that this plan would work.
I loved the metaphor of life as a sonnet. A sonnet is a very structured form of poetry, with a set number of lines and rhyming pattern. But within the rigid structure, there is freedom to write anything you wish. Life is very similar.
this is what we should avoid. organization in our everday lives. we need to understand that things will unfold much better if we stop trying to control everything. life is meant to unravel or come apart in it’s own beautiful unruly way. let go, stop being paranoid that everything isn’t in your hands. breathe and just let it go.
They say that it’s good to have a structured life, but what about spontaneity? What about walking off the beaten path, the road less traveled?
Imagination, creativity?
Love isn’t structured. Life isn’t structured. My mind isn’t structured to fit around this misery. Yeah, I messed up big time, but when I try to apologize and want to fix it, you tell me it doesn’t matter. Life isn’t structured. Love isn’t structured.
A structured life is a fond memory. Nothing more. Structure is not something I can control anymore. I am a broken down, decrepit building. Put a For Sale sign upon my face and board me up for good.
Structured life
has fallen apart
Structured Plans
have fallen behind
The unexpected
Killed Structure
Along with a friends death
Structure becomes impossible
Like building silvery and stoney, grey and gleaming. They rise high into the blue, up and beyond. They’re boxing us in. Boxing us in. We’re stuck inside the structured moment of our lives. Do the dishes, fold the laundry, go to work, sleep. Repeat.
She looked back on her life with a smiling face. She had planned it out from the beginning. It was structured and organized, like a filing cabinet of memories.
when there is no structure, everything falls apart. things fall where they should not, people get hurt when they should not. if there is no backbone structure, there will not be survival.
The way we are all structured is totally separate from others. Individuals should be the word of the day. None of us are the same in any way. So be individual. Be structured.
towers fall down and my life falls apart. Schedules fill and so does my mind. Daily. Constantly. I have come to learn that chaos is structure in its own, beautiful sense. Like a symphony that doesn’t quite hit that right note, I go about my life “put together” but am secretly hanging on by a thread and dreaming of trading my heels in for a worn pair of sneakers–and I love every minute of it. Secretly.
Hateful. Who needs it and who wants it? Not me. You’d think it’s a good thing, but it really isn’t. It takes all the fun and spontaneity out of life. I reject structure. But I am living in it. So what to do then? What options am I left with when the society we’re in needs it. Who needs it? Am I a closet Anarchist? Possibly.
The carefully structured world was falling apart. Pieces were breaking, breaking and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces along the hardwood floor.
They drifted through her outstretched fingers like water.
With a cry, she reached for the falling world.
She missed.
And then it was gone.
So i guess is the only word? How is this website structured? I’m so confused. Oh well, I have better things to do now. Bye to all the people writing about structure. I hope you get inspired. I’m inspired to build a structured house now. Which reminds me, I need an IB MYP personal project idea.
Inside we are all different. It’s something that makes us unique. I for example am totally weird. I mean, today I wore pajamas to school. Plus, I almost put a big bow on the top of my head behind my bangs. My friends don’t care though. They’re structured differently too. That’s the cool thing about friends. We’re different.
I’ve never lived a structured life, though I always yearned for one. Everyone I’ve met has complained of how their parents have them do chores, how they have so many rules and curfews, how they have to spend time with their family. I’ve never experienced this lifestyle. Instead, my whole life was about taking care of myself. I never helped out around the house, I never had to deal with any real rules, and I never spent any time with my family. I was free to do almost anything, and I hated it. I didn’t want freedom. I wanted a family. A real live family, like the ones I saw when I spent the night at other people’s houses.
I still want a family, but I’ve given up on trying to make my blood relatives into something they’re not.
towers fall down and my life falls apart. Schedules fill and so does my mind. Daily. Constantly. I have come to learn that chaos is structure in its own, beautiful sense. Like a symphony that doesn’t quite hit that right note, I go about my life “put together” but am secretly hanging on by a thread and dreaming of trading my heels in for a worn pair of sneakers–and I love every minute of it. Secretly.
a well structured family is where each & every member knows exactly what their duties for the common good are. they work as a team, as a single unit. they look out for each other, love each other.
This paragraph won’t be structured because I’m expecting something more creative to pop out of my mind at any second, but it’s not happening. I go to oneword to write, but I’m never inspired. I miss the old days, but do I really?. Everything is so different now and I dont know what to think. I told you it wouldn’t be structured.
The body is structured in ways that one cannot even imagine. Gravity pulling down on every inch, yet the body pulling back. It was some sort of miracle… at least that’s what they were told.
