the treads that hold my clothes together were not put there by me. they were put there by someone who will likely never get to wear the fruits of their labour. the price i paid for these clothes is not near the worth of the labour put into them.
everything’s hanging by a thread
if someone moves, it may break
if someone falls it’s my mistake
if we can’t make it, what will you say?
what will you do?
a thread. it’s so thin it’s hardly even there.
hanging by nothing, almost.
She came down the road in jeans with ripped threads woven back to place, rough openings showed her knees, scrapped and dirty, and she stuck her thumb up at me.
my mother sewed my dress up today. a beautiful red dress, brought especially for me to wear on special occasions. i hated it. i hated what it stood for and what it forced me to conform to. the thread woved together my attempts at its destruction. it seemed to mock me as it lept so easily through the cotton, mocking me as it effortlessly covered my pathetic attempts at independence.
There was a thread of fate, tying them together. Two people, lost in a world unfathomably large, had found each other, and they weren’t about to let that connection die out. So, they set out to do the unthinkable…
Yarn, a thread, a story, thread the pieces together. I like to thread things. Needle and thread. Thread this, thread that. Who needs a needle a thread. The thread. Thread is a weird word, a word indeed. I don’t like this word anymore.
A needle, a thread, a tiny shape that’s red, don’t think, don’t see just sit down on your knees. A thread is like bread, you only want it when something needs said. Thread, bread, red.
My Class Reunion has sparked a wonderful thread of conversation on Facebook. This memory lane stroll is mostly about reliving the music we grew up listening to in the 60’s and telling stories about the great bands we saw growing up. My first live performance was with the Rolling Stones, Jefferson Airplane with the first girl singer, not Grace Slick who came into the band later and the Standells, from Boston. It was in San Francisco and I was only 12. What an introduction to music 101.
thread
thread through
and again
weave
please
together and
pierce the
skin
cloth
fabric
weave us a gown
a
garment of
memories that you’ve
fit through your
pinhole
thread
please
together those
loose ends
we cannot see and
wrap us with them
so we may never
forget
a thin line moving toward a destination. connecting things, binding and rebinding them. bringing people together. increasing communication. visible or invisible. stretching across the earth, between hearts, in math equations, in dreams, in phones, in lives
Like the force running through the world a thread runs through a jersey. what is a thread? What is the jersey? Our quetions feul our need to dismantle and our folly is that that which is unraveled cannot be admired. I will wear rather my jersey think of it no more!
sewing, what can I make today? Threading it through the machine, hemming the pants that are too long, letting the hem out on pants because it was stylish to have them dragging on the ground. Loose thread, pull it and the button falls off.
I wish that I was a thread, lost amongst all the others. Hidden, amongst people the same. Not standing out or drawing attention to myself. A thread, blending into a sweater.
Two completely different personalities, yet they are so much alike. I see so much of myself within them, but then again, I see a lot of him too. I can only hope that they have taken the best of both of us. It amazes me that these two little bodies came from my body. Mine and his blood sewn together to create these magnificent creatures and it is their blood that holds the love that used to be. I have never known a stronger love than the love I have for my children.
we could tie our ship to the pier head with a golden thread and let it out as we travel out towards the mainland and the adventures we need to have and even though this heavy fog is hanging we will always be able to find our way home
Thread is a very thin version of a string. Sometimes, you get a loose thread when you snag your clothes. A conversation can also be called a thread. I have a loose thread on my shirt.
thread can be used in so many ways. to tie things together and connect them in ways that you cannot see unless looked through with a look glass. some people seem as if they are hanging on by a thread. its sad when i see someone that way. i feel as though i should help them and see if they are okay and what i can do for the.
webs for the unwary are cleverly fashioned out of threads of thought…
those despicable and crafty weavers like to play hookey with innocent
people’s lives. the awful truth is too many gullible folk are parading around in broad daylight all tangled up and everone sees it except themrselves
A spider’s thread. Almost invisible in it’s size. Stronger than you could ever imagine. This is the kind of thread that links her and I together, even through the distance.
Its like a thread going through a needle. Its hard and you can’t always get the thread through, the opening is small. The thread can pass through the needle but it doesn’t always stay, you have to tie a knot to keep it in place. Sometimes you get frustrated and poked. It hurts. Some times its worth it, what the thread can do with the needle.
thread is cool. its thin thread works for things like clothes what to say about thread i dont really kno can i have an easier one ugh okay times up bye.
