Los bebes son un tesoro. Realmente una locura. Uno los mira y no puede creer haber sido alguna vez de ese tamaño. Cuanta paz no? Que es lo que estarán pensando antes de que se les contamine la cabeza con la locura del mundo en el que vivimos?
Con el correr de los años uno termina aprendiendo solo a vivir.
This is something that still at this point in my life scares the crap out of me. That little personal point aside, they are also a signification of our future and proof that a human, who’s survival is completely dependent on another, has humble beginnings.
Babies are babies. But babies don’t feel that they are babies. Instead they feel vivid colors falling from the sky over their eyes, because it is a baby-lical world for them. surprising. very challenging. very austere. but classically beautiful,laden with horseshoes, plants, policemen and even cross-fire during mafia wars, and last but not the least, giant cakes and little pies that are cut for their surprise.
Ah, what has changed my entire existence, softened my personality, made me strive for patience and overall want to be a better person. Mine is a little boy now, and when I see the newborns I can’t help but coo and gush and want to hold them and smell their heads….then I mentally slap myself in the face and say “Who the HELL are you? What’s happened to you?” But we’re all really slaves to our biology.
a little tiny human with tiny eyes, small clothes. they cant speak. they cry and poo a lot. they want feeding all of the time. they grow up to be big and do things that big people do.
Bardot a spus că va solicita cetățenia rusă dacă autoritățile franceze vor eutanasia doi elefanți de circ, Baby și Nepal, bolnavi de tuberculoză.
europalibera.org
One time I had a dream that I had a baby. The father was some random latino guy, and my mom didn’t know the baby was mine. Then one day when I was outside my house, a rocket crashed into my house, with the baby in it. I freaked out and ran inside to find my baby inches from being crushed. Somehow this then led to my mother discovering the baby’s parentage and she made me give it up for adoption.
When I was a baby, I had a sister. A furry, short-haired sister. Her name was Daisy. My father wanted a dog, Mum gave him a daughter so he brought home a puppy for her to take care of, too. Every photo of me and my Daddy, there’s Daisy right there with us.
He babies them. He knows that they’re all grown men and he knows that the others hate it when he does it, but he can’t help it. They were forced to mature too early in their lives. He has a right to baby them, he always says.
she cries and cries. i don’t know why she’s crying. her mother is asleep; i’ve started to think of her as “mother” instead of “wife” or “lover”. i forget that i loved her before we had the baby. i forget that anything existed before this.
she cries and cries. i can’t get her to stop, not with bottles or lullabies.
Babies are weird and like to poop all the time. frankly they look really gross and sound very irritating. Some people (many) disagree with me but I just can’t stand a baby anywhere. They wail and wail!
I love you, he said quietly, his back to mine, and then he was silent once more. I could see the galaxy of little brown freckles suspended about the curve of his skin in the warm, blue moonlight, and the tiny hairs bristling on the back of his neck. There was something in the manner of his stillness that bore more clarity to me than any poem, any verse I had ever tried to write. I knew that there was never going to be anyone else for me as long as I lived.
I saw the baby as it fell out of its mother’s hand, and I tried as much as I could to save it from landing on the floor, but I was not fast enough. fortunately someone throw a cushion under her in time to break the fall.
Clean your mess, fold your clothes, pick up your shoes and do your chores. “Man baby”, how I love thee. But must I change your diaper when you pee? Maturity responsibility I must see…
Rivers run down the entrails of young pigs like waterloo in the wondrous woods of the wintergreen. And I sat wondering if I could smoke but the child was too young to taste the clean of the air so I thought I would wait a while. I waited and he grew from stump to tree in an instant and I cried when I saw how strong he’d become. I was floored by his kindness and thrilled at his love.
i had a baby once, its was green and red, and blue and yellow, it smelt of love and rain, and grass and dew. i loved it, it loved me. this baby died, it got lost in its own exploration. i had a baby once, now its gone
And still the word lingers. The word from which we came. A world of babies, all growing up, never fully achieving growth or being grown up. A baby. To baby. You are so baby. Strange things come up, but not one of those ideas is narrative.
Babies scare me. They’re confusing and I never know whether to look at them from an evolutionary perspective or to feel sympathy for them. Babies remind me of joy and happiness, but also frustration and confusion by a mother who just wants to help their child. Babies also make me think of the joy of life, but the fact that women also deserve the chance to choose not to have a child if it is not the right time.
the baby is crying and i dont understand why.
Maybe she’s hungry? or losing her sense of reality?
But how could I go on walking the distant path
If this child is as fair as the white daffodils in the field?
