oneword.com

Bearings, direction, and purpose everything you think about when referring to your universal compass. We always need to know where we are going in life and imagine our destination until we get there. As long as our drive is sincere our compass will always be pointed in the correct direction.

Posted By Q On 01.12.2013 @ 10:44 pm

i got this word last time. i don’t like squares. i said that last time. remember? of course not. well as i was saying squares are far too logical for me.

Posted By Q On 11.23.2012 @ 12:56 pm

shh dont tell everyone wants to know mine but i cant tell or else it wont be one if i tell you it would be ours dont tell anyone else otherwise it wont be

I love you

Posted By q On 08.03.2012 @ 10:08 pm

The time has come. I am switching from a mediocre telecommunication provider to another (even more) mediocre telecommunication provider. The reason for switching is because there are supposed savings to enjoy. Oh well.

Posted By Q On 06.11.2012 @ 7:34 pm

In time to come, the racket will be rid of cobwebs and algae. It’s a practical wall-decoration currently, and it seems happy to be one.

Posted By q On 06.11.2012 @ 2:57 am

The swing hung in all it’s desolate metal glory in the chilly back yard. Angel thought sadly to when they were little, and Jessie used to fight her for that swing. She missed her twin so badly she felt as though hot coals were multiplying on her chest. She wiped away bitter tears of emotional acid as she remembered….

Posted By Q On 03.06.2012 @ 1:59 pm

The lantern held a single candle and Joel’s fate inside it. He readied himself, and threw it into the gasoline puddle. Then, he ducked his head and ran, saying good-bye silently to the empty home he had once loved. When dawn finally emerged, he was a new, free man.

Posted By Q On 03.01.2012 @ 5:41 pm

There are walls in my house. There are walls in my school. I like walls. Walls are awesome because they are like a wall. :)

Posted By Q On 02.08.2012 @ 9:55 am

a lonley blackishsilvery rock, faceted, in a white room. minimalism. the playing cards are a tripe and conventional thing, a throw to popular culture, a throw to the game. a white room. it’s mostly empty. “Again with the sense of, all the representations we can ask for, can muster for tragedy, ecstasy, doom…”

Posted By Q On 11.17.2011 @ 1:38 pm

Toby looked left, saw Jackson there, beaming at him though his one hand was on the wheel, the other across the gear shift, holding one of Toby’s. “Good night, right?”

Posted By Q On 11.15.2011 @ 9:31 pm

there is a diamond sparkle in the glimmer of your eye, the dark curl of lashes from which a glance leaps off of. you have the most profound lips. your gaze wilts the legs of men and slays the confidence of women. flashbang.

Posted By Q On 11.02.2011 @ 12:04 pm

still. still waters (a mental image) clifford still makes a painting that looks like water dripping or paint painting on its own, or bird shit, given uncreatively as a wedding present in 1945 – Untitled. mind blank. abstract expressionism.

Posted By Q On 10.27.2011 @ 2:24 pm

my hand in yours is what i’m picturing. gently clasped on a spring day, both of ours tucked in your pocket on a cold day when winter nips at our heels, or linked by just one figure on days when we’re sweating bullets because the sun is trying to kill us but we still want that mutual contact.

Posted By Q On 10.18.2011 @ 11:59 am

red blanket. it unfolds, soft, velvety, fleecy, warm. I hold your hand underneath it, this physical thing, this embodied compassion. i chase your fingertips until I catch them, your fingers entangled in mine. soft. i love that warmth, the soft, pliant flesh.

Posted By Q On 10.13.2011 @ 2:37 pm

She lays low in a bed of thistles, fingers clenched around a rudimentary weapon of bone and sinew. Her hair is white and wild and spreads like a cloudy halo over her face. Her skin is milky porcelain and her eyes are vibrant, bright blue and alive. She looks delicate, but she is fierce, a warrior.

Posted By Q On 09.20.2011 @ 11:14 am

concern is a really great word for me right now because I am absolutely drowning in it. It consumes me even when I have my back turned and it reaches its spiraling tendrils out to capture those around me, those whom i love, those who love me. Concern has me wrapped in its spindly grip and bit by bit i am unraveling its bony fingers. it’s a process.

Posted By Q On 09.19.2011 @ 10:25 am

fair trade. an ocean. a people across a sea. they produce and we as consumers dutifully consume. a fair trade. In older days, in a time where things may not have been so greedy, a fair trade was a loaf of bread for some potatoes. or something. i wouldn’t know. still, i find myself wishing money wasn’t everything, and a fair trade would consist of a smile and some good manners.