I climbed over the bridge to find out how well the structure would hold. It didn’t, and when I fell, it was through centuries of pain and fear. I wasn’t sure what to make of the feeling, of the absolute turmoil I felt as I fell; I thought it must have been a dream. What else could have explained this? It’s not as though I was living inside an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
It would never work. He pressed the backspace key and deleted the idea. Now what? His life was a mess. She was gone. He could not pick up where he left off. It was unstructured, like a mosh pit of souls.
I need a structured life to be happy. I’ve discovered this over the course of time. I know that if I get any leeway I will be able to take advantage of it and will ultimately go overboard. I’m happy I know this, but sometimes it makes me unhappy since I get my panties in a bunch when i fall out.
The day was supposed to be structured. Lisa didn’t know what to do with this chaos. Okay, pull it together, she thought. You WILL get through this day. As a substitute teacher, Lisa knew the students needed her to be in charge. She would not loose it without lesson plans.
its too much
the blocks
the stones
brick by brick
in mind
its invisible, but all the same strong
too high too scale
too thick to call for help through
too tall to see the end
its too much
i build an architectural wonder, once up on a time. the palace for a princess, tangled amidst the classroom quiet. brick stone, steel concrete. hard and rigid it stood the test of time. a wall again all and everything.
A house, a building, a field. Anything could be structured yet nothing can be totally structured. Humans can try to structure but is it really possible to place everything in a tiny box?
She hated her structured life, being known what was going to happen to her from the time she opened her eyes in the morning until the time she shut them again at night. The absence of any chaos was the most painful thing, even more painful than the lashes she routinely received every noontime, just before she had her mid-day snack. Boredom burned more fiercely than a ruler across the knuckles.
Structured? Not in the least bit. Do you have enough time to listen to me whine?
The girl was structured about everything. From head to toe, her clothes were perfectly appropriate, her grades were perfect, her graceful movements… I was incredibly jealous.
The building fell onto itself. I couldn’t believe what I saw. The bricks crumbled down and crushed those beneath it. The structure had failed. The new world order had failed to create the perfect building that could house thousands and not take up any more room. A single tear fell from my eye. I really thought that this plan would work.
I loved the metaphor of life as a sonnet. A sonnet is a very structured form of poetry, with a set number of lines and rhyming pattern. But within the rigid structure, there is freedom to write anything you wish. Life is very similar.
this is what we should avoid. organization in our everday lives. we need to understand that things will unfold much better if we stop trying to control everything. life is meant to unravel or come apart in it’s own beautiful unruly way. let go, stop being paranoid that everything isn’t in your hands. breathe and just let it go.
They say that it’s good to have a structured life, but what about spontaneity? What about walking off the beaten path, the road less traveled?
Imagination, creativity?
Love isn’t structured. Life isn’t structured. My mind isn’t structured to fit around this misery. Yeah, I messed up big time, but when I try to apologize and want to fix it, you tell me it doesn’t matter. Life isn’t structured. Love isn’t structured.
A structured life is a fond memory. Nothing more. Structure is not something I can control anymore. I am a broken down, decrepit building. Put a For Sale sign upon my face and board me up for good.
My bones are structured awkwardly.
Structured life
has fallen apart
Structured Plans
have fallen behind
The unexpected
Killed Structure
Along with a friends death
Structure becomes impossible
The girl always desired a structured life. It never quite worked out that way. School, work, men. Life just got in the way.
Like building silvery and stoney, grey and gleaming. They rise high into the blue, up and beyond. They’re boxing us in. Boxing us in. We’re stuck inside the structured moment of our lives. Do the dishes, fold the laundry, go to work, sleep. Repeat.
She looked back on her life with a smiling face. She had planned it out from the beginning. It was structured and organized, like a filing cabinet of memories.
when there is no structure, everything falls apart. things fall where they should not, people get hurt when they should not. if there is no backbone structure, there will not be survival.
The way we are all structured is totally separate from others. Individuals should be the word of the day. None of us are the same in any way. So be individual. Be structured.
The structured structures structure structures.
A man’s structured shoulders can structure structures.
I structure my sentences with care, and they don’t make sense.
Then I let my mind loose. I relax; I stop thinking; I write.
Then, suddenly, on paper, I start understanding the chaos of my thoughts.
towers fall down and my life falls apart. Schedules fill and so does my mind. Daily. Constantly. I have come to learn that chaos is structure in its own, beautiful sense. Like a symphony that doesn’t quite hit that right note, I go about my life “put together” but am secretly hanging on by a thread and dreaming of trading my heels in for a worn pair of sneakers–and I love every minute of it. Secretly.
