My thoughts are straight and one-tracked at best, there is no room for multiple attentions. They thread straight and serenely, and yet loop and knot impossibly. Flowing in all the colors of the world, and yet in only one color at a time.
Thread.
It holds the world together,
It connects every living being, every soul.
Every being is connected, through better or worse.
It doesn’t matter how strong the tread is, because we all work on holding it together.
We are the thread that holds each other together.
Because without one another, we’d all just fall apart.
I had been sitting at that spot for three hours. The thoughts of suicide beginning to thread its way through my head. I want to die. I want to be with you. I don’t want to sit and look at your headstone, missing you anymore. I’m tired of the pain….
threads make up shirts and shirts people wear including myself….hopefully ;) i never actually think about what ,y shirt is made of but i love shirts becasue i tt i feel resoectedhink when i get a new shir
Thread. It was what I twirled in my finger as I stared into the face of my brand new daughter. A shiny, silky looking pink thread that had detached itself from the blanket they wrapped around her. It matched the pink, silk-like cheeks of her face.
Threads make many things, like t-shirts and bags. They also can be used to entertain small children and cats and other small animals. Thread can be made of cotton or other synthetic materials, and plays a vital, yet overlooked role in day to day life.
Thread. The little tiny piece of warped thoughts and fragile emotions holding together all aspects of our pathetic little lives. Sitting there, mocking us, telling us that by one slip, we could sever this all-important thread and end it all.
Thread pulled by a needle, creating dresses, tablecloths, pants, love. Running through the seams, in and out. Creation bursts into life from a single thread. Life raveling and then unraveling with the thread. Thread, thin, sometimes colorless and other times bursting with color. Buttons and thimbles and needles given purpose and life with thread. Thread and needle in the hand of a sower creating, and sometimes destroying to create again. Soft thread, so easily lost, and licked to fit through the eye of the needle.
I looked at the pale grey thread in my hand. It was so thin, but when it wrapped around my white fingers it cut deep into my flesh painfully. How could something so modest be so strong? It was stronger than me, that’s for sure.
i have a thread in my clothing. it is long. some people rip them out or cut them off. but they make up your clothes so you should keep them. i like them but sometimes they are annoying. people should make clothing a different way so they dont always hang down and get in the way.
thread can be used for many things–putting things together, and also repairing them. it’s one of the most useful objects in the world, but many people overlook its usefulness.
I followed the thread on facebook which lead me to his page. I couldn’t really help but stop and facebook stalk him for a few minutes, afterwhich i felt extremely creepy and wished i hadn’t. I stared at his profile picture for a few more seconds and quickly became depressed because i didnt know him and he didn’t know me…
It was written in the story. “She was the scissors. And she thought she was the thread.” This sentence really moved me. It shows how we always think it’s not up to us. But it is. Cut. Snap.
Scissors.
Just a shred of a thought, in the woven tapestry that is life. I wonder what we could make it into had we forethought and peace in our existence. Something beautiful to be shared, that would be my greatest hope. Yes. Beautiful. From just a thread…it is possible. I think it must be possible
Life is sometimes like a fragile, tiny string of thread. It is often taken for granted, discarded, and broken. But we all realize that it’s something to be thankful for.
that’s the way i used to be. just thread. until i unwraveled. i like to think it was all a blessing to unravel like thread. that’s funny, i finally learned how to spell unravel. i think that’s a good sign. like i’m ok with not being perfect. haha, another way that i’ve learned to unravel. I don’t need thread at the moment. I’m okay without it. When i used to sew a lot, i loved the thread box, it was so invigorating and I would be
it was the beginning of the end, the thread was unwinding. and that was the amazing thing about a thread, it was made up of so many different fibres woven into many different threads, into one grand one… and it was unraveling in front of her eyes. how would she stop it? she knew she couldn’t and she shouldn’t. it was over.
