we just watched tangled i like that movie alot. but now that i see this word, my recitation teacher pops into mind. OMGG he has a CRAZY MANE of a beard and his HAIR !! and it’s curly.. so it just FLARES out in all directions and he has RED HAIR. @.@ imagine that. and i’ve recently realized ALOT of mathmeticians don’t shave. @.@ why is that it’s SO UNRULY !! there’s this guy with a giant beard!!
i like to tangle in the jungle, with animals and lions and vines and what not. some are scared by these creatures but they understand that we all have good hearts and are not all tangled up in anger and cities and cement but unstead they get to know us through our eyes. eyes.
When my hair gets really wet in the rain it sometimes gets tangled. I hate it because it pulls and rips at my scalp and it can sometimes leave me with really frizzy curls. I prefer it when my hair is just nice and short and easy to manage. That way I don’t get it tangled. Once I wangled my turds.
My hair. My hair is tangly every single day, it mirrors my life. I try to fix things, and they only become a giant knot on my head, and no matter how long I incessantly comb it I can’t brush it out.
I ran the brush through my hair and pulled at the knots. I knew it would take me hours, as my think curly hair seemed to adhere to itself, more and more, no matter how long I pulled. It was as though each curl was so wrapped up in itself that the more I tried to work them out, the harder they resisted me. They reminded me of every problem in my life…
Thoughts tangled. Drifting. Lost in my head. There was really nothing I could do for them. All three of them, floating down, peacefully, like flower petals dropping to the ground. I knew they only looked like that from where I was, way up high. It was over for them, and I couldn’t do a thing.
I am tangled in this stupid mess we have created for ourselves. I am not sure which one of us started this, but part of me wants it to end. It is not that pleasant anymore. The knowledge of me just being a plaything is becoming more inescapable. Everyone seems to bring it to my attention nowadays, I’d rather not notice it. Makes it easier.
I was walking out of the watering hole after a lovely dip in the cool, clean water when I found I couldn’t move any further. Upon inspection, I saw that my hair had become tangled in a nearby branch. As I had failed to brush my hair recently, it was quite untamed and knotted, and this just exacerbated the problem. In the meantime, my friends, instead of being of assistance were laughing carelessly at me.
TANGLE. I WAS TANGLED ALL UP IN THOSE LIES. THOSE LIES THAT I TOLD YOU. THOSE LIES THAT YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER FORGET. THE ONES THAT BROKE US. THE ONES THAT MADE ME LOVE YOU.
TANGLE. I WAS TANGLED ALL UP IN YOU WHICH MADE ME LIE WHICH MADE ME LOVE YOU MORE. BUT IT MADE YOU HATE ME.
sometimes you get into the kind of tangle that nobody can get out of.. the kind of tangle that has no visible entrance. the kind of tangle that has no visible solution. you find yourself seated in the middle of a great mass of fiber, a great knot of situation… alone. sometimes it just takes sitting in the middle for a great long time to allow it to dissolve.
In tangles of flicker, the boy watched from under the overpass as trucks roared over. The hot metal and diesel wafted down. His gaze flitted warily over concrete and trash heaps, never still. A steam pillar screamed up from a grate. A posse of rats scrabbled under a tarp.
She flickered open her eyes, her fingers still intertwined with his. She didn’t dare make a sound, didn’t dare wake him up. She just lay there, tangled in the bedsheets, cuddling close to him, surrounded by the blissfully happy, sleepy silence.
His hands tangled in her hair. Their lips just barely brushed, they were saying goodbye and yet every part of their beings held onto each other. They drank in the moment, refusing to let go of the others gaze, soon to be the last and only thing they could hold onto.
I can’t believe how hard it is to move inside of here. Does this human never wash their hair. Does she never brush it. Life is hard for lice when hair is so tangled.
My hair was tangled after the fall. It was days later I remember the sound of the birds, and the air on my skin. But seconds after the fall all I could remember was the way the wind tangled my hair.
My web, So cliche. I’m sorry world for spewing a lifetime of thoughts not my own. Recycled like cans, or Vans no longer functional. Tax incentive. What’s our life incentive? What is it for? Where do we find ourselves?
Its all tangled up, my brain. Inside I’m a mess of anxiety and so much more. I just want pain and pain but happiness, more. I don’t know how to get it though. I really don’t. What to do, what to do. Should I get drunk again, or will that just make it all worse. Almost a year but should I give that up now?
