There is a song by “Imagine Dragons” that is called “Monster”. I used to like it. Another thing that comes to my mind is Sherlock’s mother in “His Last Vow” saying that when she finds out who placed a bullet in her boy’s chest, she will turn absolutely monstrous. Or something like that.
He was a monster. The kind of man that you would expect to come out of the shadows of a back alley. His demeanor was sinister, making a shiver go up your spine at the sight of him. There is no other way to describe him. He is just a monster. an
He said he was a monster. That he would do nothing but hurt me. He would leave me in heartbreak. But he wasn’t a monster. He was going to hurt me. The thing was, he was afraid of himself.
As she stepped up to the mirror, she saw what she had become. She was no longer the smiling young girl she used to be. Her once healthy, chestnut brown hair was stringy and fried. Her white teeth were now yellow and rotten. Her slightly curvy body was now nothing but bones and scraps of skin. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, were hollow. The person staring back at her was not who she wanted it to be. The reflection was ugly and full of hate. It was brooding and dark. The longer she looked, the more she felt disgusted with herself. She was not just a girl anymore. She was a monster.
“Monsters aren’t real,” my mom reassured me.
I nodded by head, wiped away my tears, and got back in bed. I always believed her as a kid but now I know they are real. Monsters might not have gnashing teeth or huge claws, but they do exist. Monsters are the people that tear you down at school, the boss that picks on you, and the politicians who seem to have no sympathy for foreigners. I’m talking to you Mr. Trump.
Monster climb under your bed. They do anything and everything to scare you. Little kids screaming for their lives. Old men telling tales of lies. Halloween when all of the monsters come out. You see dark shadows and suddenly assume. Standing in a dark room hearing noises.
we are all scared of monsters in a way, monster that were under our beds as little kids, the monster that are in everyones head as they grow older. Most people see monsters as the people that are terrible in life today.
When you think of a monster, what do you think of? Is it a beast from a horror movie? Monsters are out there, but in they are sometimes in a different for. A normal, human being form. Humans can haunt each other just like monsters in movies terrorize their victims. We are all monsters, in a way. We all do harm to other people’s lives.
I see this drink in the almost every store I walk into. I see black with a green scratch in the midst of the black. It’s an energy drink to many people, but to me, it is a memory. A memory of him. Every time I saw him he had one in hand. I even have stickers of that green scratch mark in my car that he placed there. It was his favorite drink, and although I hated the taste, it became mine too.
It ate his heart first–the one thing that kept us attached. It devoured the rest of his body with a single swallow. He was gone from my grasp. I fell to the floor exasperated. No more fighting. Screaming. Crying. I took a breath. All my efforts had diminished within a second with his old friend. From where I was standing, all I could see was the bottom of a bottle.
I don’t like monsters. I don’t read books with your typical monsters. I don’t watch movies with villains. I still hide eyes at blood and guts and gore. Horror is not a genre I’m drawn to. I can’t even walk past the shelves or look at the covers of the DVDs.
I think the reason’s because I’ve got a lot of monsters. And they’re all hidden–deep–right inside of me.
People are monsters. All of us. You are, I am, the person in the chair beside you is.
We all are. No exceptions.
You may not carry ulterior motives with every favor you deal. You may not drive too fast or make risky decisions. You may not be morally bad in any perceivable way, but you are a person, and people make mistakes.
That is what makes us human, and that is what makes us monstrous.
They hide under your bed. Scare you as a child. They hide in your head and scare you as an adult. You can’t run away. You can’t hide. You can only stand up to them. Be courageous.
the excuses we make. the lies we share. We hurt others and we don’t really seem to care. The monster inside makes us shake with fear. We fear what we could be.
A hideous creature usually described as large. Can be hairy slimy smooth or rough. Frightening teeth and claws or small and hermit like. These can be any shape or size but the larger the better. Monsters are horrbile things
Monsters live under your bed, of course. Established fact.
But try to show some sympathy – this is actually due to the otherworldly housing crisis. There’s a complex political system at work in mirrors, and coincidentally it mirrors ours.
