bitter and sour. you feel the weight above from your head. you care about your own soul and not about your love’s souls. you care about youre own being which at times is okay.
Everyone is shallow I have their own way, I whether we realise it or not. But it’s not a bad thing, be shallow, make yourself happy, and love yourself. Don’t feel bad when someone says you’re shallow turn around and them you deserve to choose your own choices and make yourself happy.
She was Shallow. She was a product of her society, in a world when she had no choice but to pick one thing to be defined by for the rest of her life. She wasn’t gentle like her father, or strong like her mother. She was not as kind as her brother nor as charming as her sister. She was Shallow. And that was all she would ever be.
is the mind that wanders into thoughts of sex often enough that nothing else gets done. So many minds are like this and we all like to think we are better than that
I’ve always been shallow. Well that’s what my friends say. Always chasing after the good looking boys. Always wanting to be friends with the girls who’re popular. Shame that they don’t want to be friends with me or that the boys who like me are the swats. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers but I’d love just for once to be noticed. Wouldn’t that be fab?
She nearly cried in relief upon setting her sight on the river. The sun reflected off the shallow waters, making it seem even more inviting. Quickly, she approached, rushing to strip off her shoes and socks; aching to submerge her aching feet into the inviting water.
He seemed pretty shallow on the outside. Not really caring about others, nor even his friends, but was he really always like this? His eyes weren’t the ones of a indifferent person. They seemed more like the eyes of a suffering one, a lonely person who had nothing than himself for a long time. He looked toward me, to turn quickly soon after and walked away, alone in his hidden sadness.
The river came up to her shins, cloaking them in shimmery silk-like puffs as she waded in deeper and deeper. From time to time, fish would nip at her ankles, like little friends just trying to say hello.
Maia had no time to greet them back, though. Shivo, the person who had skinned her of her tail, lay on the other bank, and intel had told her that if she so much as dallied before the sun set today, she would lose him forever, along with the only thing that would allow her to return to the Sea.
And although each step felt like a million tiny knives piercing her skin – she should have listened to Ariel, crazy old blow fish as she was – she trudged on, for the bubbles strewn around her toes reminded her all the more of the home she’d left behind for Prince Kai, and there was nothing on this earth that would stop her from returning, now that she’d learned the error of her mistakes.
The bustling midday city crowd paid little attention to the malnourished children lying under the scorching heat. They wished to see a better future but couldn’t escape the vicious cycle of poverty.
Meanwhile, a car jostled about the road, stopping in front of a shallow pit.
The children hurried round the car, hoarding the black sedan like a bunch of excited bees. The shiny surface zoomed past them even before they could show their latest collection of fancy books.
The grave was shallow, did it matter? Was anyone really going to come across it all the way out here in the middle of the Forrest?
She took a second to look around her and consider her options, she could keep digging but risk loosing the light and being stuck out here or she could let it be and finally move on with her life
Decisions, decisions…..
she was, without a care for others… or was it at the beach with the waters lapping, clear and warm before the change comes as ou head further out… where the rocks and stones are, where it can hurt
just like her and her shallow narrow barbs
Depth is a perception that is subjective in total. I tried to measure the depth and the shallow part was just too shallow to comprehend. I have no idea what the shallow end is even for. The depth is what matters.
his mind ripples like the water and i can’t see to the bottom;
i’m not sure he can either.
he is closed and he is cautious and he talks,
oh he says everything i want to hear,
and maybe he means it
but his mind is still just the river and i can’t see to the bottom.
i want to hold him close but i know
he will slip through my fingers
and i don’t even know where to begin.
What a shallow asshole. This guy thinks that he can be drunk and ask me to do things for him. I have a boyfriend. That is not okay. Why am I even his friend in the first place? Well he is really nice to me, but I guess he only cares about one thing. What a shame. And no this has nothing to do with shallow. I am just venting.
Shallow river, feet in cold. Pebbles bite the bare arches. River nymphs dance past calves, giggling as they tumble forth and crash against each other. The beat themselves against the stones and race downwards, laughing themselves away from the mountains and off to a distant sea.
I met a girl the other day, a girl by the sea who went by the name Anna-Marie. She took my hand and placed it underneath her open blouse upon her soft white breasts, she acknowledged my extravagant wealth and what a shallow cunt she was
The water was shallow enough that he could feel the fin along his spine graze the surface and cause ripples every now-and-then.
Turning over onto his back wouldn’t be easy, so he couldn’t admire the view of the cloudy sky from in the water as he swam. Instead, he had to settle for the view of the soft, sun-flecked sand that occasionally held rocks or shells within it.
