I had to give it to him. I was really interested. I never would have thought that I would ever be interested in a guy like him but there I was… very interested. I was interested in the way his hair moved when he talked, the way his eyes lit up when he got excited about… well anything really. I was interested
I was so interested to hear how her story ended. Still I never wanted it to come to a close. I had put too much into it for that hole in my life to be left completely open. I suppose everything has to end. That’s just the way it is.
Interested? I’m not interested. NO. No thank you! Honey, don’t do that! Leave the truck on the floor. What? No, not to you. . . look I don’t need lingerie! I just had a baby. . . and whatever. . . leave it. Oh darling, Daddy’s not here. No he isn’t coming home.
Well…. he look interested, but obviously was not. How could he live the store without even picking it up? Maybe she should have looked into stronger spells…. Next time she’ll get him!
i haven’t been very interested in me lately. my life has been a sort of blur. time seems to move so fast and so utterly slow at the same time. hours take minutes and minutes take days.
I am interested in so many things that I don’t have time for them all. Maybe I’ll forget about the housework and gardening and eat prepared meals instead. Just enjoy myself perhaps!
Here I am at 1:30 in the morning, to scream your name over the internet, in the form of prose.
What do you propose? Are you not interested in seeing me fall to pieces at the mere mention of you? Do you not enjoy seeing me suffer?
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be able to keep you interested for the years to come. Will you still love me when I’ve gone mad? When you suddenly find everything about me boring and repetitive. Will I then be even a fraction interesting of what I am now? What if your mind decides there could be someone more interesting than I? What was it that even madee interesting in the first place? Am I even still interested? Maybe that’s the more important question. How am i even expected to sleep with all these damn uninteresting questions looming about in my head? Right now, as I type, you’re probably sitting there thinking “damn… I don’t need all this shit.” And soon, I’ll just be as uninteresting as the last one. I’ll turn into the next boring has-been in your life and all of these hopes and dres will crash. What’s left will be… A wreck.
hhuf hi my name is hayley im an athelete and i sing but i got to school im bored and i cannot say next please help me with my fears and lets acomlpish something
I am interested to find out what I will write about tonight. I do not normally write anymore, but I miss it greatly… since i have not in so long I wonder what story will erupt. Will it be one I trash in just a few minutes or one I fast forward through and see the outcome of the story even as I write the beginning? Those are my favorite, when I know what I will end the story with even as I begin it.
Her affair with the Ambassador was a messy, haphazard meeting of bodies. Or at least bits of bodies. For the most part Serena was sure that he was missing his targets entirely. The whole episode was an awkward clanking together. It left both of them feeling disheartened and embarrassed. Still, she had done the noble thing and pretended to be interested for the duration.
“Look, s’not that I ain’t flattered yer problem made ya think of little ol’ me but bottom line is, I ain’t interested in involvin’ myself in any of this royal business.”
“I KNOW you don’t like to get involved but this-”
“Ain’t no different, sweetheart; an’, ta be honest, no matter how much ya believe in the cause, it’s all the same ta me.”
i have never been so interested in a girl in my entire life. She walked as if every step would be the one that changed her life and smiled as her white teeth were just begging to come out of her mouth. I knew i didn’t have a chance with her, but I have never been one for statistics anyway.
You’ve caught me, dear,
like Jupiter in my iris.
No telling when I’ll wake up.
I’m a wanderer, dear,
but you’ve got my eyes all over you–
inside of you– where your soul hides
behind walls of marrow-eye
.
You draw lies around yourself in the hopes
you’ll turn chameleon in the nectar
of their tongues….
though I’ve a writer’s to swallow you down
down down:
sparks fly from your bleeding brain
headlines blinking, count the
pretty stars in the sky as it comes
to you. your pants change colour
and you;re inundated by
my simple phrases
check this box
or not.
maybe recycle that then.
it’s up to you.
hi can i talk to you?
do you have some time to complete this survey?
yes.
no.
i’m on my way to…
i don’t have time for you.
you are not worth my time.
sometimes there are dial tones at the end of my sentences.
I’m interested in change. I am interested in self motivation which I have been lacking. I am desperately interested in finding something that can fuel the motivation with which I would be able to change my present situation. This sucks.
