The food tasted awful, I understand that it was not refrigeration on time, but what ever the cause, the vegetables tasted bland to me. It just was’t right.
This is getting more bland that it was at the start
Please dont tell me I feel, cause there’s no beat in my heart
The only beat I can find is my fist on your eye
And my fist are the words I’ll tell you accidentally slide…
…out my mouth like it was on the tip of my tongue.
If you think I’m using you, I’m going to tell you you’re wrong.
Like a third place contestant shouting out that he won.
The bland taste of the apple failed to penetrate his senses. He had lost his ability to taste food, to recognize the sensations and flavours that danced across his tongue. Jack placed his head in his hands and mourned his predicament with half restrained sobs.
oh, bland. i think, subconsciously, i try to choose something that’s not bland, whatever choice it is. being bland can be worse than ugly, for ugly can be beautiful to some other people.
My life these past couple weeks, not bland in the reason for the bland-ness… bland because with a brain injury I can do exactly. fucking. nothing. but sit around all day waiting for my head to heal enough to live my life again….. not what I imagined for the island I live on.
There are too many things in life that are bland. There are bland foods, bland people. There are bland life experiences. I think too many of us are satisfied living bland lives that we get little out of – I think I am guilty of this also. I hope to experience things that are more than that.
a bland brand of not so special canned ham. Is it grand no yam can make a can like a canned ham? Ayn Rand has not yet panned her plan to address her fans, I suppose this entry is bland.
He had evolved since I had seen him last. Once, I had felt the need to impress him because, you see, I’m an opportunist. Here had been a guy who could have helped me. Even maybe taught me something. But now, well, with the polite handshake, the company benefits, the flight discounts, the fitness, and the free tickets for the game, the ‘keeping in touch’ propositions, he had just developed into quite something useless.
some people are more bland than others some people do not have the full amout of spices and i like to have a extra flavor and I like to have some extra sauce that will mbe marinatina and bland of a life is not at all i ideal life in my eayse and the way that i see things i want juice i want flavour and i really super want taht spice!
everything seems so bland
i just can’t- i can’t keep moving and breathing and sleeping and eating
and wishing i didn’t move and breathe and sleep and eat so much
but the wheels keep going round and the painted ponies go up and down
isn’t that what joni said? and i’m tired. but life is just beginning.
no time to slow down and regret what has been best but what has been the most painful and scary and the memories like jagged scars on the dead skin we shed
He just looked so tasteless. Not to say that he didn’t have any taste–his wardrobe suggested otherwise–but there was something about him that was boring and bland. And while some people might call him “vanilla,” that’d be giving this soulless creature more credit than was due.
Why be so plain when world contains many window panes and views and sights? Boring is a state of mind I do not wish to be in. Cookie-cuttered life is never for me. Shouldn’t be for anyone for we are limitless beings.
He was just… bland. There seemed to be nothing extraordinary about him. So why had I wasted so much time on him? So many journal entries, so many thoughts, so much pain for such an insignificant person. Oh, how much power the ignorant can have, and know not what to do with it.
stop being so bland. stand out for once. stand up for once. be something different. stop being afraid.
i have been given so much and i’m realizing more and more how much it means to be so privileged. i want to give back so much. i want to be ahead and on-top so i can sprinkle down goodness and health.
Sometimes, life is as bland as a white room
you sit
and sit
and sit
and wait
for the chance to live
but you don’t
because you can’t
Until you learn to shed your restraints
and fly away
The taste of the him is bland on my lips.
I miss the spice and fire of her,
How she made me burn with such heat I thought
All my senses were gone forever.
Now, in comparison his touch chills me.
No salt, no sugar, no sugar – all bland foods are considered diet foods. Healthy doesn’t have to mean bland, that is a misconception. I personally love eating my fruits without salt, my salads without dressing and my rice just plain thank you very much.
Bland days that never seem to change. Monotony just sinking in as a normal part of life, even if that contradicts all that I want from it. It’s getting harder to stand little to no change. If only I could see life from a child’s eyes with their wide eyes and enthusiasm.
Oh, it may be a blander world where thoughts are controlled, speech is censored and people are not allowed to pursue their dreams. It is however, better for society in general if we are disallowed from being individuals. The more we conform, the better off we are. Blandness rules!
If you’ve ever tasted Margie’s lemon pepper chicken, you know what bland tastes like. God bless her, she tries. The end result is always terrible, however. I never have the heart to tell her. I can see on her face she wants my approval. She does it for me. And I can’t fault her for that.
The bland food was not much, but it was all I could afford. After all, beggars can’t be choosers. I can live with some boring meals; in the long run, I’ll be rewarded. But bland as it might be, it is healthy.
Her mouth felt numb around the bland, tasteless mound dissolving on her tongue.