He was hanging on by a thread. A small, skinny, barely visible, thread that was losing strength rapidly. As he was flung and hurled into different conflicts, the thread weakened. When the thread broke, he broke as well.
our clothes are made of threads. millions and millions of threads. it’s somewhat unbelievable just how much thread must be used per day. amazing how it takes many threads to create something of worth but only ONE to rip something apart. but isn’t that a little bit like life. we can build it up for years and years but look at how such a small event or thing can trigger it to completely fall apart.. food for thought
When I think of thread, I think of all the beautiful quilts my great-grandmothers made. We used these quilts when taking naps during the summer time – and often one of us grandkids would wet the bed on these beautiful quilts. We just did not know how special these quilts would become.
A single thread hung down from her shirt. It bobbed along as she talked. She didn’t seem much like Little Home on the Prarie from hell now, more like a very time confused math teacher.
Upon noticing it, she pulled at the thread vigorously. To the best of her knowledge, she’d never experienced this particular scarf having a problem with loose threads. Nevertheless, there she sat, shrouded in the white-and-yellow fabric, tugging on the loose thread that had suddenly appeared.
one thread. a thread that you interweave with other threads that make up a huge tapestry. I want a sweater. Is it so bad that I want to wear sweaters in the middle of summer while the low outside is 90? Is that so bad? Is thread bad? That is this thread going to link to? Internet thread? The government is watching and reading everything I write. How creepy. Guess I don’t stop because there is no getting away.
thread is the thing that holds the world together. you can follow a thread to its origin. you take out one thread and the whole shirt or blanket or whatever will unravel. One thread makes a world of difference. small but powerful.
thread away little child the world is no longer on your linear string. from point a to b it’s just you and me and everything in between. fear not the knots
Thread, it seems to come in handy when were at our worse; when we’ve unraveled our ends and shredded our closest(s) and broken our buttons. But it always seems to tie us together.
I used to have a sewing machine. My grandmother gave it to me for Christmas. I didn’t really use it. She wanted me to learn how to sew and I was too caught up daily nonsense of a 12 year old to realize. I could have done something with her and for her. But didn’t. I barely know how to sew a button now.
Funny, that this is the word tonight. I just had an argument with my other half and the topic was that I feel as if our relationship is hanging by a thread. I came here to vent my frustration and hoped to have a word that would inspire me to do so. How appropriate.
I saw the thread hanging from her shirt. She carelessly picked it off and threw it on the ground. I watched as it floated to the ground. I had the strange sensation that someday I would be the thread sticking out of cashmere sweater, plucked off casually and left to fall for and eternity to the ground.
I thread my fingers through yours, keeping your hand clenched in mine, too scared to let go, afraid of what is out in the dark, terrified, sweaty, running from the low hissing noise…. BAM
Thread is used to sew things together. It comes in tons of colours. it is awesommmmme
Yeah dunno. Uh it’s really thin and it’s like braided I think. I really don’t know.
UMMMMMM… Yeah it’s pretty handy I guess if you know how to sew
Pretty awesome. Yuppers. You can buy it at stores. Pretty cheap crap I think.
People collect it I think. maybe not I don’t actually know.
Yeah so thread. T-H-R-E-A-D
its crazy how thread can seem to go on forever whether you’re fixing some pants or knitting something, or using it for other miscellaneous projects. it comes in different colours and can make pretty designs on random pieces of fabric. if i could i would want a certain type of thread to be named after me so i can be a part of others people lives.
Sticky ends that tie us togeather, no glue no tape, no staples just thread. Thread the loose ends of life and find youself strung on a thimble and needle, sewing machine or tee shirt. BE THE THREAD! OH YEAH BABY!
The little thread pokes out from my pants. I have leaarned in the past that sometimes when you pull that thread it undoes the seam and now your pants have a big hole in them. other times it is not attched to anything just a little thread. Our lives our like that
It holds things together. It comes undone. Sometimes it’s the right color. Sometimes it’s not. Knot.
My thoughts are straight and one-tracked at best, there is no room for multiple attentions. They thread straight and serenely, and yet loop and knot impossibly. Flowing in all the colors of the world, and yet in only one color at a time.