That is the one word that can describe this situation. a tangle. He loves me, she loves him, and I love HER.
Tangle.
There is no comb that can change it.
is it a sin to love?
After the fall all she could remember was her tangled hair. Not the way the air felt on her skin or the birds passed her by, but how the wind tangled her hair.
my hair gets tangled when i go to festivals. i sometimes wonder is if dreads might be nice. when we were young we put fruity detangle spray in our hair, i may have used it as perfume from time to time. tis true. the word tangle makes me think of tangerines; the color orange is included in this idea.
I was tangled in his love that completly held me to the center of the earth. Tangled in life, love and hurt, that was I could think of when I see the word TANGLED on the screen
My hair is tangled! the world is SO TANGLED! If we could just get our hair out of our faces we would be able to see how wonderful the world is, albeit tangled. there is a type of beauty in how tangled the world is because really life is just so unpredictable. Embrace the unpredictably tangled.
Waists resist
hair mangles
legs twist
Arms dangle
Thoughts mix
Dreams wrangle
The rhythm moves
To to Tango
Oh, oh
Not the Tango?
Oh, oh
the word is Tangle…
I dont really know what tangle means, but it actually bring me to mind something about being clingy. I think out there it’s thought that being clingy is some people’s defect, I actually think it is a human need.
you know, I never meant for it to happen like this. Some how things just got so…fucked up. Twisted, distorted. I just don’t know anymore. It’s hard to tell my thoughts from hers. I hear a sound and I can’t…. a smell a taste, it doesn’t matter…
my hair tangled into your fingers, the light caressing your skin. I love the way we are, the shape or your fingers, the scent of your face pressed up against my shoulder. Tangle your legs into mine, crossed like heart shaped leaves and vines.
Tangle was a good movie. My favorite character was Pascal though. He really made the movie for me. Her hair was literally tangled to the point of nasty. But cute movie overall.
there are many vines that can tangle a person. Strings and things long and thin will often twine about each extennsion of toe, finger, hand, head and leg.
Tangles are better than angles so long as the angles are not a-cute.
My hair gets tangled. my heart is tangled right now. It’s so confused, twisted and tangled into itself. It wants two different things but can’t decide which to fight harder for. I want to be happy, I want to be loved, I don’t want to be tangled anymore. I just want to be happy.
i hate it when my hair gets tangled in the morning, or when you’re dying your hair and you need to brush the colour through but its like you’re pulling half your hair out. i do however love untangeling things like the wires from headphones, a little of lifes pleasures :)
her hair was tangled. it was a tangly mess dirty with grease and residue from her long night out at the town. although she tried to get the knots out, she did not succeed and broke her comb. next time she will make sure to keep her hair in a pony tail so it doesn’t happen again. it is not a pleasant experience.
tangled up in vines in the jungle, monkeys swinging and throwing rocks at manatees in the ocean. everyone knows monkeys hate manatees…. once a year manatees grow feet so they can mat. people do
I feel all tangled up in my thoughts and feelings; I can’t enjoy life. I get concerned about things I have no control over and get tangled up in them. I should fill my time with my aspirations and inspirations.
She stared at him wordlessly as he began to meticulously arrange the tangled strands of spaghetti, delicately unraveling them so they wouldn’t break and then placing them, side by side, completely straightened on his plate.
He kept jabbering endlessly about some subject or other, but she couldn’t concentrate. Like an idiot, she gaped wordlessly at him as he, uncaring of the marinara sauce staining his fingers, continued to play with the tangled spaghetti.
Oh yeah. This was the last time she would let her roommate set her up.
ball of string that often times becomes tangled when you unravel and try to make things using it but loose track of time and end up putting the project on hold for a number of days and you move the ball, now unraveled, around the house and then end up picking it up later to finish the project but you forgot all the strings were not tightly rolled into a ball and so it becomes tangled.
we just watched tangled i like that movie alot. but now that i see this word, my recitation teacher pops into mind. OMGG he has a CRAZY MANE of a beard and his HAIR !! and it’s curly.. so it just FLARES out in all directions and he has RED HAIR. @.@ imagine that. and i’ve recently realized ALOT of mathmeticians don’t shave. @.@ why is that it’s SO UNRULY !! there’s this guy with a giant beard!!
i like to tangle in the jungle, with animals and lions and vines and what not. some are scared by these creatures but they understand that we all have good hearts and are not all tangled up in anger and cities and cement but unstead they get to know us through our eyes. eyes.