“It tastes wonderful,” she assured her hosts, words muffled by the impossible-to-swallow ball of dough rolling around her mouth. She was unsure what to do; spitting it out would be unbelievably rude, but swallowing seemed impossible. She seemed to recall a copy of “Miss Manners’ Guide to Dinner Party Success” on her mother’s stained wooden coffee table, navy blue cover creaseless and unopened.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said shyly, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to keep polite distance between her hosts and the small chunks of food flying out from between her teeth. She quickly folded her napkin, draping it over the back of her seat, and whisked away down the hall. Her kitten heels clicked incessantly against the marble floors and her taffeta skirt ruffled deliciously against her knees as she ran down the hallways, pigtails bouncing under large yellow bows. She approached the bathroom, disregarding all attempts at formality and spitting grotesquely into the garbage.
A small cough echoed off of the mirrored walls of the bathroom, as the attendant uncomfortably shuffled her feet. The woman straightened up immediately, smoothing her dress as she nodded politely to the bathroom attendant and headed back towards the dinner table, face ablaze.
its doesn’t taste at all. it doesn’t inspire unless the vacuum it creates is the energy of your motivation. make bland your power cell; use it to your advantage
its doesn’t taste at all. it doesn’t inspire unless the vacuum it creates is the energy of your motivation. make bland your power cell use it to your advantage.
there;s toomuch going on in my head lately. the apartment the book, the characters in the book. when will i get over darrick and why am i still talking about him and its stupid. maybe i can really be single until i’m 27, who knows, i;’m sure if alyssa can chill so can i. i;’m an idiot dammit. hip replacement, who knows where that came from or what it means.
boring. life has become so boring it’s not even funny. Darrick looks amazing but i can’t stand his whole sports thign and i just really want him to read a book. or look in a mirror and talk to himsael so i don’t feel so awkward when he walks byt and i’m singing some ridiculous band and he makes that confused face. dam, stop talking about darrick already. when will i gigve that up who knows. darrick darrick darrick
I looked at the plate of disgust sitting in front of me. Even I was disappointed: this was not what I could create. In the kitchen, I am amazing. Years and years of practice has produce… this. This piece of bland crap. My stomach churned in discomfort.
There isn’t really much that she allows herself to eat. Mostly things that are brown. Pale. She calls it the beige diet, tries to laugh at herself and her body and what it makes her do. Sometimes she feels okay about it, because it means her stomach isn’t twisting her into agonized knots, but mostly she remembers what it was like back when she forced herself to barely eat anything.
She gave a bland look…that was the last thing he expected, though he was relaxed that here was no drama…she turned her back and everything was hazy…she got into the car and wished to die…without him life was bland..insipid….a never ending void…
Bland. How am I supposed to write something about bland? The word just sits in my mind like a rock. Not moving. Stopping other things, thoughts from moving. It weighs everything down.
The food tasted awful, I understand that it was not refrigeration on time, but what ever the cause, the vegetables tasted bland to me. It just was’t right.
This is getting more bland that it was at the start
Please dont tell me I feel, cause there’s no beat in my heart
The only beat I can find is my fist on your eye
And my fist are the words I’ll tell you accidentally slide…
…out my mouth like it was on the tip of my tongue.
If you think I’m using you, I’m going to tell you you’re wrong.
Like a third place contestant shouting out that he won.
White, such a bland colour. Yet I suppose you can fill its empty,empty space with rainbow colours.
The bland taste of the apple failed to penetrate his senses. He had lost his ability to taste food, to recognize the sensations and flavours that danced across his tongue. Jack placed his head in his hands and mourned his predicament with half restrained sobs.
oh, bland. i think, subconsciously, i try to choose something that’s not bland, whatever choice it is. being bland can be worse than ugly, for ugly can be beautiful to some other people.
My life these past couple weeks, not bland in the reason for the bland-ness… bland because with a brain injury I can do exactly. fucking. nothing. but sit around all day waiting for my head to heal enough to live my life again….. not what I imagined for the island I live on.
Bland was ok Rachael thought. Didn’t matter that something was neither one way or the other, the middle was the truce
tasteless, gross..boring
There are too many things in life that are bland. There are bland foods, bland people. There are bland life experiences. I think too many of us are satisfied living bland lives that we get little out of – I think I am guilty of this also. I hope to experience things that are more than that.
a bland brand of not so special canned ham. Is it grand no yam can make a can like a canned ham? Ayn Rand has not yet panned her plan to address her fans, I suppose this entry is bland.
He had evolved since I had seen him last. Once, I had felt the need to impress him because, you see, I’m an opportunist. Here had been a guy who could have helped me. Even maybe taught me something. But now, well, with the polite handshake, the company benefits, the flight discounts, the fitness, and the free tickets for the game, the ‘keeping in touch’ propositions, he had just developed into quite something useless.
the absence of flavor, zing, spice…zilch! nada! salt, chili and pepper?! over here!!! i need a kick! party in my mouth!
His voice is bland, as the shortness of this entry
some people are more bland than others some people do not have the full amout of spices and i like to have a extra flavor and I like to have some extra sauce that will mbe marinatina and bland of a life is not at all i ideal life in my eayse and the way that i see things i want juice i want flavour and i really super want taht spice!
everything seems so bland
i just can’t- i can’t keep moving and breathing and sleeping and eating
and wishing i didn’t move and breathe and sleep and eat so much
but the wheels keep going round and the painted ponies go up and down
isn’t that what joni said? and i’m tired. but life is just beginning.
no time to slow down and regret what has been best but what has been the most painful and scary and the memories like jagged scars on the dead skin we shed
He just looked so tasteless. Not to say that he didn’t have any taste–his wardrobe suggested otherwise–but there was something about him that was boring and bland. And while some people might call him “vanilla,” that’d be giving this soulless creature more credit than was due.