Simplistic and seemingly unimportant, thread does so much more than we can know. Each strand of fiber forms tightly together to create something bigger than itself. Something beautiful. And it weaves a story to be seen by all of humanity.
Thread, a discussion, a peice of fabric coming from your shirt at a time when you SO don’t need it to, wish it would go away, the discussion like the thread sometimes difficult to find and follow…..
A thin line of string holding everything together. Bright colors making up a tapestry of life. An online forum. My Nana taught me how to peel the threads apart for the needle to more easily pass through the cross stitch pattern on the pillowcase. “A single thread in a tapestry..” song on Prince of Egypt.
thread is something thats tied to stuff, it holds things together, its also a term for stuff that has been reduced to thin bits and pieces, threads are also another term for internet topics at forums in websites.
Thread. Threads are a small thin sliver of what was. A piece fell of, or a piece stands alone. It’s almost a figment of what was once complete. It can represent the start or the end. Is the glass half full or half empty?
The thread of life weaves it’s way round us creating a quilt that expands the length of time. This thread is not one signular thread but many that are mean to create a variety of memories, loves, heartbreaks, sadness, and joys in our life that we experience all the time.
Thread was at first just something you’d get inconvientley dragging from your clothes, which would inevitably make a hole when you ripped it off, but now in the internet age we have forums, where threads grow ex
in and out goes the thread of time, weaving here and there to patch over the holes we wear in ourselves. the hurt and the anguish that we use to erode ourselves, mended as one mends a pair of jeans. How apt it is that the things we use the most are the ones most suited to be called after ourselves.
It’s a long time since I really talked a lot with a group of people. We started talking about burgers and ended up discussing physics and the masons. All that in 10 minutes!
This time, I think I’ll just stop and order a burger and eat silently.
she poked herself on the end of the thread, a tiny drip of blood forming at the tip of her left pointer finger. Putting the finger in her mouth, she continued on with her work.
It’s weird,
you know?
The way we’re all
connected.
A single being
from many smaller parts.
All stitched together
by one single
lengthy
unbreakable
thread.
Tying one to another.
You can’t escape.
But would you want to?
the treads that hold my clothes together were not put there by me. they were put there by someone who will likely never get to wear the fruits of their labour. the price i paid for these clothes is not near the worth of the labour put into them.
everything’s hanging by a thread
if someone moves, it may break
if someone falls it’s my mistake
if we can’t make it, what will you say?
what will you do?
a thread. it’s so thin it’s hardly even there.
hanging by nothing, almost.
She came down the road in jeans with ripped threads woven back to place, rough openings showed her knees, scrapped and dirty, and she stuck her thumb up at me.
my mother sewed my dress up today. a beautiful red dress, brought especially for me to wear on special occasions. i hated it. i hated what it stood for and what it forced me to conform to. the thread woved together my attempts at its destruction. it seemed to mock me as it lept so easily through the cotton, mocking me as it effortlessly covered my pathetic attempts at independence.
There was a thread of fate, tying them together. Two people, lost in a world unfathomably large, had found each other, and they weren’t about to let that connection die out. So, they set out to do the unthinkable…
Yarn, a thread, a story, thread the pieces together. I like to thread things. Needle and thread. Thread this, thread that. Who needs a needle a thread. The thread. Thread is a weird word, a word indeed. I don’t like this word anymore.
A needle, a thread, a tiny shape that’s red, don’t think, don’t see just sit down on your knees. A thread is like bread, you only want it when something needs said. Thread, bread, red.
My Class Reunion has sparked a wonderful thread of conversation on Facebook. This memory lane stroll is mostly about reliving the music we grew up listening to in the 60’s and telling stories about the great bands we saw growing up. My first live performance was with the Rolling Stones, Jefferson Airplane with the first girl singer, not Grace Slick who came into the band later and the Standells, from Boston. It was in San Francisco and I was only 12. What an introduction to music 101.
thread
thread through
and again
weave
please
together and
pierce the
skin
cloth
fabric
weave us a gown
a
garment of
memories that you’ve
fit through your
pinhole
thread
please
together those
loose ends
we cannot see and
wrap us with them
so we may never
forget
a thin line moving toward a destination. connecting things, binding and rebinding them. bringing people together. increasing communication. visible or invisible. stretching across the earth, between hearts, in math equations, in dreams, in phones, in lives
Like the force running through the world a thread runs through a jersey. what is a thread? What is the jersey? Our quetions feul our need to dismantle and our folly is that that which is unraveled cannot be admired. I will wear rather my jersey think of it no more!
sewing, what can I make today? Threading it through the machine, hemming the pants that are too long, letting the hem out on pants because it was stylish to have them dragging on the ground. Loose thread, pull it and the button falls off.