Thread.
It holds the world together,
It connects every living being, every soul.
Every being is connected, through better or worse.
It doesn’t matter how strong the tread is, because we all work on holding it together.
We are the thread that holds each other together.
Because without one another, we’d all just fall apart.
I had been sitting at that spot for three hours. The thoughts of suicide beginning to thread its way through my head. I want to die. I want to be with you. I don’t want to sit and look at your headstone, missing you anymore. I’m tired of the pain….
threads make up shirts and shirts people wear including myself….hopefully ;) i never actually think about what ,y shirt is made of but i love shirts becasue i tt i feel resoectedhink when i get a new shir
Thread. It was what I twirled in my finger as I stared into the face of my brand new daughter. A shiny, silky looking pink thread that had detached itself from the blanket they wrapped around her. It matched the pink, silk-like cheeks of her face.
Threads make many things, like t-shirts and bags. They also can be used to entertain small children and cats and other small animals. Thread can be made of cotton or other synthetic materials, and plays a vital, yet overlooked role in day to day life.
Thread. The little tiny piece of warped thoughts and fragile emotions holding together all aspects of our pathetic little lives. Sitting there, mocking us, telling us that by one slip, we could sever this all-important thread and end it all.
Everything is connected. To think we can break apart from the thread is nonsense. Have the courage to have the responsibility to act as if you know.
Thread pulled by a needle, creating dresses, tablecloths, pants, love. Running through the seams, in and out. Creation bursts into life from a single thread. Life raveling and then unraveling with the thread. Thread, thin, sometimes colorless and other times bursting with color. Buttons and thimbles and needles given purpose and life with thread. Thread and needle in the hand of a sower creating, and sometimes destroying to create again. Soft thread, so easily lost, and licked to fit through the eye of the needle.
I looked at the pale grey thread in my hand. It was so thin, but when it wrapped around my white fingers it cut deep into my flesh painfully. How could something so modest be so strong? It was stronger than me, that’s for sure.
i have a thread in my clothing. it is long. some people rip them out or cut them off. but they make up your clothes so you should keep them. i like them but sometimes they are annoying. people should make clothing a different way so they dont always hang down and get in the way.
thread can be used for many things–putting things together, and also repairing them. it’s one of the most useful objects in the world, but many people overlook its usefulness.
I followed the thread on facebook which lead me to his page. I couldn’t really help but stop and facebook stalk him for a few minutes, afterwhich i felt extremely creepy and wished i hadn’t. I stared at his profile picture for a few more seconds and quickly became depressed because i didnt know him and he didn’t know me…
It was written in the story. “She was the scissors. And she thought she was the thread.” This sentence really moved me. It shows how we always think it’s not up to us. But it is. Cut. Snap.
Scissors.
Just a shred of a thought, in the woven tapestry that is life. I wonder what we could make it into had we forethought and peace in our existence. Something beautiful to be shared, that would be my greatest hope. Yes. Beautiful. From just a thread…it is possible. I think it must be possible
Life is sometimes like a fragile, tiny string of thread. It is often taken for granted, discarded, and broken. But we all realize that it’s something to be thankful for.
that’s the way i used to be. just thread. until i unwraveled. i like to think it was all a blessing to unravel like thread. that’s funny, i finally learned how to spell unravel. i think that’s a good sign. like i’m ok with not being perfect. haha, another way that i’ve learned to unravel. I don’t need thread at the moment. I’m okay without it. When i used to sew a lot, i loved the thread box, it was so invigorating and I would be
it was the beginning of the end, the thread was unwinding. and that was the amazing thing about a thread, it was made up of so many different fibres woven into many different threads, into one grand one… and it was unraveling in front of her eyes. how would she stop it? she knew she couldn’t and she shouldn’t. it was over.
He was hanging on by a thread. A small, skinny, barely visible, thread that was losing strength rapidly. As he was flung and hurled into different conflicts, the thread weakened. When the thread broke, he broke as well.
