Under the tree, there was a tunnel. Follow the tunnel long enough, and it would soon get very hot. Yes, you guessed correct. Hell. Hell, or Under.
Under is frozen these days, and the tunnel has carved in.
I’ve already written about this word twice. I have beautiful flowing works under this word. I will not be doing it again. If this is what goes on my account, so be it. Just because I hadn’t logged in, I couldn’t keep my work. Don’t worry, I screencapped it all.
the table there was a black cat. it ate a rat and then ate a bat. it then grew wings and thought it could fly but fell on the mat. it was a very fat cat. it was Schrodinger’s cat. it died but stayed alive. howz that?
I was going under. I could feel it. I’d struggled for so long, and then been blessed by a too long, too brief period of respite from my own troubled thoughts. I knew it was only a matter of time before the happiness was exposed as a sham. I knew it would come to get me sooner or later. Too much time spent feeling positive, and the negativity comes back in full force. I was going under again, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
the table a snout, wet, and expectant inhales the scent of dinner. Saliva gently oozes from the side of his face, waiting, for a small morsel to leap from the table to the floor for consumption
Under the stars, everything felt a little insignificant. It’s that whole ‘vast expanse of the universe’ thing that people have a tendency to talk about. Usually, I find things like that to be utter bullshit, but I can’t deny that there was something special about looking up into that vast expanse of sparkly blackness. There’s something tingly about knowing that the light from those stars has been traveling for years and years and years just to reach earth. How could I help but get chills?
under the sun.
under the trees.
i lie with my eyes closed
and see the different shades of red
the wind blowing
moving the trees
different shades of colors
It was under the boardwalk, on a bright sunny day, that I first saw him. He was dressed in bright green bathing trucks, and his skin had the look of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun….a deep tan, with a permanent feeling.
I live under a bridge, like a monster. I don’t have hairy fur or anything, yet my coat is matted and my jeans are torn. It’s not like I had the option or that someone asked one day it I wanted this for my life, but I accepted it anyway.
Have you ever noticed that is almost always said as “over and under,” but never “under and over.” Same rules would seem to apply to phrases like, “this feeling that I’m under,” as opposed to “I’m under this feeling” or “I’m under that feeling.”
The order in which we express ourselves is understated, yet important. For instance, the way I feel about you is both absurd and obvious. But this is the important part! So commit it to memory now: how I feel is absurdly obvious, never obviously absurd.
“Hey honey, how tall is our mast? Oh, just 50 feet? Well, how tall is that causeway? Oh, 64 feet? Looks lower… Well, we should be safe….Uh-oh…look up! It looks so close! Will we be able to pass under it? Yikes!!!! Wow, what a rush that was, huh? Sailing is such an adventure! Where are we going next? Oh, the Keys? I’m ready, let’s go!”
“Hey honey, how tall is our mast? Oh, just 50 feet? Well, how tall is that causeway? Oh, 64 feet? Looks lower… Well, we should be safe….Uh-oh…look up! It looks so close! Will we be able to pass under it? Yikes!!!! Wow, what a rush that was, huh? Sailing is such and adventure! Where are we going next? Oh, the Keys? I’m ready, let’s go!”
Under the moon I’m free. Free to be whatever I want but mainly I’m just free. The feeling of nothing constraining me, judging me, holding me back is forever etched in my mind. The lady of the night illuminates my way and as I follow my own path I never regret the choices that I’ve made.
Under the bridge, under the swing, under the water, you left me drowning. Under grey skies, not always terrible, but so often what’s underneath is dark and damp and dangerous. As the song goes, beats spurring my feet onward in the darkness of the warehouse venue or on the asphalt..under the water, you left me drowning.
Under the shade of the old oak tree with my lady at my side. Life doesn’t get any better than this. Under it all is the overwhelming desire to kiss her.
Under the bed she was hiding. The flames engulfed the whole house as she hid there, terrified, terrified for her life and the life of her father and mother. Looking to the left, she saw a figure clad in black, only the figure’s boots, slowly step into the room. She screamed out to her father, but it was too late. He fell to the ground, dead.
He looked under the cabinets but there was nothing there. Boss was watching him. Of course it wasn’t there, Alex thought. This was a ruse. The real key is… He studied hard the clay floor in front of him, delving deep into the senses in the back of his mind. He sprang to his feet, striding over to the pantry and reaching into a sack of flour. In just a few seconds, his hand emerged with a small key covered in flour. “Well done.” Boss said. There was almost a smile on his face even.
I woke up under the table. The floor was cool on my cheek and there was a feeling of euphoria. It took a moment to shake the fog from my brain. What just happened? I rose on shaking legs.
have no monster under bed
always in the edge of the room
creeping in the wall
laying beside
embracing in the midnight
pouring down outside
holding hand in the pale gloom
vitrifying the heart
melting the tears
when cinderella lost her shoes
the child running from the echoes
denying the falling tears
hiding under the bed
becoming the monster of the bed
As we entered the house we saw a huge tree. Under the tree was a lounge chair with a small leg rest. It was the contemplating corner of the house. The oasis in the middle of chaos. The beauty was in the contrast.
under the world lie plates of glass which sparkle and talk to the creatures of the earth. No one holds your hand when you go there but they are kind anyway because the air itself is full of wishes and hopes.