… and what about the ‘hollow of the dolls’ ? some quare mermaids there boy!
thread is a word i think i know its meaning, but to be honest i forgot its meaning!
I wish that I was a thread, lost amongst all the others. Hidden, amongst people the same. Not standing out or drawing attention to myself. A thread, blending into a sweater.
a link through tapestry
it ties everything together
one of them comes loose and everything unravels, as if it never was
soft sensuous lines… i say, beware of the weavers
Two completely different personalities, yet they are so much alike. I see so much of myself within them, but then again, I see a lot of him too. I can only hope that they have taken the best of both of us. It amazes me that these two little bodies came from my body. Mine and his blood sewn together to create these magnificent creatures and it is their blood that holds the love that used to be. I have never known a stronger love than the love I have for my children.
depend upon it..there will be no dearth of it throughout your life
we could tie our ship to the pier head with a golden thread and let it out as we travel out towards the mainland and the adventures we need to have and even though this heavy fog is hanging we will always be able to find our way home
Thread is a very thin version of a string. Sometimes, you get a loose thread when you snag your clothes. A conversation can also be called a thread. I have a loose thread on my shirt.
thread can be used in so many ways. to tie things together and connect them in ways that you cannot see unless looked through with a look glass. some people seem as if they are hanging on by a thread. its sad when i see someone that way. i feel as though i should help them and see if they are okay and what i can do for the.
webs for the unwary are cleverly fashioned out of threads of thought…
those despicable and crafty weavers like to play hookey with innocent
people’s lives. the awful truth is too many gullible folk are parading around in broad daylight all tangled up and everone sees it except themrselves
A spider’s thread. Almost invisible in it’s size. Stronger than you could ever imagine. This is the kind of thread that links her and I together, even through the distance.
Its like a thread going through a needle. Its hard and you can’t always get the thread through, the opening is small. The thread can pass through the needle but it doesn’t always stay, you have to tie a knot to keep it in place. Sometimes you get frustrated and poked. It hurts. Some times its worth it, what the thread can do with the needle.
thread is cool. its thin thread works for things like clothes what to say about thread i dont really kno can i have an easier one ugh okay times up bye.
Simplistic and seemingly unimportant, thread does so much more than we can know. Each strand of fiber forms tightly together to create something bigger than itself. Something beautiful. And it weaves a story to be seen by all of humanity.
thread. something that is bad. you wish you didn’t have to deal with it. and all you can think is about it and how it’s going to damage you. danger.
Thread, a discussion, a peice of fabric coming from your shirt at a time when you SO don’t need it to, wish it would go away, the discussion like the thread sometimes difficult to find and follow…..
A thin line of string holding everything together. Bright colors making up a tapestry of life. An online forum. My Nana taught me how to peel the threads apart for the needle to more easily pass through the cross stitch pattern on the pillowcase. “A single thread in a tapestry..” song on Prince of Egypt.
thread is something thats tied to stuff, it holds things together, its also a term for stuff that has been reduced to thin bits and pieces, threads are also another term for internet topics at forums in websites.
Thread. Threads are a small thin sliver of what was. A piece fell of, or a piece stands alone. It’s almost a figment of what was once complete. It can represent the start or the end. Is the glass half full or half empty?
The thread of life weaves it’s way round us creating a quilt that expands the length of time. This thread is not one signular thread but many that are mean to create a variety of memories, loves, heartbreaks, sadness, and joys in our life that we experience all the time.
thin string like substance used for swind and other things.
Thread was at first just something you’d get inconvientley dragging from your clothes, which would inevitably make a hole when you ripped it off, but now in the internet age we have forums, where threads grow ex
in and out goes the thread of time, weaving here and there to patch over the holes we wear in ourselves. the hurt and the anguish that we use to erode ourselves, mended as one mends a pair of jeans. How apt it is that the things we use the most are the ones most suited to be called after ourselves.
It’s a long time since I really talked a lot with a group of people. We started talking about burgers and ended up discussing physics and the masons. All that in 10 minutes!
This time, I think I’ll just stop and order a burger and eat silently.
she poked herself on the end of the thread, a tiny drip of blood forming at the tip of her left pointer finger. Putting the finger in her mouth, she continued on with her work.
thread