When my hair gets really wet in the rain it sometimes gets tangled. I hate it because it pulls and rips at my scalp and it can sometimes leave me with really frizzy curls. I prefer it when my hair is just nice and short and easy to manage. That way I don’t get it tangled. Once I wangled my turds.
My hair. My hair is tangly every single day, it mirrors my life. I try to fix things, and they only become a giant knot on my head, and no matter how long I incessantly comb it I can’t brush it out.
I ran the brush through my hair and pulled at the knots. I knew it would take me hours, as my think curly hair seemed to adhere to itself, more and more, no matter how long I pulled. It was as though each curl was so wrapped up in itself that the more I tried to work them out, the harder they resisted me. They reminded me of every problem in my life…
Thoughts tangled. Drifting. Lost in my head. There was really nothing I could do for them. All three of them, floating down, peacefully, like flower petals dropping to the ground. I knew they only looked like that from where I was, way up high. It was over for them, and I couldn’t do a thing.
I am tangled in this stupid mess we have created for ourselves. I am not sure which one of us started this, but part of me wants it to end. It is not that pleasant anymore. The knowledge of me just being a plaything is becoming more inescapable. Everyone seems to bring it to my attention nowadays, I’d rather not notice it. Makes it easier.
I was walking out of the watering hole after a lovely dip in the cool, clean water when I found I couldn’t move any further. Upon inspection, I saw that my hair had become tangled in a nearby branch. As I had failed to brush my hair recently, it was quite untamed and knotted, and this just exacerbated the problem. In the meantime, my friends, instead of being of assistance were laughing carelessly at me.
TANGLE. I WAS TANGLED ALL UP IN THOSE LIES. THOSE LIES THAT I TOLD YOU. THOSE LIES THAT YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER FORGET. THE ONES THAT BROKE US. THE ONES THAT MADE ME LOVE YOU.
TANGLE. I WAS TANGLED ALL UP IN YOU WHICH MADE ME LIE WHICH MADE ME LOVE YOU MORE. BUT IT MADE YOU HATE ME.
sometimes you get into the kind of tangle that nobody can get out of.. the kind of tangle that has no visible entrance. the kind of tangle that has no visible solution. you find yourself seated in the middle of a great mass of fiber, a great knot of situation… alone. sometimes it just takes sitting in the middle for a great long time to allow it to dissolve.
In tangles of flicker, the boy watched from under the overpass as trucks roared over. The hot metal and diesel wafted down. His gaze flitted warily over concrete and trash heaps, never still. A steam pillar screamed up from a grate. A posse of rats scrabbled under a tarp.
She flickered open her eyes, her fingers still intertwined with his. She didn’t dare make a sound, didn’t dare wake him up. She just lay there, tangled in the bedsheets, cuddling close to him, surrounded by the blissfully happy, sleepy silence.
to tangle a web
to tangle a life
all the same
all the strife
this world is no place
for a man like me
i hope not to be tangled
in your messed up tree
And when our bodies were entwined in the positions of the karma sutra, mmm….
His hands tangled in her hair. Their lips just barely brushed, they were saying goodbye and yet every part of their beings held onto each other. They drank in the moment, refusing to let go of the others gaze, soon to be the last and only thing they could hold onto.
I can’t believe how hard it is to move inside of here. Does this human never wash their hair. Does she never brush it. Life is hard for lice when hair is so tangled.
My hair was tangled after the fall. It was days later I remember the sound of the birds, and the air on my skin. But seconds after the fall all I could remember was the way the wind tangled my hair.
“Don’t get tangled in that phone-line” the old hag screamed.
I wasn’t interested in what she had to say. She was older than me and, by default, stupider than me. Or, so, was the mindset I’d adopted as a child.
My web, So cliche. I’m sorry world for spewing a lifetime of thoughts not my own. Recycled like cans, or Vans no longer functional. Tax incentive. What’s our life incentive? What is it for? Where do we find ourselves?