Under and over the beat rolled around her, bending a belly and bouncing hips. She rose in time with the tempo and took her mood with her. Though the girl was hardy a dancer she could not deny the way music moved her.
Under, and above, below, underground, beneath, and under. Under and high, low, beyond, next to, alive, and under. Under and free, gentle, down, river, deep, and under. Under and life, death, on, off, breath, and under.
We are all born under, under the blood soaked covers, and reminded forever that we are under heaven, underneath the right to live that we have been given. We are underneath, and that is all we know.
Land down under. AUSTRALIA. I have always wondered what that country would be liked. I met a few travellers in vietnam from Aussie land. They seem pretty evolved as a country.
underneath the sea is a magical world fille with love, honor mermaids and everything you can imagine. the evil pompous looks down at us all, impossible to defeat. or is it? the question remains for Puyo to answer. It will take years but it should be worth it.
under, we go. Like a place, but not capitalized, because it’s no capital. Rather, it is the un-place. Place that we go when we’re not looking to be anywhere. When the thought of anywhere unsettles us, somewhat. There, under the table, under the earth, under the weather–but not sick, just under it. To that place where there is no pity, nor pride, and triumph and honor have no meaning. Rather, they are gaudy, useless things, under. Stupid things, because under, there are no eyes to witness victories. Only thought, and under standing.
Underneath all that is hidden inside, who are we? All that society has piled in on us has crushed us down to believe we aren’t special or perfect or even good enough. Under all of that, there is someone who wants one thing: freedom
Under my skin my sou shines like a star shining with the energy of sun. Under my soul I have my dreams, dreams which couldn`t come true. I spend my life for the shining dreams under my skin. And life goes on that way. But i understand that everyhing is not somewhere it can be anywhere just inside you.
Yesterday i was playing my game and i ran away from a person under a bridge
I went under the umbrella when it was raining, so I didn’t get wet.
Under the tree, there was a tunnel. Follow the tunnel long enough, and it would soon get very hot. Yes, you guessed correct. Hell. Hell, or Under.
Under is frozen these days, and the tunnel has carved in.
I am under the bridge
i went in the kitchen and i tryed to get the cookies but i didnt know were they were so i looked under the sink and there they were
The presents are under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. The bed is under the blanket in my room. The roof is under the sky.
under the house of mr. bubba lies a life time supplie of video games
i am under the couch eating hot cetteoes!
Ddhhcjd
I’ve already written about this word twice. I have beautiful flowing works under this word. I will not be doing it again. If this is what goes on my account, so be it. Just because I hadn’t logged in, I couldn’t keep my work. Don’t worry, I screencapped it all.
He sits under the tree that has followed the path of his life. His first fall, cut, kiss, love, heartbreak, all under this tree.
the table there was a black cat. it ate a rat and then ate a bat. it then grew wings and thought it could fly but fell on the mat. it was a very fat cat. it was Schrodinger’s cat. it died but stayed alive. howz that?
I was going under. I could feel it. I’d struggled for so long, and then been blessed by a too long, too brief period of respite from my own troubled thoughts. I knew it was only a matter of time before the happiness was exposed as a sham. I knew it would come to get me sooner or later. Too much time spent feeling positive, and the negativity comes back in full force. I was going under again, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
the table a snout, wet, and expectant inhales the scent of dinner. Saliva gently oozes from the side of his face, waiting, for a small morsel to leap from the table to the floor for consumption
Under the stars, everything felt a little insignificant. It’s that whole ‘vast expanse of the universe’ thing that people have a tendency to talk about. Usually, I find things like that to be utter bullshit, but I can’t deny that there was something special about looking up into that vast expanse of sparkly blackness. There’s something tingly about knowing that the light from those stars has been traveling for years and years and years just to reach earth. How could I help but get chills?
under the sun.
under the trees.
i lie with my eyes closed
and see the different shades of red
the wind blowing
moving the trees
different shades of colors
It was under the boardwalk, on a bright sunny day, that I first saw him. He was dressed in bright green bathing trucks, and his skin had the look of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun….a deep tan, with a permanent feeling.
I live under a bridge, like a monster. I don’t have hairy fur or anything, yet my coat is matted and my jeans are torn. It’s not like I had the option or that someone asked one day it I wanted this for my life, but I accepted it anyway.
Have you ever noticed that is almost always said as “over and under,” but never “under and over.” Same rules would seem to apply to phrases like, “this feeling that I’m under,” as opposed to “I’m under this feeling” or “I’m under that feeling.”