The water was shallow, cold, frigid. She waded in cautiously, feeling the waves lap slowly against her legs. The sun shone softly from above, enveloping her in a comfortable warmth. Besides the sound of the crashing waves, there was only silence. It was peaceful, tranquil, serene. Perfect.
She allowed the water to flood over her ankles, making her shiver slightly as it lapped against her skin. Still, she ventured deeper, feeling the water reach her thighs and then her hips. All too soon, it was near her throat, like a rope tied loosely around her neck. Despite herself, she smiled. It was chillingly beautiful; the water numbed the pain that she had so carelessly inflicted upon herself.
She started to swim, creating small ripples in the glass like surface. Looking down, she saw outline of large rocks at the bottom of the water. But they were blurred and distorted from the liquid, so much that they almost seemed to be from a dream.
The water wasn’t shallow anymore, and neither were the cuts on her wrist. She found herself so far from the shore that the land seemed only like a thin line in the distance. And then it was gone. She dove under, feeling herself sink slowly and slowly into the darkness but not really caring. The darkness washed all of her worries away, gave her more than comfort than the crowded shallow end would ever provide.
She opened her eyes for one last time and saw the broken outline of the sun above the water’s surface. And then it was gone, and she found that the rest of the world was gone with it.
“Only stay in the shallow end,” they had said. But they were wrong. The deep waters were far, far more beautiful.
I stood ankle deep in the shallow, algae-choked water of the pond, watching as the half-rotten canoe bobbed along in the warm ripples. I didn’t know what to make of this place anymore. My brother had drowned after falling out of that canoe, in this very pond. But now I could wade in and not even have the water touch my chin, and it all felt so absurd.
I could see the smooth gray river rocks underneath the ripples of the shallow, cool water, sunlight refracting off of the liquid. I wish…I wish people were as transparent as these waters. Just as easily read, just as predictable. Just as innocuous.
She never liked the shallow end of the pool. It represented safety whereas the deep end, its bottom too far down to see, was a glistening challenge. She only stayed in the shallow end for as long as it took to get to those depths, their unknown quality the representation of everything she wanted her life to be.
his shallow heart swallows me up
false acclamations of love
hope strewn across the roof
of a hole in the wall house
and a bed
that I share unevenly with him
I am shallow, but I’m kind. I want a good looking man that makes me want to jump his bones all the time, but I also want someone that I can treat well and take care of when they are sick. I want someone I admire and that makes me want to be a better person. But I still want hot. I want passion.
Draco Malfoy is a shallow, shallow boy. So is Blair Parker. She likes lavishness and looks and clothing and hair and makeup and things that not every girl needs to be concerned with. In fact, most shouldn’t be. Odette isn’t. Sure, she has a fetish for nice hair, but that doesn’t make her shallow. Shallow also describes rivers. ruckfuckfuck.
shallow like one end of a pool. like my mind. filled merely with useless surface knowledge. nothing to offer. life sucking me dry. until shallow becomes empty.
her heart was shallow, shallow shallow and shallow, but it wasn’t as if he could hold the world in it, could he? she was dull and bland but he wasn’t sure if it was him or her. everyone said she held the depth of the ocean in her eyes, but her heart was as shallow as the waves crashing to shore. there was nothing there, nothing but the occasional tempest.
The shallow pond rippled with the waves of the wind as the hurricane swept by. Water splashed against the muddy bank, sifting the sands to reveal a shiny pearl.
When people meet me, many of them immediately assume that I am very shallow and arrogant because I am so quiet. The truth is, I’m mostly quiet because I actually have very little confidence, not because of an excess of it.
a small stream that trickle ith hope and desire, but its short lived. you can never hope for too much with shallowness, it gives a little and takes more than you could ever dream of. its beautiful if you dont think too much about it, but leaves you wanting at night
Lauren knew it was shallow, but she didn’t care. Chris looked good in his tuxedo– damn good. She snuck another glance at him. It was no wonder People magazine had voted him Sexiest Man Alive. He deserved it.
The girl’s hair was golden blonde, with brown streaks of her natural color coming through. The dye hadn’t taken as well as she had hoped this time, and she was anxious when she worried about what her friends would think about it. She bit her carefully manicured nail lightly.
Lauren didn’t want to be this shallow. But she was. She cared about how she looked, and she cared what other people thought about her, even strangers. It bothered her to see her picture on a magazine labeled “FAT.” Chris didn’t seem to think she was fat. In fact, she had caught him checking her out a number of times, though he tried to hide it.
The ocean was rigid beneath the glimmer of silver glow provided by the moon. Shallow waves harboured all the light of the moon.
bitter and sour. you feel the weight above from your head. you care about your own soul and not about your love’s souls. you care about youre own being which at times is okay.