“Would you be interested?” I took a few minutes to think about it, then answered “Yes”. This was not a commitment, yet, but I just didn’t want to cut off the opportunity until I was sure it was not right for me. I didn’t believe in Heaven and Hell, but this fellow calling himself the devil certainly seemed to think I had a soul worth taking…
Too much so. He was too interested. Had to think of something else but it kept coming back. He could see her legs, a brain scan sliding up from the bottom. He had that feeling in his chest right at the moment where he could feel his heart beating and he knew he’d need to stop.
There are about a thousand things to love and for you one of them is a dark art. It’s something that others have meddled in unsuccessfully, something that others have cursed because of their own lack of talent. You, though, you’re nothing in the grand scheme of this art, you’re a small speck on a horizon on a miniature planet. It’s bizarre, but sometimes you envy the writers that you’ve never met.
i am interested in so few things
i love horses
i love books
i love songs
but lately
even the things i love
have been boring me
who cares about math?
(me)
who cares about the latest book?
(me)
who cares about their grades?
(me)
not me
I had shaped the glass with precision. Each curve into the next, a blurring rainbow of color. It swung low and out, like a ballet dancer. The colors were a smooth transition. My first piece- the buyer wasn’t interested.
She wasn’t interested in his excuses. How many times had she forgiven him now. Twice? Three times? She no longer believed he could change. She looked at him now without hearing him, at his lips flapping open and closed like a fish in an aquarium. She felt the same cold disinterest that she would for that same fish.
I was less than interested in the declaration of independence movie. My oversized government teacher strolled, more like waddled across the class room and popped a VSR in to the billion year old player. I groaned. Ryan looked at me and laughed.
I’d be very interested in finding the Secret. What secret, you say? The secret of what makes different people tick. I’m interested in interesting people. And interested in being interesting, interestingly enough. What interests do I want to develop? Hopefully lucrative interests be
As an “interested party,” I was removed from the room before the deliberations began. Fortunately, there was enough drama in the antechamber to keep me entertained late into the evening.
She didn’t look interested by what I had to say. I think it flew right over her head, she had that sort of look, like, she already knew this was just and excuse and she wanted to fast forward to the part where I start to cry and apologise.
I’ve never been interested in the fast pace of a city or the glamour of high fashion. I’ve been too busy being enraptured by the babbling brooks and the wonder of changing leaves.
I am not interested in my own materialistic gain. I try to live as minimalistically as possible, where there is running water but no blaring television set, where there is a lamp to read beside but no glaring laptop screen with the harsh green wifi signal. I am not a wanderer, nor a woodsman. But I am a dreamer in a cottage whose imagination barely transcends the night stars.
i am interested. i wonder. i am on the pursuit of something. the line is filling and i am chasing it. sometimes i think i’ve found it and other times i feel just as far from it as i did when i began this journey. i am 211 days wiser but what is wisdom? do i have any more of it? i have enough curiousity and i guess that is interest, but will someone ever be interested in me? that’s the question for the day
I watched as she flipped her hair back casually. She did all these small little things.
Some she thought were weird, while they all grasped my attention.
It interested me so much, and she didn’t even know it.
I was never interested in what anyone had to say to me.
“Can you go to the store for me, please?”
“I have something to tell you, but you absolutely cannot tell anyone about it.”
“I don’t know why you don’t care.”
“Can you give me some sympathy please?”
Life. It was all so mundane. Nothing interesting ever happens, but everything is inevitable, so maybe something exciting will happen one day.
“We’ll pay 500k up front, and the rest later if you accept. Time is of the essence, Miss Agnew.” Branning leaned forward and gazed at her, resting a fist on his chin. “Are you interested?”
The blonde seductively licked her lips and leaned forward as well, their faces only inches apart. “Now I am. And please, if we’re going to be business partners, Jack, let’s work on a first name basis. Call me Diane.”
He smiled slyly. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you, Diane.”
Rob looked over his shoulder at her lying there on his bed. It wasn’t even that he was turned on – just interested. He hadn’t really done this before. He was glad that he finally had a chance.
I wasn’t interested in him, it was just something that fell on my path one day, on my way home from work. He was fairly good looking, and turned out to be somewhat funny too -the sort of guy mothers like. But I wasn’t any mother, and I felt like if that was what I was after -always nice and pleasing companion- I should have taken a dog.
Interested?
Well, that’s one word for it.