Posted By Q On 09.12.2011 @ 8:14 pm

i am a sponge and i soak up knowledge, i soak up the sun. on rainy days, i soak up the rain. i am the epitome of taking, retaining. i am flexible, i am human, i am organic.

Posted By Q On 09.01.2011 @ 2:33 pm

It’s a silk running river all blue and shining and rippling in the sunlight. It’s a clear picture; the sky is so pale it’s almost white and the clouds are wisps, babies’ breaths on an open canvas that stretches above us. I’m holding your hand. We’re lying in the grass that’s lush as velvet. We’ve got stitched smiles. We’ve got glass buttons for eyes. We’re perfect as porcelain dolls.

Posted By Q On 08.23.2011 @ 4:16 pm

the paper plane i wrote upon, i threw to you, drifts on the wind and i imagine that, even though it will fall well before it reaches you, that it travels through the hundreds of miles separating us, catching on the lightest breeze as it lazily floats towards you where you are, and you just happen to be there, right there, at the perfect moment to catch it. but i need no paper plane because you know my words as you know me.

Posted By Q On 08.19.2011 @ 10:30 pm

there is the serene moment that is white and gray and muted colors of fog. the trees arch high overhead and for that moment, everything seems peaceful like the wide eyes of the doe standing, spotlighted, an inch before her death. the surprise that you come to expect is not there. she is ready.

Posted By Q On 08.19.2011 @ 8:43 am

i am driving along a road along a mountain that twists and beyond us we see blue peaks. your hair whips back against the seat, strands of it get stuck against your red lipstick. i laugh. you kiss me on the cheek, grab me, kiss me and i laugh, and i berate you because the lipstick stain will be there and i have no means to get it off during this car ride. but secretly i am glad because the lipstick, it stains of knowing i’m yours.

Posted By Q On 08.09.2011 @ 12:07 pm

upto the sky the real work is mine. the thing to reach is phenix. important. reproduction rinse, wtf, up up and away kid cuddi for real the real deal rising far far above the rest up above the sky

Posted By Q On 06.11.2011 @ 2:28 am

and then the clip was completely unloaded into her – her head jerked back, and some black came down her pale cheeks

Posted By Q On 05.05.2011 @ 10:47 pm

single. needing companionship. connection to humanity and sincerity. Does it exist? I think not. Humanity is individuality. Lost.

Posted By q On 04.07.2011 @ 8:40 am

have you ever wanted to be rich and famous? I bet you did. Well, the only wanted i’ve been was like in that cowboy shit where u get ur head on the hunt for some money. Wtf did i just write?

Posted By Q On 03.18.2011 @ 12:18 pm

there’s that glint in your eye that i love, the soft way you look at me and smile, the way you part your hair to the side because you know i like it that way. the tilt of your head, the curve of your lips, the way you hide in your hand when you’re smiling and going pink. the world is in crumbles around me, soft, delicate crumbles that frame you and only you and that is all that matters to me because frankly, i love you, and i could not love one thing any more than i do you.

Posted By Q On 03.02.2011 @ 3:10 pm

i don’t like to think that i’m a coward, but i probably am. if i wax poetic i could probably say that we all are, but the fact of the matter is that no matter how true (or not) that may be, there are every day heroes around us. some of us stand up for ourselves, some of us stand up for each other. some of us stand up for merely what we think is right and it disgusts– or saddens me to think that someone might back away from standing for their beliefs because they are cowardly. but i’m sure i’ve done it, sometime, somewhere.

Posted By Q On 02.09.2011 @ 7:57 pm

in a dark room i wait with you, our hands clasped. there are tiny glowing things all around us, they might be stars but i know they’re a glowing species of worm, glittering like little crystals. you come in closer to me, squeeze my hand because you’re scared but i know that this will pass. i lean in, i kiss you, and slowly those little glowing things wink, blink, and metamorphose into real stars, glittering balls of gas light years away from us. we soar. we are astronauts.

Posted By Q On 02.01.2011 @ 9:26 pm

there are spiders on the wall, crawling upwards, following that crack in the plaster as though there is something drawing them to skitter along that guided path. they contrast against the pale peach of the peeling paint. the wallpaper in the corner crumbles under the lightest touch. no one has been here in years. the house was once loved, but now dried flowers sit in a dusty vase in the foyer. there are a child’s shoes by the door.

Posted By Q On 01.19.2011 @ 12:11 pm