oneword.com

Baby, a word that is used to describe many things that both uplift and diminish. My “dear baby” used in love. My “baby sister”, to describe a 42 year old, somewhat dimishing. “She’s such a baby” diminshing comment.

The most important thing about the word baby is the image it conjures up… a sweet, loving, innocent, good smelling, new life.

Posted By Jeanette On 01.29.2013 @ 1:29 pm

Today is a gool day, both physically and metaphorically. I am at a conference and have met a lot of great people…cool! I took pictures of participants that are from Mississippi in the snow…cool! I am in NY and not Ohio…cool! Today is a way cool day.

Posted By Jeanette On 01.28.2013 @ 10:40 am

Somebody I care for can’t care for me back. I want them back…I want them back.

Posted By Jeanette On 11.12.2012 @ 6:47 pm

I’m not good at drawing, but you are. You tell me I am because you do things like that .

Posted By Jeanette On 11.11.2012 @ 5:09 pm

They protect themselves from each other. They fear being together.

Posted By Jeanette On 11.08.2012 @ 4:11 pm

I can’t see a thing, but worse… it feels sticky and my hair is frizzing.

Posted By jeanette On 08.17.2012 @ 6:24 pm

i was in the zone that day. Oh me, oh my ! that game was the time of my life. being in the zone is like being in a different time. It’s all power, all strength, all sense. I was like my body floated away, only leaving my soul, with its surroundings. It was beauty in its truest form. Divine in all divinity.

Posted By Jeanette On 08.16.2012 @ 1:10 am

The principal was still at his school, he was there when I was a child and still the same caring and devoted man he always has been. Loyal and trust worthy, he was honest and fair.

Posted By Jeanette On 07.29.2012 @ 5:10 pm

It ends at some point and begins at one but the whereabouts unknown. lets leave. lets follow it to where ever it may lead hopefully far from this place euphoric

Posted By jeanette On 07.03.2012 @ 11:55 pm

I don’t like to dwell on things that I cannot change. We all know that sometimes, plans, situations, and many other things just do not go the way we imagine them to go. but sometimes, the end result is better than we ever could have dreamed.

Posted By Jeanette On 06.23.2012 @ 12:15 pm

Some big noise swanning around in a big jag. I stand back waving a union jack. The mayor sees me. Lots of photographers clicking and mingling. A sea of people, autograph hunters, as the mayor escapes down a narrow street.

Posted By Jeanette On 06.15.2012 @ 3:39 pm

shelter is a place where you are safe from the storm. hopefully someone is there with you. sometimes shelter is someone. hopefully that someone is the one. the best kind of shelter is warm and dry, and kind and gentle. and if that someone wraps you in an afghan blanket and kisses you as you drift off to sleep.

Posted By Jeanette On 02.19.2012 @ 5:48 am

shelter is a place where you are safe from the storm. and hopefully someone is there with you. sometimes shelter is someone. hopefully that someone is the one. the best kind of shelter is warm and kind and dry, and wraps you in an afghan blanket as you drift off to sleep.

Posted By Jeanette On 02.19.2012 @ 5:44 am

I could see the savage smashing through the trees. He was a huge black man but he was not really a savage. He just lived in the jungle and hunted fish for his family.

Posted By Jeanette On 01.09.2012 @ 1:48 pm

I looked at the skyline. It was so white. It did not want to acknowledge the sky. Aunty Joyce lay in a beautiful brown coffin. I saw the luxury red roses on top. I did not throw in flowers or dirt. I stood by the edge about to burst into tears. Johnny drifted past, just to see his mother, one last time. I looked at Gran. Goodbye Aunty Joyce.

Posted By Jeanette On 11.30.2011 @ 7:36 am

its like defining normal. its not possible. everyone has there own version of it. but nobody really knows what is right and what is not. its what wars are started over. everyone wants to be right.. but nobody really knows. just do what feels right. follow your instincts.