I had to give it to him. I was really interested. I never would have thought that I would ever be interested in a guy like him but there I was… very interested. I was interested in the way his hair moved when he talked, the way his eyes lit up when he got excited about… well anything really. I was interested
I was so interested to hear how her story ended. Still I never wanted it to come to a close. I had put too much into it for that hole in my life to be left completely open. I suppose everything has to end. That’s just the way it is.
Interested? I’m not interested. NO. No thank you! Honey, don’t do that! Leave the truck on the floor. What? No, not to you. . . look I don’t need lingerie! I just had a baby. . . and whatever. . . leave it. Oh darling, Daddy’s not here. No he isn’t coming home.
Well…. he look interested, but obviously was not. How could he live the store without even picking it up? Maybe she should have looked into stronger spells…. Next time she’ll get him!
i haven’t been very interested in me lately. my life has been a sort of blur. time seems to move so fast and so utterly slow at the same time. hours take minutes and minutes take days.
I am interested in so many things that I don’t have time for them all. Maybe I’ll forget about the housework and gardening and eat prepared meals instead. Just enjoy myself perhaps!
Here I am at 1:30 in the morning, to scream your name over the internet, in the form of prose.
What do you propose? Are you not interested in seeing me fall to pieces at the mere mention of you? Do you not enjoy seeing me suffer?
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be able to keep you interested for the years to come. Will you still love me when I’ve gone mad? When you suddenly find everything about me boring and repetitive. Will I then be even a fraction interesting of what I am now? What if your mind decides there could be someone more interesting than I? What was it that even madee interesting in the first place? Am I even still interested? Maybe that’s the more important question. How am i even expected to sleep with all these damn uninteresting questions looming about in my head? Right now, as I type, you’re probably sitting there thinking “damn… I don’t need all this shit.” And soon, I’ll just be as uninteresting as the last one. I’ll turn into the next boring has-been in your life and all of these hopes and dres will crash. What’s left will be… A wreck.
hhuf hi my name is hayley im an athelete and i sing but i got to school im bored and i cannot say next please help me with my fears and lets acomlpish something
I am interested to find out what I will write about tonight. I do not normally write anymore, but I miss it greatly… since i have not in so long I wonder what story will erupt. Will it be one I trash in just a few minutes or one I fast forward through and see the outcome of the story even as I write the beginning? Those are my favorite, when I know what I will end the story with even as I begin it.
Her affair with the Ambassador was a messy, haphazard meeting of bodies. Or at least bits of bodies. For the most part Serena was sure that he was missing his targets entirely. The whole episode was an awkward clanking together. It left both of them feeling disheartened and embarrassed. Still, she had done the noble thing and pretended to be interested for the duration.
“Look, s’not that I ain’t flattered yer problem made ya think of little ol’ me but bottom line is, I ain’t interested in involvin’ myself in any of this royal business.”
“I KNOW you don’t like to get involved but this-”
“Ain’t no different, sweetheart; an’, ta be honest, no matter how much ya believe in the cause, it’s all the same ta me.”
I am interested in nature, relationships and spirituality. I love to discover and learn more about the mysteries of nature .
i have never been so interested in a girl in my entire life. She walked as if every step would be the one that changed her life and smiled as her white teeth were just begging to come out of her mouth. I knew i didn’t have a chance with her, but I have never been one for statistics anyway.
You’ve caught me, dear,
like Jupiter in my iris.
No telling when I’ll wake up.
I’m a wanderer, dear,
but you’ve got my eyes all over you–
inside of you– where your soul hides
behind walls of marrow-eye
.
You draw lies around yourself in the hopes
you’ll turn chameleon in the nectar
of their tongues….
though I’ve a writer’s to swallow you down
down down:
surrender, sea, surrender.
sparks fly from your bleeding brain
headlines blinking, count the
pretty stars in the sky as it comes
to you. your pants change colour
and you;re inundated by
my simple phrases
“That’s interesting,” means more to science than “Eureka!” ever will.
check this box
or not.
maybe recycle that then.
it’s up to you.
hi can i talk to you?
do you have some time to complete this survey?
yes.
no.
i’m on my way to…
i don’t have time for you.
you are not worth my time.
sometimes there are dial tones at the end of my sentences.
I’m interested in change. I am interested in self motivation which I have been lacking. I am desperately interested in finding something that can fuel the motivation with which I would be able to change my present situation. This sucks.
