I might be good at many things, but I am definitely not good at everything. I would like to be, but it might seem out of my might to get there. Anyhow, there isn’t much one can do other than trying and who knows, one might just get there. But then, I don’t ever want to know if I got there, saves me the complacency.
I have might. She power. Girl power. The might of the mama waking in the night. The might of the student working through the beautiful weekends. The might to wake up every morning and go to work. To make lunches. To be brave.
Sometimes she thinks she knows what she is doing, other times she might not. That is the way life is, there is nothing you can do about it. You just go with the flow.
We might be there. We might not. As in we may show up, may disappear. Because we might not have the nerve to appear, and will have to dis-, to not-, to un-. Because might is so temporary, so flimsy, so fraught with its negative, its opposite, its not. Because might. Is not. Mighty.
He might take her nipple into his mouth. He might slide his fingers down her sides, tracing the lace of her panties. He might place butterfly kisses around her nipple. Or, he might just leave her there, aroused.
i might think you’re pretty and i might not whose there even to say another day will come and the gold on my finger might be there gold might be or might not who can you even be to say. i believe in beautiful things. i do and fear sometime it makes me vain. it might.
“What do you mean she MIGHT be pregnant?” he scoffed at his best friend. “Ok I know you fucking hate her guts, but you’re talking about potentially the mother of my future child here.”
one the verge of downfall at the hands of the Persian empire’s might, Leonidas and the 300 took a chance and played their calling card, aka, the twerk.
“What do you mean, ‘might’?” her mother asks, leaning against the doorframe.
She pushes away from the desk, feeling exhausted and defeated. “I don’t know! I don’t know what I want! I might go to college, might not. It’s not a big deal.”
Crustaceans laying at the bottom of the sea look at the sun through a chain of waves. They feel the crashing noise and, without any conscience, recognize its strength.
Might is an optimist’s word I believe. It’s hope and a belief that something will happen or should happen. But someone like me doesn’t believe in the might. I am too pessimist a person to be hopeful of anything. Pessimism attracts me, hope doesn’t. It’s too much of value laden. Might is morality.
David swiftly slide across the pavement. With all of his might, he grabbed the green park bench. It was slick with the rain of the past morning. The watery residue helped him propel it faster through the air and right in the direction of the behemoth before him. The behemoth eyed him with a raging, but almost amused expression. As soon as the bench was close enough, it slashed its large arm in its immediate direction, sending the bench ricocheting.
His might was tested when there was a dragon trying to lay waste to his village. The hero didn’t flinch and showed immense strength and courage and took the indomitable enemy head on.
I might like to do that. I’d use all my might, fight with all my might. I might be alright. I might see the light. Quite right, quite right. Might I have another night? I hope it’s gonna be alright. I’ll use my might to fight the fight. Alright.
what might you do? Tomorrow, the day after, yesterday, what about right now? the possibilities are endless in the word “might”. Might opens the door in some instances, but closes it in other ones though. But it’s mostly uncertainty, the only thing you know for sure about might is that you’re unsure of it.
A whisper of a possibility echoes in my soul. A tree of light, branching in hundreds of thousands of different directions — all possibilities, all goals perfectly attainable — with the sacrifice of different paths and branches.
Each choice narrowing, each choice defining; each choice limiting.
These possibilities, these might bes, they no longer seem like a blessing but instead like a curse.
You might do it. Maybe you should, but you tell your self you might. Damn, just say you will. actually, don’t say it, just do it. remember shia. just do it. if you tell yourself to just do it, you might just do it.
The veins in his biceps bulged. (Red wire, blue wire.) With a considerable amount of noise, perhaps more than was strictly necessary despite the bulging veins, Jon hefted the boulder over his head.
“That wasn’t too bad,” he said, and Jeanette knew she’d been right to suspect all the moaning and groaning was for dramatic effect. He wasn’t even slightly out of breath.
It is a difficult move to execute, running your hand down the small of her back and kissing her neck while her husband is in the room. But I managed it. I snuck it in. And I saw her eyes close and I heard her taking a deep breath. She threw her head back and sighed a little, an almost inaudible moan, so unbearably sexy. Then she took in a full mouthful of champagne and as she turned to walk away she whispered, ‘Three strikes Romeo. You have one left.’
I might.
I might not.
It all depends on how bad today is.
I might.
I might not.
Just get through the day.
It’s not just a might.
It’s a true.
It’s a yes.
Georgia felt best when she was giddy. In one way or another she had always sought a path to great heights. As a child she dreamt of flapping her arms and soaring up over the electricity wires, over houses and cities. A little older she would literally scream down the highest hills she could find on her push bike to feel the full force of the wind in her face. As a teenager she took pills. They made her feel like she was walking on clouds, literally springing from place to place, with her mind rising up and out of her head, floating in pretty pink galaxies. And now that she is too old to dream and ride pushbikes and take drugs, she is still trying to fly. She meditates, sits painstakingly still and trains her mind to push through the bullshit of her life and find the beautiful nothingness. When she gets there she floats through it and thinks that she is finally flying, ever so gently.