Hateful. Who needs it and who wants it? Not me. You’d think it’s a good thing, but it really isn’t. It takes all the fun and spontaneity out of life. I reject structure. But I am living in it. So what to do then? What options am I left with when the society we’re in needs it. Who needs it? Am I a closet Anarchist? Possibly.
The carefully structured world was falling apart. Pieces were breaking, breaking and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces along the hardwood floor.
They drifted through her outstretched fingers like water.
With a cry, she reached for the falling world.
She missed.
And then it was gone.
So i guess is the only word? How is this website structured? I’m so confused. Oh well, I have better things to do now. Bye to all the people writing about structure. I hope you get inspired. I’m inspired to build a structured house now. Which reminds me, I need an IB MYP personal project idea.
Inside we are all different. It’s something that makes us unique. I for example am totally weird. I mean, today I wore pajamas to school. Plus, I almost put a big bow on the top of my head behind my bangs. My friends don’t care though. They’re structured differently too. That’s the cool thing about friends. We’re different.
I’ve never lived a structured life, though I always yearned for one. Everyone I’ve met has complained of how their parents have them do chores, how they have so many rules and curfews, how they have to spend time with their family. I’ve never experienced this lifestyle. Instead, my whole life was about taking care of myself. I never helped out around the house, I never had to deal with any real rules, and I never spent any time with my family. I was free to do almost anything, and I hated it. I didn’t want freedom. I wanted a family. A real live family, like the ones I saw when I spent the night at other people’s houses.
I still want a family, but I’ve given up on trying to make my blood relatives into something they’re not.
towers fall down and my life falls apart. Schedules fill and so does my mind. Daily. Constantly. I have come to learn that chaos is structure in its own, beautiful sense. Like a symphony that doesn’t quite hit that right note, I go about my life “put together” but am secretly hanging on by a thread and dreaming of trading my heels in for a worn pair of sneakers–and I love every minute of it. Secretly.
a well structured family is where each & every member knows exactly what their duties for the common good are. they work as a team, as a single unit. they look out for each other, love each other.
structure my time is important– it comforts me. being spontaneous is wonderful but only to a certain extent
This paragraph won’t be structured because I’m expecting something more creative to pop out of my mind at any second, but it’s not happening. I go to oneword to write, but I’m never inspired. I miss the old days, but do I really?. Everything is so different now and I dont know what to think. I told you it wouldn’t be structured.
The body is structured in ways that one cannot even imagine. Gravity pulling down on every inch, yet the body pulling back. It was some sort of miracle… at least that’s what they were told.
I climbed over the bridge to find out how well the structure would hold. It didn’t, and when I fell, it was through centuries of pain and fear. I wasn’t sure what to make of the feeling, of the absolute turmoil I felt as I fell; I thought it must have been a dream. What else could have explained this? It’s not as though I was living inside an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Whenever I go on trips with people, I NEED a structured schedule. I feel so out of control when I don’t know exactly what’s going on at all times.
6 DAYS TILL SPAIN
I OCD-edly went through our itinerary and highlighted various aspects. I can’t wait to say, “meals? Oh yeah that’s in red.” hehehehe
It would never work. He pressed the backspace key and deleted the idea. Now what? His life was a mess. She was gone. He could not pick up where he left off. It was unstructured, like a mosh pit of souls.
I need a structured life to be happy. I’ve discovered this over the course of time. I know that if I get any leeway I will be able to take advantage of it and will ultimately go overboard. I’m happy I know this, but sometimes it makes me unhappy since I get my panties in a bunch when i fall out.
The day was supposed to be structured. Lisa didn’t know what to do with this chaos. Okay, pull it together, she thought. You WILL get through this day. As a substitute teacher, Lisa knew the students needed her to be in charge. She would not loose it without lesson plans.
its too much
the blocks
the stones
brick by brick
in mind
its invisible, but all the same strong
too high too scale
too thick to call for help through
too tall to see the end
its too much
walls built up around me. straight lines guide me. no bend. no curve. no corner. no suprise. no fun. hop out and join the real world
i build an architectural wonder, once up on a time. the palace for a princess, tangled amidst the classroom quiet. brick stone, steel concrete. hard and rigid it stood the test of time. a wall again all and everything.
My life is not structured. Everything is a mess.
A house, a building, a field. Anything could be structured yet nothing can be totally structured. Humans can try to structure but is it really possible to place everything in a tiny box?
She hated her structured life, being known what was going to happen to her from the time she opened her eyes in the morning until the time she shut them again at night. The absence of any chaos was the most painful thing, even more painful than the lashes she routinely received every noontime, just before she had her mid-day snack. Boredom burned more fiercely than a ruler across the knuckles.
She preferred an organized, structured routine to spontaneous living. Her classic, type A personality didn’t relish unexpected surprises