Posted By jeanette On 10.04.2011 @ 11:26 pm

blank insperation beauty empty creative

Posted By jeanette On 08.07.2011 @ 6:29 pm

you’re not on my level. a level is what people use to make sure things are straight. having your life be level is vital to your existance and stuff. I don’t know what else to write. Kill me nowwww! level level level level level level level stuff stuff i’m so bored out of my damn mind. someone help meeeeee. Please unicorns eat tacos with meeeeeeeeee. Hahaha how funnny

Posted By Jeanette On 08.03.2011 @ 1:24 pm

I have flown in my dreams. I’m certain. I saw the front of my flat as I sped down the street. It was spooky. I was weightless, free, so effortless like I was this feather that belonged in a limitless meadow. I would love to have wings. Imagine being able to fly at will. An amazing wow experience!

Posted By Jeanette On 08.01.2011 @ 7:07 am

Wade was a lovely man. He was handsome. A marvellous man, always telling jokes, teasing, pulling your leg, so soft but he was excellent at touch football, rugby. He loved being by the sea. He used to go in up to his waist then splash about with his friends for ages.

Posted By Jeanette On 06.30.2011 @ 3:02 am

I remember Keith telling Tony to paint him a picture. It was his father’s art set. Keith gave it to Tony as a present. Keith kept asking me, “Has Tony painted me a picture yet? I am looking forward to it. You said he was good.”. My brother painted a copy of The Mona Lisa in the seventies. It was fabulous. Unfortunately Keith died and he never did get around to painting a picture for Keith. What a shame!

Posted By Jeanette On 06.07.2011 @ 8:47 am

Scot’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere and he did not have a torch. He got out of his sleek red sports car and looked around. It was pitch black. He thought of walking to the nearest pub but that was a mile away. Suddenly there was a flash of light as van swung into view.

Posted By Jeanette On 05.26.2011 @ 9:02 am

i want success but i dont think that i know how to get it but sometimes i know i will. other days im not too sure. all i know is that i am going to make something of myself and nobody will stop me. the only thing stopping me is me. life is too short to worry about making it or not. just DO IT.

Posted By jeanette On 04.04.2011 @ 9:36 pm

I love the taste of chocolate. That rich sweet dark feel of floating slabs of delight but chocolate gives me spots, wobbly teeth but I still love to eat it. Once I ate a whole bar of fruit and nut. Abit greedy, considering it was the giant family bar. Oops!

Posted By Jeanette On 02.15.2011 @ 7:51 am

There was a problem. It was there, before me. I had to do something about it. As I clutched the Rubik’s Cube in my hand, there was only one thing I could do. Quickly turning the cubes sides… it was solved.

Posted By Jeanette On 01.23.2011 @ 9:16 pm

there was a drain that was clogged. but i unclogged it. im okay now. better than anything in this world. im not drowning in you anymore. thank you for giving me the courage of unclogging.

Posted By Jeanette On 01.17.2011 @ 9:37 am

i wa crossing the track and I saw a train comming

Posted By jeanette On 11.24.2010 @ 5:56 am

Red velvet was her favorite kind of cake. “Blue Velvet” her favorite movie. The episode of Seinfeld in which George wants to wrap himself in velvet her favorite movie; we worried about her, as we were all cotton people.

Posted By Jeanette On 06.27.2010 @ 4:45 am

Her moods ebbed and flowed. She would one day ride the crest of a hormonal tidal wave and do something she couldn’t undo, some act of violence. Some act of hatred and rage that would probably come in a verbal form and words would become projectiles aimed at those she loved. The wave would crash over them, destroying anyone who wasn’t firmly anchored in her life, and when it was over, only those most steadfast would remain.

Posted By Jeanette On 06.23.2010 @ 5:06 am

My mother gave me a red balloon at a fun fair. I was really excited. I gripped the pink string in my right hand. The fun fair was packed with excited children. I wanted to go on the magic roundabout. My mother helped me on to one of the horses. I forgot about my red balloon. The pink string slipped from my hand and the next then I knew, it was sailing across the bumper cars, the ghost house then being tossed by a few kids before finally escaping.

Posted By Jeanette On 05.20.2010 @ 3:21 am