The feet at the end of my legs have a mind of their own. They might take me to him. But then again, they might take me to you. To you and your desperately sad little apartment. To you and your strong arms and soft lips and celtic tattoos. And if my feet end up leading me right into your bed, then what will you do with me?
maybe just maybe you might say; yes
maybe it doesn’t have to be all just in my head
just maybe you might come around and turn back
just as i look at you
just might, it may not be anything i dream of
its hard to tell because all i think of is you
one of the evil words in our generation. I might go somewhere, I might do this, I might love him. I might be able to do good in this job. This might be my dream. There is too much uncertainty in this world and in our generation
I might just love you. -said the girl with a smile
I might just hate you. -said the boy with a snarl
I might just miss you. -said the girl through tears
I might just want you. -said the boy through tears
We might just want something we both can’t have. -they said to the mirror
She has great might,
Yes, that’s right.
And every night,
she wins the fight.
She sees the light,
so she flies a kite.
Her might is strong,
and it’ll last long.
i might love you, i might not.
i might do the grocery tomorrow. i may mop the floor. i might get postcards and stamps and send at least five letters–i might hit something. i might throw the chair out the window. i might climb up the hill and water the plants and color the sky or i might stay at home and do nothing and call my voicemail and let my feet dangle out the window.
i might still love you tomorrow. i might not.
I might be insecure. I have a hard time realizing that people like being around me. This is surprising to me when someone says, “You’re my best friend,” “You’re amazing.” How can this be? Why am I this way?
“If all else fails,” commented Harold, “we’ll have to…”
“We’ll HAVE to?”
He sighed. “We MIGHT have to reconsider everything. Look, you and I want to be walking down the same path here. But if you’re successful and I’m not, or if it’s the other way around…well, you know how that can change the dynamic in a relationship. Usually badly.”
“How can you say that?” I demanded. My beer was getting warm in its glass. “I mean, how can you lack so much confidence in us?”
I might be good at many things, but I am definitely not good at everything. I would like to be, but it might seem out of my might to get there. Anyhow, there isn’t much one can do other than trying and who knows, one might just get there. But then, I don’t ever want to know if I got there, saves me the complacency.
I might feel better if there was someone here to care.
I have might. She power. Girl power. The might of the mama waking in the night. The might of the student working through the beautiful weekends. The might to wake up every morning and go to work. To make lunches. To be brave.
Sometimes she thinks she knows what she is doing, other times she might not. That is the way life is, there is nothing you can do about it. You just go with the flow.
it isn’t,
but it might be
maybe.
you said you wouldn’t,
that you couldn’t,
but you might,
if it felt good
if it felt right.
We might be there. We might not. As in we may show up, may disappear. Because we might not have the nerve to appear, and will have to dis-, to not-, to un-. Because might is so temporary, so flimsy, so fraught with its negative, its opposite, its not. Because might. Is not. Mighty.
He might take her nipple into his mouth. He might slide his fingers down her sides, tracing the lace of her panties. He might place butterfly kisses around her nipple. Or, he might just leave her there, aroused.
“We might have been if not for…”
“He might have noticed the signs but…”
“You might be better off without…”
The might of such a word as might is almost as bad as almost’s.
I might, just might, kiss the girl next to me
Might it be nicer to wander and to wonder, to leave your home and the map behind with it.
i might think you’re pretty and i might not whose there even to say another day will come and the gold on my finger might be there gold might be or might not who can you even be to say. i believe in beautiful things. i do and fear sometime it makes me vain. it might.
I thought that I might survive
but i didn’t only just survived,
I soared.
i thought i might be courageous
but i didn’t only just have courage,
I roared.
“What do you mean she MIGHT be pregnant?” he scoffed at his best friend. “Ok I know you fucking hate her guts, but you’re talking about potentially the mother of my future child here.”
one the verge of downfall at the hands of the Persian empire’s might, Leonidas and the 300 took a chance and played their calling card, aka, the twerk.
“What do you mean, ‘might’?” her mother asks, leaning against the doorframe.
She pushes away from the desk, feeling exhausted and defeated. “I don’t know! I don’t know what I want! I might go to college, might not. It’s not a big deal.”
I might have written something significant here.
Crustaceans laying at the bottom of the sea look at the sun through a chain of waves. They feel the crashing noise and, without any conscience, recognize its strength.
I might make it in life. Or I might not. But I might not forgive myself if I don’t try.
he might win the race,susan reckoned. its was the first time the champion raced after his injury.it is tough to return after that lethal injury.
Might is an optimist’s word I believe. It’s hope and a belief that something will happen or should happen. But someone like me doesn’t believe in the might. I am too pessimist a person to be hopeful of anything. Pessimism attracts me, hope doesn’t. It’s too much of value laden. Might is morality.