The order in which we express ourselves is understated, yet important. For instance, the way I feel about you is both absurd and obvious. But this is the important part! So commit it to memory now: how I feel is absurdly obvious, never obviously absurd.
“Hey honey, how tall is our mast? Oh, just 50 feet? Well, how tall is that causeway? Oh, 64 feet? Looks lower… Well, we should be safe….Uh-oh…look up! It looks so close! Will we be able to pass under it? Yikes!!!! Wow, what a rush that was, huh? Sailing is such an adventure! Where are we going next? Oh, the Keys? I’m ready, let’s go!”
“Hey honey, how tall is our mast? Oh, just 50 feet? Well, how tall is that causeway? Oh, 64 feet? Looks lower… Well, we should be safe….Uh-oh…look up! It looks so close! Will we be able to pass under it? Yikes!!!! Wow, what a rush that was, huh? Sailing is such and adventure! Where are we going next? Oh, the Keys? I’m ready, let’s go!”
Under the moon I’m free. Free to be whatever I want but mainly I’m just free. The feeling of nothing constraining me, judging me, holding me back is forever etched in my mind. The lady of the night illuminates my way and as I follow my own path I never regret the choices that I’ve made.
Under the bridge, under the swing, under the water, you left me drowning. Under grey skies, not always terrible, but so often what’s underneath is dark and damp and dangerous. As the song goes, beats spurring my feet onward in the darkness of the warehouse venue or on the asphalt..under the water, you left me drowning.
Under the shade of the old oak tree with my lady at my side. Life doesn’t get any better than this. Under it all is the overwhelming desire to kiss her.
Under the bed she was hiding. The flames engulfed the whole house as she hid there, terrified, terrified for her life and the life of her father and mother. Looking to the left, she saw a figure clad in black, only the figure’s boots, slowly step into the room. She screamed out to her father, but it was too late. He fell to the ground, dead.
I’ve always thought being an undercover cop was cool. Dangerous yes, but a real bad-ass
He looked under the cabinets but there was nothing there. Boss was watching him. Of course it wasn’t there, Alex thought. This was a ruse. The real key is… He studied hard the clay floor in front of him, delving deep into the senses in the back of his mind. He sprang to his feet, striding over to the pantry and reaching into a sack of flour. In just a few seconds, his hand emerged with a small key covered in flour. “Well done.” Boss said. There was almost a smile on his face even.
I woke up under the table. The floor was cool on my cheek and there was a feeling of euphoria. It took a moment to shake the fog from my brain. What just happened? I rose on shaking legs.
have no monster under bed
always in the edge of the room
creeping in the wall
laying beside
embracing in the midnight
pouring down outside
holding hand in the pale gloom
vitrifying the heart
melting the tears
when cinderella lost her shoes
the child running from the echoes
denying the falling tears
hiding under the bed
becoming the monster of the bed
Under the bed was a bouquet of flowers left for her to find as she was looking for her shoes.
As we entered the house we saw a huge tree. Under the tree was a lounge chair with a small leg rest. It was the contemplating corner of the house. The oasis in the middle of chaos. The beauty was in the contrast.
under the world lie plates of glass which sparkle and talk to the creatures of the earth. No one holds your hand when you go there but they are kind anyway because the air itself is full of wishes and hopes.
Under and over the beat rolled around her, bending a belly and bouncing hips. She rose in time with the tempo and took her mood with her. Though the girl was hardy a dancer she could not deny the way music moved her.
Under, and above, below, underground, beneath, and under. Under and high, low, beyond, next to, alive, and under. Under and free, gentle, down, river, deep, and under. Under and life, death, on, off, breath, and under.
We are all born under, under the blood soaked covers, and reminded forever that we are under heaven, underneath the right to live that we have been given. We are underneath, and that is all we know.
Land down under. AUSTRALIA. I have always wondered what that country would be liked. I met a few travellers in vietnam from Aussie land. They seem pretty evolved as a country.
underneath the sea is a magical world fille with love, honor mermaids and everything you can imagine. the evil pompous looks down at us all, impossible to defeat. or is it? the question remains for Puyo to answer. It will take years but it should be worth it.
under, we go. Like a place, but not capitalized, because it’s no capital. Rather, it is the un-place. Place that we go when we’re not looking to be anywhere. When the thought of anywhere unsettles us, somewhat. There, under the table, under the earth, under the weather–but not sick, just under it. To that place where there is no pity, nor pride, and triumph and honor have no meaning. Rather, they are gaudy, useless things, under. Stupid things, because under, there are no eyes to witness victories. Only thought, and under standing.
Underneath all that is hidden inside, who are we? All that society has piled in on us has crushed us down to believe we aren’t special or perfect or even good enough. Under all of that, there is someone who wants one thing: freedom
Under my skin my sou shines like a star shining with the energy of sun. Under my soul I have my dreams, dreams which couldn`t come true. I spend my life for the shining dreams under my skin. And life goes on that way. But i understand that everyhing is not somewhere it can be anywhere just inside you.