Her sobs and sighs reminds me of how I use to be like
And my mother who’s there to carry me for me to calm down
I already wrote about “baby.” I thought maybe I would get a different word and that’s why I liked this website. It’s a chance to think. A chance to completely let your mind free with no regrets. No backspace. Because you only have one minute. It’s like life. You can’t go back. There’s no time to go back. You have to keep moving forward, from the time you were a baby to now to the future. There’s no eraser in life. There’s no backspace.
There’s a baby in the window and my lover is my baby. Baby. I want a baby. I will have a baby someday but right now I’m not old enough. It would be weird if I had a baby right now because then I would be a teen mom. I want to be a mom, but I don’t want to be a mom this young. Being a babysitter is just fine. But it’s not the same. They aren’t my kids. I love kids. Baby baby baby oooh. Justin Bieber sings about babies. Baby. Weird.
the soft shell of a person. younger than me, and a stranger to the world. Likes to play with me and always looking to make new discoveries.
Will take care of me one day, when I am old and gray.
Sarah Lemonia had had a painful birth. Her tenth in 20 years. She was getting old, and the baby had gotten too fat for her frail, tired body. The horns came first, followed by its big bulbous head, then the wings, then the baby.
i wish someone called me this. I also want to have babies but not for a while. cause i’m only 18 i like this world jb ruined it a bit though BABAY BABY BABY OOOOOH… no. die. die justin beiber die. Baaaaaaybaaaay I want a baby. like a boyfriend. not a actual baby. i”d probably drop it.
tumbling forward into the light that beamed so everlasting, the breath of a new day could be felt down the back of her neck, the first sense of touch to be experienced in a cacophony of delights that would be her existence. this was the day that called her name, she was here.
Los bebes son un tesoro. Realmente una locura. Uno los mira y no puede creer haber sido alguna vez de ese tamaño. Cuanta paz no? Que es lo que estarán pensando antes de que se les contamine la cabeza con la locura del mundo en el que vivimos?
Con el correr de los años uno termina aprendiendo solo a vivir.
This is something that still at this point in my life scares the crap out of me. That little personal point aside, they are also a signification of our future and proof that a human, who’s survival is completely dependent on another, has humble beginnings.
Hi
Babies are babies. But babies don’t feel that they are babies. Instead they feel vivid colors falling from the sky over their eyes, because it is a baby-lical world for them. surprising. very challenging. very austere. but classically beautiful,laden with horseshoes, plants, policemen and even cross-fire during mafia wars, and last but not the least, giant cakes and little pies that are cut for their surprise.
Not quite a human. Barely formed. Usually cute but can be ugly as much as people deny it. Can’t speak. Learns through time.
her eyes have seen three lives
but she’s never been kissed
(lips tasting like bitten nails)
she looks at me like it’d be easy
to twist my head backwards
(barbie shivers in her box)
she frightens me like an innocent
(it’s how the devil started off,
after all.)
Ah, what has changed my entire existence, softened my personality, made me strive for patience and overall want to be a better person. Mine is a little boy now, and when I see the newborns I can’t help but coo and gush and want to hold them and smell their heads….then I mentally slap myself in the face and say “Who the HELL are you? What’s happened to you?” But we’re all really slaves to our biology.
:)
a little tiny human with tiny eyes, small clothes. they cant speak. they cry and poo a lot. they want feeding all of the time. they grow up to be big and do things that big people do.
Bardot a spus că va solicita cetățenia rusă dacă autoritățile franceze vor eutanasia doi elefanți de circ, Baby și Nepal, bolnavi de tuberculoză.
europalibera.org
One time I had a dream that I had a baby. The father was some random latino guy, and my mom didn’t know the baby was mine. Then one day when I was outside my house, a rocket crashed into my house, with the baby in it. I freaked out and ran inside to find my baby inches from being crushed. Somehow this then led to my mother discovering the baby’s parentage and she made me give it up for adoption.
When I was a baby, I had a sister. A furry, short-haired sister. Her name was Daisy. My father wanted a dog, Mum gave him a daughter so he brought home a puppy for her to take care of, too. Every photo of me and my Daddy, there’s Daisy right there with us.
He babies them. He knows that they’re all grown men and he knows that the others hate it when he does it, but he can’t help it. They were forced to mature too early in their lives. He has a right to baby them, he always says.
baby oh baby pleeeeaaaas dont live me your all i know i cant survive without u. BABY your my oxygen.
she cries and cries. i don’t know why she’s crying. her mother is asleep; i’ve started to think of her as “mother” instead of “wife” or “lover”. i forget that i loved her before we had the baby. i forget that anything existed before this.
she cries and cries. i can’t get her to stop, not with bottles or lullabies.
precious. a time long past, my boys are growing up. smiling. They were both, as my luck would have it, “good” babies. Happy and content, thriving.
Babies are weird and like to poop all the time. frankly they look really gross and sound very irritating. Some people (many) disagree with me but I just can’t stand a baby anywhere. They wail and wail!