Mortgages aren’t so important since monsters tend to wander, but leasing shadows is getting more and more difficult for small monstering families. Bogeymen are the worst landlords, and rents are at an all-time high for dilapidated corners and creaky attics.
Sometimes, he can live in the same house as you do. When other people come over, they don’t see him; they just see a man. But when they go away, and nobody is home, he comes out. He smiles at you and asks you what you’ve been doing all morning, and you feel this terrible feeling that the smile is not about how much he loves your or like the smiles of other people who love you. This is the smile that comes before all the bad things happen, and you wish he’d stop smiling because then it would mean that he wasn’t going to do the bad things this time; that maybe he was too tired or just didn’t want to. People think that monsters live under your bed or look like Dracula or are bigger than a tree and stronger than anything and scary to look at. That’s not what the monster I know looked like. He was handsome sometimes. He laughed sometimes. He was nice (not to me) sometimes. But he was the scariest monster I ever knew.
“You are such a little monster!” I remember saying these words with great affection (and sometimes not so great) to my colicy child as I paced the floor with him many, many nights. Tiny little gremlin who stole my heart!
The monster inside her roared with disgust and quasi-amusement. “You are so infuriating.”
“What?”
“Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know that you are making me mad.”
“I like making you mad. You are beautiful when you are angry.”
“Misogynist pig.”
“Yeah, just like that.”
She wanted to slap him.
In a dark, dank corner of a place of little importance there lay a man, sprawled on the floor as though sleeping. He lay still as the stagnant air of the crevice in which he laid his head; eyes as bleak and deprived as the stone trappings of the walls; blue, like the sky at which he now listlessly stared. Crimson threads unravelled around his head, the rivulets of red weaving a web-like halo around his statuesque face. Why is he here? Who does he wait for?
Red drops dot the walls like stars, and the ominous shrieking of the wind through the narrow divide of the alley seems bullying, impatient. As though ready to sweep away the absence in the man’s head, drain the ribbons of red that line the streets, and light the life in the man’s eyes. To grow seeds from the ashes of this wilted flower.
A symphony of blue and red sounds in the distance. They’re upon us before schedule. The crackle of the tape as it stretches sounds like a scream, entrapping the man in a cage of cacophony, a thing to be examined like a rare butterfly or a snake. Wearied resignation seeps into the faces of the onlookers. A woman screams. Distress. Panic.
Of course, then he gets back up. Then they really start to worry.
Monsters can be many different things. They don’t have to be fictional beings like in Monsters Inc. Monsters can be tyrants or criminals or scary things you imagine.
Your lungs are on fire, you don’t usually run like this. The treadmills at the gym had you fooled. The hairs on the back of you neck stand at attention because you can feel that thing closing in. It’s hissing and slithering and you let a few curses fly as you run even harder. You want to look behind you, but you’ll be damned if you end up like one of those fools in the horror movies that trips at the last minute. The cellar door is open. You thank God, Allah, and Buddha as you skid towards it. In your haste, you break a nail clean off and earn a few splinters, but when the door slams shut behind you the only thing you feel are the tears on your cheeks and blessed relief.
We grew up scared of the monsters living under our beds, or the ones that slept in our closets. But we should have been terrified of the ones taking up rent in our heads.
monster are strong and scary which is a very bad combo if they are bad monster but is very good if the monster is good so try not to anger a monster or else he will get mad.
Monster may look black blue white yellow or any other color but everyone thinks of the scariest color and that’s the color they so its very interesting that nobody thinks of them as a different color.
Monsters are always thought of as scary but some monsters may be good and some may be bad but monsters are maybe thought of as scary but it may just been one monster who gave them a bad reputation.
It’s terrible really. I can only think of one person.
Me.
Green scales covered what could only use considered legs. Dark patches of fur dotted the upper torso of the beast, nay monster.
write read car box chair living room chicken cat dog laundry enjoy hurt angry cool sorry teacher muse
before you defeat the monster, you have to say it’s name
you have to look it in the eye,
but you cannot bring yourself to raise your head.
There is a song by “Imagine Dragons” that is called “Monster”. I used to like it. Another thing that comes to my mind is Sherlock’s mother in “His Last Vow” saying that when she finds out who placed a bullet in her boy’s chest, she will turn absolutely monstrous. Or something like that.