“Would you be interested?” I took a few minutes to think about it, then answered “Yes”. This was not a commitment, yet, but I just didn’t want to cut off the opportunity until I was sure it was not right for me. I didn’t believe in Heaven and Hell, but this fellow calling himself the devil certainly seemed to think I had a soul worth taking…
Too much so. He was too interested. Had to think of something else but it kept coming back. He could see her legs, a brain scan sliding up from the bottom. He had that feeling in his chest right at the moment where he could feel his heart beating and he knew he’d need to stop.
There are about a thousand things to love and for you one of them is a dark art. It’s something that others have meddled in unsuccessfully, something that others have cursed because of their own lack of talent. You, though, you’re nothing in the grand scheme of this art, you’re a small speck on a horizon on a miniature planet. It’s bizarre, but sometimes you envy the writers that you’ve never met.
i am interested in so few things
i love horses
i love books
i love songs
but lately
even the things i love
have been boring me
who cares about math?
(me)
who cares about the latest book?
(me)
who cares about their grades?
(me)
not me
I had shaped the glass with precision. Each curve into the next, a blurring rainbow of color. It swung low and out, like a ballet dancer. The colors were a smooth transition. My first piece- the buyer wasn’t interested.
She wasn’t interested in his excuses. How many times had she forgiven him now. Twice? Three times? She no longer believed he could change. She looked at him now without hearing him, at his lips flapping open and closed like a fish in an aquarium. She felt the same cold disinterest that she would for that same fish.
I was less than interested in the declaration of independence movie. My oversized government teacher strolled, more like waddled across the class room and popped a VSR in to the billion year old player. I groaned. Ryan looked at me and laughed.
The interesting thing with interest, is how each indifference we feel, is replaced if someone just seems interested in our indifference.
I’d be very interested in finding the Secret. What secret, you say? The secret of what makes different people tick. I’m interested in interesting people. And interested in being interesting, interestingly enough. What interests do I want to develop? Hopefully lucrative interests be
Many people are interested in engineering course. But when they are front of difficults of calculus and another things, they run of this area.
As an “interested party,” I was removed from the room before the deliberations began. Fortunately, there was enough drama in the antechamber to keep me entertained late into the evening.
She didn’t look interested by what I had to say. I think it flew right over her head, she had that sort of look, like, she already knew this was just and excuse and she wanted to fast forward to the part where I start to cry and apologise.
I’ve never been interested in the fast pace of a city or the glamour of high fashion. I’ve been too busy being enraptured by the babbling brooks and the wonder of changing leaves.
I am not interested in my own materialistic gain. I try to live as minimalistically as possible, where there is running water but no blaring television set, where there is a lamp to read beside but no glaring laptop screen with the harsh green wifi signal. I am not a wanderer, nor a woodsman. But I am a dreamer in a cottage whose imagination barely transcends the night stars.
i am interested. i wonder. i am on the pursuit of something. the line is filling and i am chasing it. sometimes i think i’ve found it and other times i feel just as far from it as i did when i began this journey. i am 211 days wiser but what is wisdom? do i have any more of it? i have enough curiousity and i guess that is interest, but will someone ever be interested in me? that’s the question for the day
I watched as she flipped her hair back casually. She did all these small little things.
Some she thought were weird, while they all grasped my attention.
It interested me so much, and she didn’t even know it.
I was never interested in what anyone had to say to me.
“Can you go to the store for me, please?”
“I have something to tell you, but you absolutely cannot tell anyone about it.”
“I don’t know why you don’t care.”
“Can you give me some sympathy please?”
Life. It was all so mundane. Nothing interesting ever happens, but everything is inevitable, so maybe something exciting will happen one day.
“We’ll pay 500k up front, and the rest later if you accept. Time is of the essence, Miss Agnew.” Branning leaned forward and gazed at her, resting a fist on his chin. “Are you interested?”
The blonde seductively licked her lips and leaned forward as well, their faces only inches apart. “Now I am. And please, if we’re going to be business partners, Jack, let’s work on a first name basis. Call me Diane.”
He smiled slyly. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you, Diane.”
Rob looked over his shoulder at her lying there on his bed. It wasn’t even that he was turned on – just interested. He hadn’t really done this before. He was glad that he finally had a chance.
I wasn’t interested in him, it was just something that fell on my path one day, on my way home from work. He was fairly good looking, and turned out to be somewhat funny too -the sort of guy mothers like. But I wasn’t any mother, and I felt like if that was what I was after -always nice and pleasing companion- I should have taken a dog.