Everyone is shallow I have their own way, I whether we realise it or not. But it’s not a bad thing, be shallow, make yourself happy, and love yourself. Don’t feel bad when someone says you’re shallow turn around and them you deserve to choose your own choices and make yourself happy.
She was Shallow. She was a product of her society, in a world when she had no choice but to pick one thing to be defined by for the rest of her life. She wasn’t gentle like her father, or strong like her mother. She was not as kind as her brother nor as charming as her sister. She was Shallow. And that was all she would ever be.
is the mind that wanders into thoughts of sex often enough that nothing else gets done. So many minds are like this and we all like to think we are better than that
I’ve always been shallow. Well that’s what my friends say. Always chasing after the good looking boys. Always wanting to be friends with the girls who’re popular. Shame that they don’t want to be friends with me or that the boys who like me are the swats. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers but I’d love just for once to be noticed. Wouldn’t that be fab?
She nearly cried in relief upon setting her sight on the river. The sun reflected off the shallow waters, making it seem even more inviting. Quickly, she approached, rushing to strip off her shoes and socks; aching to submerge her aching feet into the inviting water.
He seemed pretty shallow on the outside. Not really caring about others, nor even his friends, but was he really always like this? His eyes weren’t the ones of a indifferent person. They seemed more like the eyes of a suffering one, a lonely person who had nothing than himself for a long time. He looked toward me, to turn quickly soon after and walked away, alone in his hidden sadness.
The river came up to her shins, cloaking them in shimmery silk-like puffs as she waded in deeper and deeper. From time to time, fish would nip at her ankles, like little friends just trying to say hello.
Maia had no time to greet them back, though. Shivo, the person who had skinned her of her tail, lay on the other bank, and intel had told her that if she so much as dallied before the sun set today, she would lose him forever, along with the only thing that would allow her to return to the Sea.
And although each step felt like a million tiny knives piercing her skin – she should have listened to Ariel, crazy old blow fish as she was – she trudged on, for the bubbles strewn around her toes reminded her all the more of the home she’d left behind for Prince Kai, and there was nothing on this earth that would stop her from returning, now that she’d learned the error of her mistakes.
The bustling midday city crowd paid little attention to the malnourished children lying under the scorching heat. They wished to see a better future but couldn’t escape the vicious cycle of poverty.
Meanwhile, a car jostled about the road, stopping in front of a shallow pit.
The children hurried round the car, hoarding the black sedan like a bunch of excited bees. The shiny surface zoomed past them even before they could show their latest collection of fancy books.
The grave was shallow, did it matter? Was anyone really going to come across it all the way out here in the middle of the Forrest?
She took a second to look around her and consider her options, she could keep digging but risk loosing the light and being stuck out here or she could let it be and finally move on with her life
Decisions, decisions…..
argtsytrseytytyt
she was, without a care for others… or was it at the beach with the waters lapping, clear and warm before the change comes as ou head further out… where the rocks and stones are, where it can hurt
just like her and her shallow narrow barbs
Depth is a perception that is subjective in total. I tried to measure the depth and the shallow part was just too shallow to comprehend. I have no idea what the shallow end is even for. The depth is what matters.
his mind ripples like the water and i can’t see to the bottom;
i’m not sure he can either.
he is closed and he is cautious and he talks,
oh he says everything i want to hear,
and maybe he means it
but his mind is still just the river and i can’t see to the bottom.
i want to hold him close but i know
he will slip through my fingers
and i don’t even know where to begin.
The moon glisten across the shallow pool of gray. A hidden dark, light banished from the depths.
What a shallow asshole. This guy thinks that he can be drunk and ask me to do things for him. I have a boyfriend. That is not okay. Why am I even his friend in the first place? Well he is really nice to me, but I guess he only cares about one thing. What a shame. And no this has nothing to do with shallow. I am just venting.
She is very shallow. She walk into the room and stared around in the shallow water.
Shallow river, feet in cold. Pebbles bite the bare arches. River nymphs dance past calves, giggling as they tumble forth and crash against each other. The beat themselves against the stones and race downwards, laughing themselves away from the mountains and off to a distant sea.
I met a girl the other day, a girl by the sea who went by the name Anna-Marie. She took my hand and placed it underneath her open blouse upon her soft white breasts, she acknowledged my extravagant wealth and what a shallow cunt she was
The water was shallow enough that he could feel the fin along his spine graze the surface and cause ripples every now-and-then.
Turning over onto his back wouldn’t be easy, so he couldn’t admire the view of the cloudy sky from in the water as he swam. Instead, he had to settle for the view of the soft, sun-flecked sand that occasionally held rocks or shells within it.
The water was shallow, cold, frigid. She waded in cautiously, feeling the waves lap slowly against her legs. The sun shone softly from above, enveloping her in a comfortable warmth. Besides the sound of the crashing waves, there was only silence. It was peaceful, tranquil, serene. Perfect.