He was a monster. The kind of man that you would expect to come out of the shadows of a back alley. His demeanor was sinister, making a shiver go up your spine at the sight of him. There is no other way to describe him. He is just a monster. an
He said he was a monster. That he would do nothing but hurt me. He would leave me in heartbreak. But he wasn’t a monster. He was going to hurt me. The thing was, he was afraid of himself.
As she stepped up to the mirror, she saw what she had become. She was no longer the smiling young girl she used to be. Her once healthy, chestnut brown hair was stringy and fried. Her white teeth were now yellow and rotten. Her slightly curvy body was now nothing but bones and scraps of skin. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, were hollow. The person staring back at her was not who she wanted it to be. The reflection was ugly and full of hate. It was brooding and dark. The longer she looked, the more she felt disgusted with herself. She was not just a girl anymore. She was a monster.
“Monsters aren’t real,” my mom reassured me.
I nodded by head, wiped away my tears, and got back in bed. I always believed her as a kid but now I know they are real. Monsters might not have gnashing teeth or huge claws, but they do exist. Monsters are the people that tear you down at school, the boss that picks on you, and the politicians who seem to have no sympathy for foreigners. I’m talking to you Mr. Trump.
they’re not so bad, buddy. you just gotta get to know ’em. it’s like my bro always says “EVEN THE WORST TYPES DESERVE A CHANCE!”
Monster climb under your bed. They do anything and everything to scare you. Little kids screaming for their lives. Old men telling tales of lies. Halloween when all of the monsters come out. You see dark shadows and suddenly assume. Standing in a dark room hearing noises.
we are all scared of monsters in a way, monster that were under our beds as little kids, the monster that are in everyones head as they grow older. Most people see monsters as the people that are terrible in life today.
When you think of a monster, what do you think of? Is it a beast from a horror movie? Monsters are out there, but in they are sometimes in a different for. A normal, human being form. Humans can haunt each other just like monsters in movies terrorize their victims. We are all monsters, in a way. We all do harm to other people’s lives.
I see this drink in the almost every store I walk into. I see black with a green scratch in the midst of the black. It’s an energy drink to many people, but to me, it is a memory. A memory of him. Every time I saw him he had one in hand. I even have stickers of that green scratch mark in my car that he placed there. It was his favorite drink, and although I hated the taste, it became mine too.
It ate his heart first–the one thing that kept us attached. It devoured the rest of his body with a single swallow. He was gone from my grasp. I fell to the floor exasperated. No more fighting. Screaming. Crying. I took a breath. All my efforts had diminished within a second with his old friend. From where I was standing, all I could see was the bottom of a bottle.
I don’t like monsters. I don’t read books with your typical monsters. I don’t watch movies with villains. I still hide eyes at blood and guts and gore. Horror is not a genre I’m drawn to. I can’t even walk past the shelves or look at the covers of the DVDs.
I think the reason’s because I’ve got a lot of monsters. And they’re all hidden–deep–right inside of me.
People are monsters. All of us. You are, I am, the person in the chair beside you is.
We all are. No exceptions.
You may not carry ulterior motives with every favor you deal. You may not drive too fast or make risky decisions. You may not be morally bad in any perceivable way, but you are a person, and people make mistakes.
That is what makes us human, and that is what makes us monstrous.
They hide under your bed. Scare you as a child. They hide in your head and scare you as an adult. You can’t run away. You can’t hide. You can only stand up to them. Be courageous.
the excuses we make. the lies we share. We hurt others and we don’t really seem to care. The monster inside makes us shake with fear. We fear what we could be.
As I typed these words, my head began to pound with a monster headache.
Monsters may look scary and mean, but on the inside the might be good hearted and warm. Remember not all monsters are mean.
A hideous creature usually described as large. Can be hairy slimy smooth or rough. Frightening teeth and claws or small and hermit like. These can be any shape or size but the larger the better. Monsters are horrbile things
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Monsters live under your bed, of course. Established fact.