I love you, he said quietly, his back to mine, and then he was silent once more. I could see the galaxy of little brown freckles suspended about the curve of his skin in the warm, blue moonlight, and the tiny hairs bristling on the back of his neck. There was something in the manner of his stillness that bore more clarity to me than any poem, any verse I had ever tried to write. I knew that there was never going to be anyone else for me as long as I lived.
I saw the baby as it fell out of its mother’s hand, and I tried as much as I could to save it from landing on the floor, but I was not fast enough. fortunately someone throw a cushion under her in time to break the fall.
baby, baby
won’t you come and kiss
won’t just come home
won’t you just exist
baby baby,
I wish that you were real
I wish that I could love you
I wish that you were missed
Clean your mess, fold your clothes, pick up your shoes and do your chores. “Man baby”, how I love thee. But must I change your diaper when you pee? Maturity responsibility I must see…
Dean Winchester and his Baby… travelling across the U.S. with his brother. It’s not much, but it’s home. The only home they’ve ever known.
Rivers run down the entrails of young pigs like waterloo in the wondrous woods of the wintergreen. And I sat wondering if I could smoke but the child was too young to taste the clean of the air so I thought I would wait a while. I waited and he grew from stump to tree in an instant and I cried when I saw how strong he’d become. I was floored by his kindness and thrilled at his love.
cute human beings, innocent, godlike, playful, chubby, amazing
i had a baby once, its was green and red, and blue and yellow, it smelt of love and rain, and grass and dew. i loved it, it loved me. this baby died, it got lost in its own exploration. i had a baby once, now its gone
And still the word lingers. The word from which we came. A world of babies, all growing up, never fully achieving growth or being grown up. A baby. To baby. You are so baby. Strange things come up, but not one of those ideas is narrative.
“When is the baby due?”
Oh Patti, he was born last week. You really don’t know much about this business, do you?
“But . . . you still look pregnant.”
everyone can easly see
small
beautiful
happy
nice
cute
interesting
sleepy
lovely
tiny
old
healthy
life
Babies scare me. They’re confusing and I never know whether to look at them from an evolutionary perspective or to feel sympathy for them. Babies remind me of joy and happiness, but also frustration and confusion by a mother who just wants to help their child. Babies also make me think of the joy of life, but the fact that women also deserve the chance to choose not to have a child if it is not the right time.
Chubby faced, green eyed, puking, screaming and laughing on my back as I stare at the ceiling. Some things haven’t changed since the beginning.
the baby is crying and i dont understand why.
Maybe she’s hungry? or losing her sense of reality?
But how could I go on walking the distant path
If this child is as fair as the white daffodils in the field?
Her sobs and sighs reminds me of how I use to be like
And my mother who’s there to carry me for me to calm down
“Baby, you’re wonderful.”
“That’s really cliche.”
“Uh… baby, you’re… hot?”
“Can’t you be more creative?”
“… Nope. I got nothing.”
“Whatever, it’s fine. … You tried your hardest, I guess. Come here. I’ll give you a hug.”
“Whoo, awesome! Can I get a kiss too?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
The beauty of a baby is in the freshness of life in the purest form
I already wrote about “baby.” I thought maybe I would get a different word and that’s why I liked this website. It’s a chance to think. A chance to completely let your mind free with no regrets. No backspace. Because you only have one minute. It’s like life. You can’t go back. There’s no time to go back. You have to keep moving forward, from the time you were a baby to now to the future. There’s no eraser in life. There’s no backspace.
There’s a baby in the window and my lover is my baby. Baby. I want a baby. I will have a baby someday but right now I’m not old enough. It would be weird if I had a baby right now because then I would be a teen mom. I want to be a mom, but I don’t want to be a mom this young. Being a babysitter is just fine. But it’s not the same. They aren’t my kids. I love kids. Baby baby baby oooh. Justin Bieber sings about babies. Baby. Weird.
the soft shell of a person. younger than me, and a stranger to the world. Likes to play with me and always looking to make new discoveries.
Will take care of me one day, when I am old and gray.
Sarah Lemonia had had a painful birth. Her tenth in 20 years. She was getting old, and the baby had gotten too fat for her frail, tired body. The horns came first, followed by its big bulbous head, then the wings, then the baby.
i wish someone called me this. I also want to have babies but not for a while. cause i’m only 18 i like this world jb ruined it a bit though BABAY BABY BABY OOOOOH… no. die. die justin beiber die. Baaaaaaybaaaay I want a baby. like a boyfriend. not a actual baby. i”d probably drop it.
tumbling forward into the light that beamed so everlasting, the breath of a new day could be felt down the back of her neck, the first sense of touch to be experienced in a cacophony of delights that would be her existence. this was the day that called her name, she was here.