oneword.com

design studios are ought to be the second most comfortable spaces(first being your home). only if you are comfortable therein, then you can think of being creative ad innovate!

Posted By divya On 08.21.2012 @ 11:00 am

”Did you enjoy your dinner sweetheart” said Mum. ”Yes mummy it was yummy, thank you!” That includes manners say thank you.

Posted By Divya On 08.10.2012 @ 8:31 am

You have to be nice and caring. Say ”thank you” And other things that are polite be nice and stuff its a very good this to have manners. Manners is an impotantant thing to have.

Posted By Divya On 08.10.2012 @ 8:27 am

this is a very controversial word, don’t you think? THE FIRST THING IT REMINDS ME OF IS ONE REPUBLIC’S SONG THOUGH. Secrets are scary, and the more you have, the more you know you’re fucked up. True friends keep secrets, for life.

Posted By divya On 08.03.2012 @ 2:31 pm

Wasn’t this word here before? Oh well.

Icing is yummy, glossing, and white. Looks kinda like toothpaste but much thinner and sweeter. I love icing and I wish I had some in a cinnamon bun. Maybe I should go to Cinnabon.

Posted By Divya On 07.23.2012 @ 12:56 am

Sometimes suggestions can be a double edged sword. They can be said as a means to help someone while also being cruel in the aspect that its pointing a person’s flaw. Whether to take a suggestion or not depends entirely on the pride of the person receiving the barb.

Posted By Divya On 07.11.2012 @ 9:45 am

The fumes fizzed and the bubbles popped. Dangerous liquids sloshed in squeaky clean beakers. A heap of metal was tossed aside, in need of a good shine. I ran furious hands through my knotted mass of hair and set the monkey wrench aside, tasting the loneliness on my tongue. Even us mad scientists need to love.

Posted By Divya On 07.05.2012 @ 1:21 pm

the food you have between breakfast and lunch time.

Posted By Divya On 03.09.2012 @ 12:43 am

i hate when there is a downpour of rain. it gets me wet and i have to make an effort to get out my umbrella which annoys me. i hate when there is a downour of hail and thunder. it scares me and i also hate having a downpur of snow. snow is really cold and it annoys me because it is so cold.

Posted By Divya On 11.04.2011 @ 1:19 pm

The hem of your velvet skirt darkens as you take your first step Into the soft surrender of the waves. You kneel solemn, As the darkness saturates its path through your burgundy beauty. Closer, Ever closer. Your body For your sanity.

Posted By Divya On 10.30.2011 @ 2:38 am

i use an iron to take the wrinkles out of my clothes. there’s iron in my blood. you can see it line and pulse through my cardiac chambers. iron willed. iron hand. iron clad.

Posted By Divya On 10.10.2011 @ 4:51 am

Her bare body languished before him, speckled with sunlight, begging to be realised in oil paint.

Posted By Divya On 07.29.2011 @ 6:18 pm

He waded into the shallow pool, water flicking it’s cool tongue over his bare ankles. Cautious, cautious, he told himself. Better to be cautious.

Posted By Divya On 06.30.2011 @ 5:37 am

i held panda in my hands for the first time in august of 2008 she was so small so fragile so curious she licked my hand with her little tongue and then she peed on me it was funny then she jumped out of my hands and ran into her cage now look at her shes three years old in two months in two months she’s going to be so adorable on her birthday

Posted By Divya On 06.19.2011 @ 5:45 pm

She was his everything. He was consumed in her, lost in her thoughts, in her dreams, in her soft hair. His life revolved around her, and what he could do for her.. it was always a different point on the compass of her centre.. never away, just around.

Posted By Divya On 06.13.2011 @ 3:37 am

Beloved. Be-loved. I want to be loved. I’m sure you do, too. Maybe I can try do your raw, untainted expectations justice? And maybe, in turn, you can soften the world-weariness of mine.

Posted By Divya On 06.13.2011 @ 3:32 am

Every person in this world will be forgetting something in some time.

Posted By Divya On 06.08.2011 @ 5:45 am

She would float off by herself, in herself. On sunny days that crinkled like eyes, she would sit by the river with her blue radio. She would sing songs that filled her up, but left her feeling empty.

Posted By Divya On 06.04.2011 @ 1:17 am

Her honey breath stroked his face; they were so close that he could see his own eyes reflected in her . A soft coil of gold settled on his neck as she tilted her face towards him, her lips brushing the rough outline of his jaw.

Posted By Divya On 05.29.2011 @ 8:00 pm

The brisk air was like a slap against her face after the drowsy warmth of the fire. It stung, in a lovely way.

Posted By Divya On 05.27.2011 @ 5:24 pm

Her hair clouded around her, a incandescent mane of fire and gold. It was magnificent, the physically manifested enigma surrounding her. The tip of a match, ignited. A spark, a flame. A brilliance.

Posted By Divya On 05.26.2011 @ 3:23 am

It started with a ballot. A single fateful slip into the depths of the scratched and well-used box, echoed in various booths around the nation. One ballot, multiplied in number by force and whispered threats. His gentle demeanour and soft promises couldn’t be matched by the sheer power and brutal force of the opposition.

Posted By Divya On 05.25.2011 @ 3:48 am

She lay twisted around him like a winding path. Her hair rose lightly, as it caught on her wine stained breath. She was beautiful in her disarray. She was wondrous in her cacophonous jungle of being.

Posted By Divya On 05.23.2011 @ 5:18 am

Her tongue twisted around the words she ached to say, a pretzel of emotion. A simple eight syllables, that she knew would either his hand from hers as though scalded, or make him draw her in closer. The swirling cacophony of emotions. This tumultuous moment.

Posted By Divya On 05.22.2011 @ 11:43 pm

His harsh glare is full of emptiness. Her skin, slick with sweat. Her eyes, dead a long time ago. She flinches as his heavy arms swing toward her, aim numbed by drunken rage.

She is fallen. Broken.

In the whispered promise of the night, she flees.

Posted By Divya On 05.20.2011 @ 1:03 am

It started with a mole. A dark spot on the side of her swan neck. She had scratched at it, her fingers staining red. How ironic, how poetic, he thought, that the first signs of her ugly death had surfaced on the most beautiful part of her body.

Posted By Divya On 05.18.2011 @ 11:59 pm

Fucking chemistry. The bane of my existence. Srsly. Kill me now. The moment when the meaning of ‘mole’ went from small furry underground animal to ratios and shit. Gahhhh.

Posted By Divya On 05.18.2011 @ 11:52 pm

The dangling sliver of meat hung dejectedly, suffusing the air with the stench of warmth and bloody rawness. A small dog traced circles below it. Watching. Waiting. Temptation overtaking.

Posted By Divya On 05.18.2011 @ 2:47 am

She is beautiful. Spirited. Bursting at the seams with wild youth. Curiosity overtakes her mind at times, gets her past locked doors and into sticky-sweet situations. Nevertheless, she is breathtakingly alive. And I want that.

Posted By Divya On 05.17.2011 @ 1:16 am

A slip of paper swam in the wind. He, following it’s indecisive swaying with his eyes, reached for it. As he clutched the wayward paper in his hand, he twitched with anticipation at what he might soon know. A lover’s sweet words. A child’s spelling list. A thinker’s meanderings into his own mind. A puzzle, a clue, a path. A ragged edge marked the boundary of what he would soon know. A list of things forgotten.

Posted By Divya On 05.15.2011 @ 11:43 pm