But try to show some sympathy – this is actually due to the otherworldly housing crisis. There’s a complex political system at work in mirrors, and coincidentally it mirrors ours.
Mortgages aren’t so important since monsters tend to wander, but leasing shadows is getting more and more difficult for small monstering families. Bogeymen are the worst landlords, and rents are at an all-time high for dilapidated corners and creaky attics.
Sometimes, he can live in the same house as you do. When other people come over, they don’t see him; they just see a man. But when they go away, and nobody is home, he comes out. He smiles at you and asks you what you’ve been doing all morning, and you feel this terrible feeling that the smile is not about how much he loves your or like the smiles of other people who love you. This is the smile that comes before all the bad things happen, and you wish he’d stop smiling because then it would mean that he wasn’t going to do the bad things this time; that maybe he was too tired or just didn’t want to. People think that monsters live under your bed or look like Dracula or are bigger than a tree and stronger than anything and scary to look at. That’s not what the monster I know looked like. He was handsome sometimes. He laughed sometimes. He was nice (not to me) sometimes. But he was the scariest monster I ever knew.
“You are such a little monster!” I remember saying these words with great affection (and sometimes not so great) to my colicy child as I paced the floor with him many, many nights. Tiny little gremlin who stole my heart!
i’m a monster terrorizing the world and destroying everything, i mean i’m even stronger than godzilla and king kong combined.
The monster inside her roared with disgust and quasi-amusement. “You are so infuriating.”
“What?”
“Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know that you are making me mad.”
“I like making you mad. You are beautiful when you are angry.”
“Misogynist pig.”
“Yeah, just like that.”
She wanted to slap him.
In a dark, dank corner of a place of little importance there lay a man, sprawled on the floor as though sleeping. He lay still as the stagnant air of the crevice in which he laid his head; eyes as bleak and deprived as the stone trappings of the walls; blue, like the sky at which he now listlessly stared. Crimson threads unravelled around his head, the rivulets of red weaving a web-like halo around his statuesque face. Why is he here? Who does he wait for?
Red drops dot the walls like stars, and the ominous shrieking of the wind through the narrow divide of the alley seems bullying, impatient. As though ready to sweep away the absence in the man’s head, drain the ribbons of red that line the streets, and light the life in the man’s eyes. To grow seeds from the ashes of this wilted flower.
A symphony of blue and red sounds in the distance. They’re upon us before schedule. The crackle of the tape as it stretches sounds like a scream, entrapping the man in a cage of cacophony, a thing to be examined like a rare butterfly or a snake. Wearied resignation seeps into the faces of the onlookers. A woman screams. Distress. Panic.
Of course, then he gets back up. Then they really start to worry.
Monsters are scary. I like the movie Monsters Inc. It is really funny. Sulley is my favorite because he is blue and purple.
Monsters can be many different things. They don’t have to be fictional beings like in Monsters Inc. Monsters can be tyrants or criminals or scary things you imagine.
Your lungs are on fire, you don’t usually run like this. The treadmills at the gym had you fooled. The hairs on the back of you neck stand at attention because you can feel that thing closing in. It’s hissing and slithering and you let a few curses fly as you run even harder. You want to look behind you, but you’ll be damned if you end up like one of those fools in the horror movies that trips at the last minute. The cellar door is open. You thank God, Allah, and Buddha as you skid towards it. In your haste, you break a nail clean off and earn a few splinters, but when the door slams shut behind you the only thing you feel are the tears on your cheeks and blessed relief.
Monsters are scary and I do not like them one bit, they are scary but to them the scariest monster is you! Hush now dear children
We grew up scared of the monsters living under our beds, or the ones that slept in our closets. But we should have been terrified of the ones taking up rent in our heads.
monster are strong and scary which is a very bad combo if they are bad monster but is very good if the monster is good so try not to anger a monster or else he will get mad.
Monster may look black blue white yellow or any other color but everyone thinks of the scariest color and that’s the color they so its very interesting that nobody thinks of them as a different color.
Monsters are always thought of as scary but some monsters may be good and some may be bad but monsters are maybe thought of as scary but it may just been one monster who gave them a bad reputation.
The monster is very scare-y when he yells BOO!