Where feelings can be worn and damaged. When the word sleeve comes to mind I think of how many times I’ve worn my feelings on them and I’ve been drug through the mud, left, hurt, or used for doing so because I have that ‘nice guy’ mentality and get taken advantage of.
“And now, for my final trick, I will pull the classic stuff. Here’s a rabbit out of my hat!” The magician reached his hand into his hat and pulled out a rabbit as he predicted.
The audience roared. Except one person, bent on exposing his trick, stared at the magician and noticed something different up his sleeve.
He pointed. “Look!”
The magician laughed and pulled several more rabbits out of the hat, followed by a demonic spawn from his overcoat.
his sleeve. he wears his heart on his sleeve. maybe thats a good thing, well because i do too. he’s wearing a blue shirt. he looks breath taking. i don’t want to break his heart, but it seems like he wants me too, so i’ll play along. the girlfriend. the girl. his girl. until something drastic happens and then it’s all over. no longer the girlfriend. just the girl friend.
Despite his loss he still had something up his sleeve, something he could pull out of the bag, the bag that had seemed empty and was now about to be full again, fuller than a tin of sardines that came from the salty sea where the sparkling water mirrored the fresh hope in his eyes as he took a deep breath and went for the win.
I just love to be wrapped up with this Oneword habit. It keeps me on my toes and it clear my mind also. so keep up the good work and high standard that you have establish.
The problem with having a new shirt or suit, is that no sooner as you wear it for about ten times, you have to discard it because the sleeve will get shorter, as your hands seem to grow even faster.
My sleeve is long. I pull it a lot. Its always cold in the office. And if I pull it down, I feel like the cold airconditioned air is less likely to affect me. It doesn’t help though.
I already did this one so we are just goig to write random things until the timer is done and we won’t use proper calpitalization or puncuation at all or spelling becasue one, i don’t care and two, I don’t know how to spell. well look the first periond good for me because
He had known there was something wrong from the moment they walked in the door. It was nothing clear-cut, nothing he could bring them up on. But still, it was there. A wayward twitch of their fingers. A dried stain on their shirt, a crumpled sleeve. That look.
I put the piano piece’s music into the sleeve. Actually, do you know what? In the movie Soul-surfer the girl acting like Bethany Hamilton used a green sleeve to make it look like she doesn’t have an arm. Clever, huh.
underfoot and under wraps. you could have stuffed me up your cuffs like a magician’s trick and i’d have sat there until you decided it was time to put on a show. but the trick got old and even fake flowers have to be thrown away eventually, so. so. so. you threw me away, too.
He brushed her face with his shirtsleeve. Some of her makeup came off in the process. He looked down to see the smear of orange foundation, and he smiled. He wanted to remember this moment. A moment where she was real.
they were resting ever so gently in her sleeves. the weight as she moved pulled her arms down but she kept up the appearances. The king would not expect a simple serving girl to pull out a knife as she fed him his grapes.
every word i write is not gold, and these are sentences that are not worthy of being sleeve tattoos. but i don’t understand that, and ive caved to monumental pressures that are only borne by young people, not because they’re strong, but because they haven’t been crushed by their parents’ almosts and failures and regrets yet. yet.
It’s wet. I’ve got my drink on it, haven’t I? Clumsy bitch. I grab on it, it’s so constricting, choking my wrist. I look around, put it in my pocket so nobody sees.
Her sleeve tore off. The branch whipped and flung it across the forest into a pile of mud. She sighed, shook her head, and continued stumbling down the path.
Ketchup on my sleeve, coffee on my pants, still not going to change when I join my friends to dance. There’ll be whiskey sloshed around, and beer spilled on the ground, and I’ll just swirl with all the stains and never form a frown. I’ll go home with the smears, my make-up wet like tears, the splatters of all three meals as I sleep for thirty years.
I have a sleeve on my pjs that is short i like three quarter sleeves better. I wisjh i could go sleeveless and not feel so flabby but that may never happen whaqt looks the best on me is three quarter I have a jacket that is three quarter with cuffs It is brown and it loks casual but smarr.I wonder what the purpose of this site is bedause it didn’t do anything when i pressed the last buton. It seeems it might be useful abut i can’t really tell.
If Nate is wearing a t-shirt you can see the slight protrusion of his tattoo sleeve. On one side, you’ll find an eagle clutching an American flag in its grip. On the back of his arms, it reads “Live Free Or Die.” I always feel lucky to know what the whole quote is, because you can’t see it all, and where the rest of the tattoos are underneath.
sometimes it’s hard for me to put on my own clothes and shove my arms through the empty sleeves that aren’t yours. it used to be so simple, wrapping myself in linens that smelled like you, knowing you would later touch me and it would feel as simple as my skin on cotton.
“Wear your heart on your sleeve” is a saying I’ve heard many times. Since I don’t understand the meaning of it, I’ve sewn hearts onto all the sleeves of my shirts and sweaters to see if it helps.
I wiped my tears on my sleeve. My heart seem to sank low into a dark abyss. I couldn’t make out what just happened. I felt betrayed, disgusted, fooled. I know things happen for a reason but I didn’t understand it this time.
