Things get dirty. It’s a common fact in life that if something is used, it is dirty, and will need to be washed. Some prefer it never get dirty in the first place. Others like never washing it. But to keep in clean would mean it would have no wear, no individuality. But to leave it dirty would cause it to break apart. A balance is required.
the woman stood at the counter, her hands all covered in soap from the dishes she had been doing for twenty years. she looked at the sky wanting to go on like she had plan ever since she was a child.
“If you don’t get the dirt from under your fingernails I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap!” Mother always had a way with threatening us to do what we were told, she never took a simple “No,” as an answer to her questions and she was always quick to quell any witty remarks with her famous death glare.
If I go wash my hands, they’ll be clean. That’s the point right? But if you look beyond the surface, into the invisible, nothing is clean at all. You can’t deny, it still clings to you, what you’ve done, where you’ve been.
Wash. Wash yourself clean. I’ve made a few mistakes in life, and I’ve hurt a few people. Is there anything I can do to wash that stuff away? I ever intend to hurt people, but that’s the price you pay for living by your own rules. You never know what the consequences are going to be.
I look out the window at the rain pouring down from the sky. My grandmother hums softly to herself as she washes the dishes after dinner. Everything is at peace. Everything, that is, except my brother, who I haven’t seen in five years today.
he wanted to ask her if she would have a sexual affair with him.just let their feelings and longings for each other wash over them like a strong summer rain…
She liked the rain, the way it would pour down, dark and heavy and wet, and wash everything that it touched. She liked the way that it swept away the dirt and the mud and the stains and left the world clean and bright and alive again. It washed away the impurities of the world and the splotches of the people gone bad and cleansed everything it would touch.
The old woman took the few linens she had left to wash out to the line to dry. She missed the days when her husband, Herbert would help her do the laundry but even then it took them twice the amount of time to finish.
Washed out. Awesome band. Has this one trippy song that defines my senior year. Take it all in kind of song. Standing by the shore kind of song. Awesome kind of song. Feel it all around -> go listen.
laundry. i hate laundry. everyday its the same thing and everyday there are more clothes then i can possibly fathom and i cant stant that im the only one to do it all. and above all i hate socks that never ever have a match.
She looked washed away, and here eyes told me that nothing mattered. And there was this haunting fear that nothing would ever matter to her again. Everything was washed out: her hair, her face, even her clothes. She looked faded and utterly gone.
Wash away my pain with your soft sentiments and noble values. I’ll bask in the hot shower of hope as long as the water’s running. But of course one day this too will end and I’ll only get dirty again.
I ran the washcloth along my arm as I mused, washing away the drawings that Kamaru had scribbled all over me. I smiled when I saw the poorly done heart and smilies.
i went to put my clothes in for a wash at the laundromat. it was nice there; it smelled like detergent and baking soda and peeling ceramic tiles. i met my last boyfriend at a laundromat, but not this one.
i wash my hair everyday when i wash my ahir it cleanse my hair.
i like to wash everyday, sometimes i do it escape from life
because it just me and myself and no one else
I like to was
you washed the laundry,
wrung out the dirt.
scrubbed and scrubbed,
but you still don’t feel worth.
you still feel unclean,
what would it take to wash out the wrongs
I just washed my hair. And it’s really smooth and clean which is cool. But I’m thinking of putting dreadlocks in. So its a bit too smooth. It’s making things a bit difficult.
As I sit to write this, I am all clean and washed from a shower. Without the power of water and soap, a person would be nothing more than dirt and smells.
She turned the rusted unclean knob of the sink, and cold water sporatically poured out. She look at her self in the mirror, then back to her hands. As she set her hands under the water, she saw the blood start to wash off. The memories of her life before today swirled down the drain in the gas station bathroom. She tried to picture who she was before this, but all she could do was scrub.
she was outside washing the clothes when a stark-yellow jeep showed up. aunitie emma! her loudly dressed aunt got out and swept her up in a hug. darlin’, she said breathlessly. have i got a story for you!
the car was dirty. I drove it in. Paid my money. Swish swash swish swash. The spraying hit the windshield, the windows, the mud flew off. I smiled. Happily knew i has done the right thing, i had put it off long enough, my car was happy.
the mechanical waterfall washed over the hard plastic of the dogs drinking bowl. I thought it was a good way to get negative ions in the air and make sure my pups have freash drinking water.
He gently cleaned the wonds with the getility of a lover. Ezio hissed and clenched his fist in the sheets as Leonardo struggled not to cry as images of the man he loved stumbling through the window, on the verge of bleeding out, flashed through his mind.
Wash. Rein rein, sauber, clean, alles wegwaschen, solange bis nichts mehr übrig ist von dem ganzen Dreck und Schleim, von Bakterien und Rost, Ekel und Schmand, alles muss wieder glänzen und spiegeln.
I wash the porcelain, scrubbing it hard, just to put it in the dishwasher anyway. It’s not that I’m OCD, really. I just don’t trust any machine.
Things get dirty. It’s a common fact in life that if something is used, it is dirty, and will need to be washed. Some prefer it never get dirty in the first place. Others like never washing it. But to keep in clean would mean it would have no wear, no individuality. But to leave it dirty would cause it to break apart. A balance is required.
ing machine, to wash away emotions, not to clean but to clear the surface almost? bubbles, subs, foamy mess, the waves pulling away from the shore.
the woman stood at the counter, her hands all covered in soap from the dishes she had been doing for twenty years. she looked at the sky wanting to go on like she had plan ever since she was a child.
“If you don’t get the dirt from under your fingernails I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap!” Mother always had a way with threatening us to do what we were told, she never took a simple “No,” as an answer to her questions and she was always quick to quell any witty remarks with her famous death glare.