She allowed the water to flood over her ankles, making her shiver slightly as it lapped against her skin. Still, she ventured deeper, feeling the water reach her thighs and then her hips. All too soon, it was near her throat, like a rope tied loosely around her neck. Despite herself, she smiled. It was chillingly beautiful; the water numbed the pain that she had so carelessly inflicted upon herself.
She started to swim, creating small ripples in the glass like surface. Looking down, she saw outline of large rocks at the bottom of the water. But they were blurred and distorted from the liquid, so much that they almost seemed to be from a dream.
The water wasn’t shallow anymore, and neither were the cuts on her wrist. She found herself so far from the shore that the land seemed only like a thin line in the distance. And then it was gone. She dove under, feeling herself sink slowly and slowly into the darkness but not really caring. The darkness washed all of her worries away, gave her more than comfort than the crowded shallow end would ever provide.
She opened her eyes for one last time and saw the broken outline of the sun above the water’s surface. And then it was gone, and she found that the rest of the world was gone with it.
“Only stay in the shallow end,” they had said. But they were wrong. The deep waters were far, far more beautiful.
I stood ankle deep in the shallow, algae-choked water of the pond, watching as the half-rotten canoe bobbed along in the warm ripples. I didn’t know what to make of this place anymore. My brother had drowned after falling out of that canoe, in this very pond. But now I could wade in and not even have the water touch my chin, and it all felt so absurd.
I could see the smooth gray river rocks underneath the ripples of the shallow, cool water, sunlight refracting off of the liquid. I wish…I wish people were as transparent as these waters. Just as easily read, just as predictable. Just as innocuous.
People are shallow. They do stupid things and make stupid decisions and hurt each other. The world would be better if everyone didn’t hurt each other.
She never liked the shallow end of the pool. It represented safety whereas the deep end, its bottom too far down to see, was a glistening challenge. She only stayed in the shallow end for as long as it took to get to those depths, their unknown quality the representation of everything she wanted her life to be.
his shallow heart swallows me up
false acclamations of love
hope strewn across the roof
of a hole in the wall house
and a bed
that I share unevenly with him
I am shallow, but I’m kind. I want a good looking man that makes me want to jump his bones all the time, but I also want someone that I can treat well and take care of when they are sick. I want someone I admire and that makes me want to be a better person. But I still want hot. I want passion.
pond
The water’s fine, she said. It’s so shallow, she said.
Well, that’s a big sister for you. Now I think I’m drowning.
It’s sort of disembodied, like I’m outside myself and slipping away, the usual hysteria over, and now I’m going to die.
Draco Malfoy is a shallow, shallow boy. So is Blair Parker. She likes lavishness and looks and clothing and hair and makeup and things that not every girl needs to be concerned with. In fact, most shouldn’t be. Odette isn’t. Sure, she has a fetish for nice hair, but that doesn’t make her shallow. Shallow also describes rivers. ruckfuckfuck.
shallow like one end of a pool. like my mind. filled merely with useless surface knowledge. nothing to offer. life sucking me dry. until shallow becomes empty.
her heart was shallow, shallow shallow and shallow, but it wasn’t as if he could hold the world in it, could he? she was dull and bland but he wasn’t sure if it was him or her. everyone said she held the depth of the ocean in her eyes, but her heart was as shallow as the waves crashing to shore. there was nothing there, nothing but the occasional tempest.
The shallow pond rippled with the waves of the wind as the hurricane swept by. Water splashed against the muddy bank, sifting the sands to reveal a shiny pearl.
When people meet me, many of them immediately assume that I am very shallow and arrogant because I am so quiet. The truth is, I’m mostly quiet because I actually have very little confidence, not because of an excess of it.
not sure what I’m meant to say here, but this was interesting to do at any rate.
a small stream that trickle ith hope and desire, but its short lived. you can never hope for too much with shallowness, it gives a little and takes more than you could ever dream of. its beautiful if you dont think too much about it, but leaves you wanting at night
Lauren knew it was shallow, but she didn’t care. Chris looked good in his tuxedo– damn good. She snuck another glance at him. It was no wonder People magazine had voted him Sexiest Man Alive. He deserved it.
The girl’s hair was golden blonde, with brown streaks of her natural color coming through. The dye hadn’t taken as well as she had hoped this time, and she was anxious when she worried about what her friends would think about it. She bit her carefully manicured nail lightly.
Lauren didn’t want to be this shallow. But she was. She cared about how she looked, and she cared what other people thought about her, even strangers. It bothered her to see her picture on a magazine labeled “FAT.” Chris didn’t seem to think she was fat. In fact, she had caught him checking her out a number of times, though he tried to hide it.