Its all tangled up, my brain. Inside I’m a mess of anxiety and so much more. I just want pain and pain but happiness, more. I don’t know how to get it though. I really don’t. What to do, what to do. Should I get drunk again, or will that just make it all worse. Almost a year but should I give that up now?
Our lives: entwined, our fingers tangled together, we are so lovely. Walks on the beach, freckles dotting your face: it’s oh so wonderful.
That is the one word that can describe this situation. a tangle. He loves me, she loves him, and I love HER.
Tangle.
There is no comb that can change it.
is it a sin to love?
After the fall all she could remember was her tangled hair. Not the way the air felt on her skin or the birds passed her by, but how the wind tangled her hair.
my hair gets tangled when i go to festivals. i sometimes wonder is if dreads might be nice. when we were young we put fruity detangle spray in our hair, i may have used it as perfume from time to time. tis true. the word tangle makes me think of tangerines; the color orange is included in this idea.
I was tangled in his love that completly held me to the center of the earth. Tangled in life, love and hurt, that was I could think of when I see the word TANGLED on the screen
My hair is tangled! the world is SO TANGLED! If we could just get our hair out of our faces we would be able to see how wonderful the world is, albeit tangled. there is a type of beauty in how tangled the world is because really life is just so unpredictable. Embrace the unpredictably tangled.
Waists resist
hair mangles
legs twist
Arms dangle
Thoughts mix
Dreams wrangle
The rhythm moves
To to Tango
Oh, oh
Not the Tango?
Oh, oh
the word is Tangle…
I dont really know what tangle means, but it actually bring me to mind something about being clingy. I think out there it’s thought that being clingy is some people’s defect, I actually think it is a human need.
you know, I never meant for it to happen like this. Some how things just got so…fucked up. Twisted, distorted. I just don’t know anymore. It’s hard to tell my thoughts from hers. I hear a sound and I can’t…. a smell a taste, it doesn’t matter…
my hair tangled into your fingers, the light caressing your skin. I love the way we are, the shape or your fingers, the scent of your face pressed up against my shoulder. Tangle your legs into mine, crossed like heart shaped leaves and vines.
Tangle was a good movie. My favorite character was Pascal though. He really made the movie for me. Her hair was literally tangled to the point of nasty. But cute movie overall.
there are many vines that can tangle a person. Strings and things long and thin will often twine about each extennsion of toe, finger, hand, head and leg.
Tangles are better than angles so long as the angles are not a-cute.
My hair gets tangled. my heart is tangled right now. It’s so confused, twisted and tangled into itself. It wants two different things but can’t decide which to fight harder for. I want to be happy, I want to be loved, I don’t want to be tangled anymore. I just want to be happy.
i hate it when my hair gets tangled in the morning, or when you’re dying your hair and you need to brush the colour through but its like you’re pulling half your hair out. i do however love untangeling things like the wires from headphones, a little of lifes pleasures :)
her hair was tangled. it was a tangly mess dirty with grease and residue from her long night out at the town. although she tried to get the knots out, she did not succeed and broke her comb. next time she will make sure to keep her hair in a pony tail so it doesn’t happen again. it is not a pleasant experience.
tangled up in vines in the jungle, monkeys swinging and throwing rocks at manatees in the ocean. everyone knows monkeys hate manatees…. once a year manatees grow feet so they can mat. people do
I feel all tangled up in my thoughts and feelings; I can’t enjoy life. I get concerned about things I have no control over and get tangled up in them. I should fill my time with my aspirations and inspirations.
She stared at him wordlessly as he began to meticulously arrange the tangled strands of spaghetti, delicately unraveling them so they wouldn’t break and then placing them, side by side, completely straightened on his plate.
He kept jabbering endlessly about some subject or other, but she couldn’t concentrate. Like an idiot, she gaped wordlessly at him as he, uncaring of the marinara sauce staining his fingers, continued to play with the tangled spaghetti.
Oh yeah. This was the last time she would let her roommate set her up.
to tangle: possibly to twine, there is no twang, maybe some twisting. Who knows what this word means other than it could be violently fun.
ball of string that often times becomes tangled when you unravel and try to make things using it but loose track of time and end up putting the project on hold for a number of days and you move the ball, now unraveled, around the house and then end up picking it up later to finish the project but you forgot all the strings were not tightly rolled into a ball and so it becomes tangled.