The thread annoyed me by not going into the eye of the needle.
our clothes are made of threads. millions and millions of threads. it’s somewhat unbelievable just how much thread must be used per day. amazing how it takes many threads to create something of worth but only ONE to rip something apart. but isn’t that a little bit like life. we can build it up for years and years but look at how such a small event or thing can trigger it to completely fall apart.. food for thought
When I think of thread, I think of all the beautiful quilts my great-grandmothers made. We used these quilts when taking naps during the summer time – and often one of us grandkids would wet the bed on these beautiful quilts. We just did not know how special these quilts would become.
The thread laid on the floor, taunting the kitten. So stringy and curvy and rich in color. The kitten attacks!
A single thread hung down from her shirt. It bobbed along as she talked. She didn’t seem much like Little Home on the Prarie from hell now, more like a very time confused math teacher.
someone said to me that nothing will happen, but I knew I would die tonight. I´ve should not heard those words.
Upon noticing it, she pulled at the thread vigorously. To the best of her knowledge, she’d never experienced this particular scarf having a problem with loose threads. Nevertheless, there she sat, shrouded in the white-and-yellow fabric, tugging on the loose thread that had suddenly appeared.
one thread. a thread that you interweave with other threads that make up a huge tapestry. I want a sweater. Is it so bad that I want to wear sweaters in the middle of summer while the low outside is 90? Is that so bad? Is thread bad? That is this thread going to link to? Internet thread? The government is watching and reading everything I write. How creepy. Guess I don’t stop because there is no getting away.
thread is the thing that holds the world together. you can follow a thread to its origin. you take out one thread and the whole shirt or blanket or whatever will unravel. One thread makes a world of difference. small but powerful.
thread away little child the world is no longer on your linear string. from point a to b it’s just you and me and everything in between. fear not the knots
Thread, it seems to come in handy when were at our worse; when we’ve unraveled our ends and shredded our closest(s) and broken our buttons. But it always seems to tie us together.
I used to have a sewing machine. My grandmother gave it to me for Christmas. I didn’t really use it. She wanted me to learn how to sew and I was too caught up daily nonsense of a 12 year old to realize. I could have done something with her and for her. But didn’t. I barely know how to sew a button now.
Funny, that this is the word tonight. I just had an argument with my other half and the topic was that I feel as if our relationship is hanging by a thread. I came here to vent my frustration and hoped to have a word that would inspire me to do so. How appropriate.
thread lead from the tip of a dead tree, words like fleas jumping from sentences, meshing like line of a bad fisherman on a windy day
I saw the thread hanging from her shirt. She carelessly picked it off and threw it on the ground. I watched as it floated to the ground. I had the strange sensation that someday I would be the thread sticking out of cashmere sweater, plucked off casually and left to fall for and eternity to the ground.
I thread my fingers through yours, keeping your hand clenched in mine, too scared to let go, afraid of what is out in the dark, terrified, sweaty, running from the low hissing noise…. BAM
Thread is used to sew things together. It comes in tons of colours. it is awesommmmme
Yeah dunno. Uh it’s really thin and it’s like braided I think. I really don’t know.
UMMMMMM… Yeah it’s pretty handy I guess if you know how to sew
Pretty awesome. Yuppers. You can buy it at stores. Pretty cheap crap I think.
People collect it I think. maybe not I don’t actually know.
Yeah so thread. T-H-R-E-A-D
its crazy how thread can seem to go on forever whether you’re fixing some pants or knitting something, or using it for other miscellaneous projects. it comes in different colours and can make pretty designs on random pieces of fabric. if i could i would want a certain type of thread to be named after me so i can be a part of others people lives.
Thread…
Sticky ends that tie us togeather, no glue no tape, no staples just thread. Thread the loose ends of life and find youself strung on a thimble and needle, sewing machine or tee shirt. BE THE THREAD! OH YEAH BABY!
The little thread pokes out from my pants. I have leaarned in the past that sometimes when you pull that thread it undoes the seam and now your pants have a big hole in them. other times it is not attched to anything just a little thread. Our lives our like that