She washed her hands over and over, trying to get rid of the metallic smell. Blood, so much blood …
If I go wash my hands, they’ll be clean. That’s the point right? But if you look beyond the surface, into the invisible, nothing is clean at all. You can’t deny, it still clings to you, what you’ve done, where you’ve been.
Wash. Wash yourself clean. I’ve made a few mistakes in life, and I’ve hurt a few people. Is there anything I can do to wash that stuff away? I ever intend to hurt people, but that’s the price you pay for living by your own rules. You never know what the consequences are going to be.
I look out the window at the rain pouring down from the sky. My grandmother hums softly to herself as she washes the dishes after dinner. Everything is at peace. Everything, that is, except my brother, who I haven’t seen in five years today.
he wanted to ask her if she would have a sexual affair with him.just let their feelings and longings for each other wash over them like a strong summer rain…
She liked the rain, the way it would pour down, dark and heavy and wet, and wash everything that it touched. She liked the way that it swept away the dirt and the mud and the stains and left the world clean and bright and alive again. It washed away the impurities of the world and the splotches of the people gone bad and cleansed everything it would touch.
It cleansed her.
wash me clean
clean me dirty
with white water
and pink bubbles
there’s no sting
open eyes
pour me over
down the drain
The old woman took the few linens she had left to wash out to the line to dry. She missed the days when her husband, Herbert would help her do the laundry but even then it took them twice the amount of time to finish.
I washed the windows with extra care. But I still cannot see the sky. It is all blurry with soap and dirt. I can dimly see the blue sky.
Washed out. Awesome band. Has this one trippy song that defines my senior year. Take it all in kind of song. Standing by the shore kind of song. Awesome kind of song. Feel it all around -> go listen.
Wash the dishes
Wash the laundry
Wash your hair, your face, your toes
Wash everything for
Everything has to be sparkling clean
laundry. i hate laundry. everyday its the same thing and everyday there are more clothes then i can possibly fathom and i cant stant that im the only one to do it all. and above all i hate socks that never ever have a match.
She looked washed away, and here eyes told me that nothing mattered. And there was this haunting fear that nothing would ever matter to her again. Everything was washed out: her hair, her face, even her clothes. She looked faded and utterly gone.
Wash away my pain with your soft sentiments and noble values. I’ll bask in the hot shower of hope as long as the water’s running. But of course one day this too will end and I’ll only get dirty again.
I ran the washcloth along my arm as I mused, washing away the drawings that Kamaru had scribbled all over me. I smiled when I saw the poorly done heart and smilies.
i went to put my clothes in for a wash at the laundromat. it was nice there; it smelled like detergent and baking soda and peeling ceramic tiles. i met my last boyfriend at a laundromat, but not this one.
If only these tears could wash away the pain that I feel.
If they could wash away my past and help me forget.
I would …. could live on.
i have a lot of salt in my eyes.
i tried to wash my eyes out on the sea bed but lost my line of site when the wake fell through the surface.
i wash my hair everyday when i wash my ahir it cleanse my hair.
i like to wash everyday, sometimes i do it escape from life
because it just me and myself and no one else
I like to was
Letting it spill over the sink, I wash the purple hue out of my hair, finally coming to terms with my adulthood.
you washed the laundry,
wrung out the dirt.
scrubbed and scrubbed,
but you still don’t feel worth.
you still feel unclean,
what would it take to wash out the wrongs
I just washed my hair. And it’s really smooth and clean which is cool. But I’m thinking of putting dreadlocks in. So its a bit too smooth. It’s making things a bit difficult.
As I sit to write this, I am all clean and washed from a shower. Without the power of water and soap, a person would be nothing more than dirt and smells.
WASH! Wish wash splash splish splush! Water… splishing and splashing! Splosh! It’s all clean now!
The first thing that came to my mind for some reason was towel… even though that’s about the opposite of wash… yeah
My grandmother washed her clothes outdoors. Wash tub. Clothes line. Missouri before the War. LIfe during the Depression. She says “warsh.”
She turned the rusted unclean knob of the sink, and cold water sporatically poured out. She look at her self in the mirror, then back to her hands. As she set her hands under the water, she saw the blood start to wash off. The memories of her life before today swirled down the drain in the gas station bathroom. She tried to picture who she was before this, but all she could do was scrub.
There is nothing so soothing than watching your socks, your shirts, your sweaters, rough-and-tumble in the wash amongst water and the smell of clean.
she was outside washing the clothes when a stark-yellow jeep showed up. aunitie emma! her loudly dressed aunt got out and swept her up in a hug. darlin’, she said breathlessly. have i got a story for you!
the car was dirty. I drove it in. Paid my money. Swish swash swish swash. The spraying hit the windshield, the windows, the mud flew off. I smiled. Happily knew i has done the right thing, i had put it off long enough, my car was happy.
the mechanical waterfall washed over the hard plastic of the dogs drinking bowl. I thought it was a good way to get negative ions in the air and make sure my pups have freash drinking water.
He gently cleaned the wonds with the getility of a lover. Ezio hissed and clenched his fist in the sheets as Leonardo struggled not to cry as images of the man he loved stumbling through the window, on the verge of bleeding out, flashed through his mind.
Wash. Rein rein, sauber, clean, alles wegwaschen, solange bis nichts mehr übrig ist von dem ganzen Dreck und Schleim, von Bakterien und Rost, Ekel und Schmand, alles muss wieder glänzen und spiegeln.
The woman turned around suddenly, aghast and horrified. “I should wash out your mouth for using that sort of language”, she told him.
Let me wash away all your fears
with all my tears
as I hold you in my arms.
Think nothing of the darkness,
for light is all that matters.