It was a hot Sunday afternoon, Jesse was wearing a long sleeve shirt, it got to hot so instead of taking it off he rolled up the sleeves, when he got home from the market, he pit on a sleeveless shirt then went to the movies, he watched guardians of the galaxy with his friends, afterwards they all went out for lunch, before returning home,
It was a hot Sunday afternoon, Jesse was wearing a long sleeve shirt, it got to hot so instead of taking it off he rolled up the sleeves, when he got home from the market, he pit on a sleeveless shirt then went to the movies
He walks into the conference room with an officious attitude. Typical. I’d heard stories about him from some of the techs back at home office. He’s got a taste for certain types of afterhours activities.
Regardless, his suit is impeccably pressed and the sleeves adorn with expensive, yet simple cuff links. The sort that don’t flash like new money, but still signal that a memmber of the 1% stood in the flesh with the rest of us. Even his manner of introduction, formal handshakes down the line, seems oily too.
When his hand extends towards me, I refuse to shake it. “Sorry, fist pig,” and here his eyes betray his otherwise unruffled exterior, “but your reputation precedes you.”
In the wake of gasps, I excuse myself. My role in this transaction is superfluous and my skillet irreplaceable. Perhaps Miranda will think twice before pulling me off my project to play at a game, which does not concern me.
His sleeves were rolled to just beyond his elbow, giving me access to his bare forearm and the hints of black ink which reached beyond the leather of his jacket. I was mesmerized
A sleeve seems to just be an area used for collecting liquids; this is inclusive of snot, dribble and tears with the occasional addition of pizza dough or cookie mixture if I’m feeling exotic.
The sleeve of his jacket was caught on something and he couldn’t free his arm to work it out. In the overwhelming darkness he reached his other hand over to release it and was disturbed to run his fingers over something scaly, fleshy, and unmistakably alive.
I love wearing sleeves. I think my arms are fat so they are my shield. I also hate people who wear their feelings on their sleeve. Stupid people. lol jk but really sleeves are very usual for many reasons.
Where feelings can be worn and damaged. When the word sleeve comes to mind I think of how many times I’ve worn my feelings on them and I’ve been drug through the mud, left, hurt, or used for doing so because I have that ‘nice guy’ mentality and get taken advantage of.
“And now, for my final trick, I will pull the classic stuff. Here’s a rabbit out of my hat!” The magician reached his hand into his hat and pulled out a rabbit as he predicted.
The audience roared. Except one person, bent on exposing his trick, stared at the magician and noticed something different up his sleeve.
He pointed. “Look!”
The magician laughed and pulled several more rabbits out of the hat, followed by a demonic spawn from his overcoat.
I dont know this words meaning!!!
What does it mean?
Is itvrrelative ti slave?
The man staggered around the empty street. With both shirtsleeves torn like that, he looked as if he’d just gotten into an awful dog fight.
his sleeve. he wears his heart on his sleeve. maybe thats a good thing, well because i do too. he’s wearing a blue shirt. he looks breath taking. i don’t want to break his heart, but it seems like he wants me too, so i’ll play along. the girlfriend. the girl. his girl. until something drastic happens and then it’s all over. no longer the girlfriend. just the girl friend.
Despite his loss he still had something up his sleeve, something he could pull out of the bag, the bag that had seemed empty and was now about to be full again, fuller than a tin of sardines that came from the salty sea where the sparkling water mirrored the fresh hope in his eyes as he took a deep breath and went for the win.
I just love to be wrapped up with this Oneword habit. It keeps me on my toes and it clear my mind also. so keep up the good work and high standard that you have establish.
The problem with having a new shirt or suit, is that no sooner as you wear it for about ten times, you have to discard it because the sleeve will get shorter, as your hands seem to grow even faster.
My sleeve is long. I pull it a lot. Its always cold in the office. And if I pull it down, I feel like the cold airconditioned air is less likely to affect me. It doesn’t help though.
sleeve is a part of garment that wholly or partially covers a persons arm.
dear god i messed up
I already did this one so we are just goig to write random things until the timer is done and we won’t use proper calpitalization or puncuation at all or spelling becasue one, i don’t care and two, I don’t know how to spell. well look the first periond good for me because
He had known there was something wrong from the moment they walked in the door. It was nothing clear-cut, nothing he could bring them up on. But still, it was there. A wayward twitch of their fingers. A dried stain on their shirt, a crumpled sleeve. That look.
I put the piano piece’s music into the sleeve. Actually, do you know what? In the movie Soul-surfer the girl acting like Bethany Hamilton used a green sleeve to make it look like she doesn’t have an arm. Clever, huh.
Coiled to my elbows, my sleeves poised the effort i was exerting as i slowly made my way upward, toward the peak. It was cold,
underfoot and under wraps. you could have stuffed me up your cuffs like a magician’s trick and i’d have sat there until you decided it was time to put on a show. but the trick got old and even fake flowers have to be thrown away eventually, so. so. so. you threw me away, too.