David swiftly slide across the pavement. With all of his might, he grabbed the green park bench. It was slick with the rain of the past morning. The watery residue helped him propel it faster through the air and right in the direction of the behemoth before him. The behemoth eyed him with a raging, but almost amused expression. As soon as the bench was close enough, it slashed its large arm in its immediate direction, sending the bench ricocheting.
His might was tested when there was a dragon trying to lay waste to his village. The hero didn’t flinch and showed immense strength and courage and took the indomitable enemy head on.
I might like to do that. I’d use all my might, fight with all my might. I might be alright. I might see the light. Quite right, quite right. Might I have another night? I hope it’s gonna be alright. I’ll use my might to fight the fight. Alright.
what might you do? Tomorrow, the day after, yesterday, what about right now? the possibilities are endless in the word “might”. Might opens the door in some instances, but closes it in other ones though. But it’s mostly uncertainty, the only thing you know for sure about might is that you’re unsure of it.
A whisper of a possibility echoes in my soul. A tree of light, branching in hundreds of thousands of different directions — all possibilities, all goals perfectly attainable — with the sacrifice of different paths and branches.
Each choice narrowing, each choice defining; each choice limiting.
These possibilities, these might bes, they no longer seem like a blessing but instead like a curse.
You might do it. Maybe you should, but you tell your self you might. Damn, just say you will. actually, don’t say it, just do it. remember shia. just do it. if you tell yourself to just do it, you might just do it.
The veins in his biceps bulged. (Red wire, blue wire.) With a considerable amount of noise, perhaps more than was strictly necessary despite the bulging veins, Jon hefted the boulder over his head.
“That wasn’t too bad,” he said, and Jeanette knew she’d been right to suspect all the moaning and groaning was for dramatic effect. He wasn’t even slightly out of breath.
EXECUTE
It is a difficult move to execute, running your hand down the small of her back and kissing her neck while her husband is in the room. But I managed it. I snuck it in. And I saw her eyes close and I heard her taking a deep breath. She threw her head back and sighed a little, an almost inaudible moan, so unbearably sexy. Then she took in a full mouthful of champagne and as she turned to walk away she whispered, ‘Three strikes Romeo. You have one left.’
I might.
I might not.
It all depends on how bad today is.
I might.
I might not.
Just get through the day.
It’s not just a might.
It’s a true.
It’s a yes.
FLYER
Georgia felt best when she was giddy. In one way or another she had always sought a path to great heights. As a child she dreamt of flapping her arms and soaring up over the electricity wires, over houses and cities. A little older she would literally scream down the highest hills she could find on her push bike to feel the full force of the wind in her face. As a teenager she took pills. They made her feel like she was walking on clouds, literally springing from place to place, with her mind rising up and out of her head, floating in pretty pink galaxies. And now that she is too old to dream and ride pushbikes and take drugs, she is still trying to fly. She meditates, sits painstakingly still and trains her mind to push through the bullshit of her life and find the beautiful nothingness. When she gets there she floats through it and thinks that she is finally flying, ever so gently.
The feet at the end of my legs have a mind of their own. They might take me to him. But then again, they might take me to you. To you and your desperately sad little apartment. To you and your strong arms and soft lips and celtic tattoos. And if my feet end up leading me right into your bed, then what will you do with me?
maybe just maybe you might say; yes
maybe it doesn’t have to be all just in my head
just maybe you might come around and turn back
just as i look at you
just might, it may not be anything i dream of
its hard to tell because all i think of is you
one of the evil words in our generation. I might go somewhere, I might do this, I might love him. I might be able to do good in this job. This might be my dream. There is too much uncertainty in this world and in our generation
I might just love you. -said the girl with a smile
I might just hate you. -said the boy with a snarl
I might just miss you. -said the girl through tears
I might just want you. -said the boy through tears
We might just want something we both can’t have. -they said to the mirror
She has great might,
Yes, that’s right.
And every night,
she wins the fight.
She sees the light,
so she flies a kite.
Her might is strong,
and it’ll last long.
i might love you, i might not.
i might do the grocery tomorrow. i may mop the floor. i might get postcards and stamps and send at least five letters–i might hit something. i might throw the chair out the window. i might climb up the hill and water the plants and color the sky or i might stay at home and do nothing and call my voicemail and let my feet dangle out the window.
i might still love you tomorrow. i might not.
I might be insecure. I have a hard time realizing that people like being around me. This is surprising to me when someone says, “You’re my best friend,” “You’re amazing.” How can this be? Why am I this way?
“If all else fails,” commented Harold, “we’ll have to…”
“We’ll HAVE to?”
He sighed. “We MIGHT have to reconsider everything. Look, you and I want to be walking down the same path here. But if you’re successful and I’m not, or if it’s the other way around…well, you know how that can change the dynamic in a relationship. Usually badly.”
“How can you say that?” I demanded. My beer was getting warm in its glass. “I mean, how can you lack so much confidence in us?”
i might be something one day .Might ,why not you will.i might can .No you can.take might out of your vocab and say you will.Be definite .I can
I might not have anything to say today, but still I might write anyway.