He brushed her face with his shirtsleeve. Some of her makeup came off in the process. He looked down to see the smear of orange foundation, and he smiled. He wanted to remember this moment. A moment where she was real.
they were resting ever so gently in her sleeves. the weight as she moved pulled her arms down but she kept up the appearances. The king would not expect a simple serving girl to pull out a knife as she fed him his grapes.
every word i write is not gold, and these are sentences that are not worthy of being sleeve tattoos. but i don’t understand that, and ive caved to monumental pressures that are only borne by young people, not because they’re strong, but because they haven’t been crushed by their parents’ almosts and failures and regrets yet. yet.
The sleeve was ragged at the end. The wearer was dirty little girl, brown hair hanging in strings.
She didn’t speak; just followed. eyes begging.
It’s wet. I’ve got my drink on it, haven’t I? Clumsy bitch. I grab on it, it’s so constricting, choking my wrist. I look around, put it in my pocket so nobody sees.
Her sleeve tore off. The branch whipped and flung it across the forest into a pile of mud. She sighed, shook her head, and continued stumbling down the path.
Ketchup on my sleeve, coffee on my pants, still not going to change when I join my friends to dance. There’ll be whiskey sloshed around, and beer spilled on the ground, and I’ll just swirl with all the stains and never form a frown. I’ll go home with the smears, my make-up wet like tears, the splatters of all three meals as I sleep for thirty years.
I have a sleeve on my pjs that is short i like three quarter sleeves better. I wisjh i could go sleeveless and not feel so flabby but that may never happen whaqt looks the best on me is three quarter I have a jacket that is three quarter with cuffs It is brown and it loks casual but smarr.I wonder what the purpose of this site is bedause it didn’t do anything when i pressed the last buton. It seeems it might be useful abut i can’t really tell.
If Nate is wearing a t-shirt you can see the slight protrusion of his tattoo sleeve. On one side, you’ll find an eagle clutching an American flag in its grip. On the back of his arms, it reads “Live Free Or Die.” I always feel lucky to know what the whole quote is, because you can’t see it all, and where the rest of the tattoos are underneath.
“Don’t do that, it’s disgusting” I said to my girlfriend as she wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“Oh don’t start with me” she retorted back.
sometimes it’s hard for me to put on my own clothes and shove my arms through the empty sleeves that aren’t yours. it used to be so simple, wrapping myself in linens that smelled like you, knowing you would later touch me and it would feel as simple as my skin on cotton.
“Wear your heart on your sleeve” is a saying I’ve heard many times. Since I don’t understand the meaning of it, I’ve sewn hearts onto all the sleeves of my shirts and sweaters to see if it helps.
I wiped my tears on my sleeve. My heart seem to sank low into a dark abyss. I couldn’t make out what just happened. I felt betrayed, disgusted, fooled. I know things happen for a reason but I didn’t understand it this time.
Wait…where did that go? I watched closely. Ahhh! Is that an Ace peeking out of his sleeve?
I am going to roll up my sleeves so I can go tickle that pig in the mud! *Laughs* Running, getting close
It was a hot Sunday afternoon, Jesse was wearing a long sleeve shirt, it got to hot so instead of taking it off he rolled up the sleeves, when he got home from the market, he pit on a sleeveless shirt then went to the movies, he watched guardians of the galaxy with his friends, afterwards they all went out for lunch, before returning home,
It was a hot Sunday afternoon, Jesse was wearing a long sleeve shirt, it got to hot so instead of taking it off he rolled up the sleeves, when he got home from the market, he pit on a sleeveless shirt then went to the movies
The gun slid back into it’s holster like a sleeve. No one saw him draw.
He walks into the conference room with an officious attitude. Typical. I’d heard stories about him from some of the techs back at home office. He’s got a taste for certain types of afterhours activities.
Regardless, his suit is impeccably pressed and the sleeves adorn with expensive, yet simple cuff links. The sort that don’t flash like new money, but still signal that a memmber of the 1% stood in the flesh with the rest of us. Even his manner of introduction, formal handshakes down the line, seems oily too.
When his hand extends towards me, I refuse to shake it. “Sorry, fist pig,” and here his eyes betray his otherwise unruffled exterior, “but your reputation precedes you.”
In the wake of gasps, I excuse myself. My role in this transaction is superfluous and my skillet irreplaceable. Perhaps Miranda will think twice before pulling me off my project to play at a game, which does not concern me.
Sleeve is a funny word. Long, protective, what is up it? It can be taken several different ways and I can tell I need
His sleeves were rolled to just beyond his elbow, giving me access to his bare forearm and the hints of black ink which reached beyond the leather of his jacket. I was mesmerized
A sleeve seems to just be an area used for collecting liquids; this is inclusive of snot, dribble and tears with the occasional addition of pizza dough or cookie mixture if I’m feeling exotic.
The sleeve of his jacket was caught on something and he couldn’t free his arm to work it out. In the overwhelming darkness he reached his other hand over to release it and was disturbed to run his fingers over something scaly, fleshy, and unmistakably alive.
I love wearing sleeves. I think my arms are fat so they are my shield. I also hate people who wear their feelings on their sleeve. Stupid people. lol jk but really sleeves are very usual for many reasons.