Why be so plain when world contains many window panes and views and sights? Boring is a state of mind I do not wish to be in. Cookie-cuttered life is never for me. Shouldn’t be for anyone for we are limitless beings.
He was just… bland. There seemed to be nothing extraordinary about him. So why had I wasted so much time on him? So many journal entries, so many thoughts, so much pain for such an insignificant person. Oh, how much power the ignorant can have, and know not what to do with it.
stop being so bland. stand out for once. stand up for once. be something different. stop being afraid.
i have been given so much and i’m realizing more and more how much it means to be so privileged. i want to give back so much. i want to be ahead and on-top so i can sprinkle down goodness and health.
Sometimes, life is as bland as a white room
you sit
and sit
and sit
and wait
for the chance to live
but you don’t
because you can’t
Until you learn to shed your restraints
and fly away
Life here is dull,
No substance at all.
All the familiar faces gone,
Even the setting is bland.
I miss them all.
I miss my life.
The taste of the him is bland on my lips.
I miss the spice and fire of her,
How she made me burn with such heat I thought
All my senses were gone forever.
Now, in comparison his touch chills me.
No salt, no sugar, no sugar – all bland foods are considered diet foods. Healthy doesn’t have to mean bland, that is a misconception. I personally love eating my fruits without salt, my salads without dressing and my rice just plain thank you very much.
Bland days that never seem to change. Monotony just sinking in as a normal part of life, even if that contradicts all that I want from it. It’s getting harder to stand little to no change. If only I could see life from a child’s eyes with their wide eyes and enthusiasm.
Oh, it may be a blander world where thoughts are controlled, speech is censored and people are not allowed to pursue their dreams. It is however, better for society in general if we are disallowed from being individuals. The more we conform, the better off we are. Blandness rules!
If you’ve ever tasted Margie’s lemon pepper chicken, you know what bland tastes like. God bless her, she tries. The end result is always terrible, however. I never have the heart to tell her. I can see on her face she wants my approval. She does it for me. And I can’t fault her for that.
The bland food was not much, but it was all I could afford. After all, beggars can’t be choosers. I can live with some boring meals; in the long run, I’ll be rewarded. But bland as it might be, it is healthy.
A bran muffin with no sugar for fun stuff of any kind.
Her mouth felt numb around the bland, tasteless mound dissolving on her tongue.
“It tastes wonderful,” she assured her hosts, words muffled by the impossible-to-swallow ball of dough rolling around her mouth. She was unsure what to do; spitting it out would be unbelievably rude, but swallowing seemed impossible. She seemed to recall a copy of “Miss Manners’ Guide to Dinner Party Success” on her mother’s stained wooden coffee table, navy blue cover creaseless and unopened.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said shyly, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to keep polite distance between her hosts and the small chunks of food flying out from between her teeth. She quickly folded her napkin, draping it over the back of her seat, and whisked away down the hall. Her kitten heels clicked incessantly against the marble floors and her taffeta skirt ruffled deliciously against her knees as she ran down the hallways, pigtails bouncing under large yellow bows. She approached the bathroom, disregarding all attempts at formality and spitting grotesquely into the garbage.
A small cough echoed off of the mirrored walls of the bathroom, as the attendant uncomfortably shuffled her feet. The woman straightened up immediately, smoothing her dress as she nodded politely to the bathroom attendant and headed back towards the dinner table, face ablaze.
The evening had not begun as planned.
its doesn’t taste at all. it doesn’t inspire unless the vacuum it creates is the energy of your motivation. make bland your power cell; use it to your advantage
its doesn’t taste at all. it doesn’t inspire unless the vacuum it creates is the energy of your motivation. make bland your power cell use it to your advantage.
noone bland ever did anything
remark upon motion. to move.
and though long and perhaps annoying
it is not bland.
there;s toomuch going on in my head lately. the apartment the book, the characters in the book. when will i get over darrick and why am i still talking about him and its stupid. maybe i can really be single until i’m 27, who knows, i;’m sure if alyssa can chill so can i. i;’m an idiot dammit. hip replacement, who knows where that came from or what it means.
boring. life has become so boring it’s not even funny. Darrick looks amazing but i can’t stand his whole sports thign and i just really want him to read a book. or look in a mirror and talk to himsael so i don’t feel so awkward when he walks byt and i’m singing some ridiculous band and he makes that confused face. dam, stop talking about darrick already. when will i gigve that up who knows. darrick darrick darrick
I took a bite hoping for spicy cajun tilapia to burst onto my tastebuds with fiery boldness. All I got was bland tastelessness. What a disappointment.
I looked at the plate of disgust sitting in front of me. Even I was disappointed: this was not what I could create. In the kitchen, I am amazing. Years and years of practice has produce… this. This piece of bland crap. My stomach churned in discomfort.
There isn’t really much that she allows herself to eat. Mostly things that are brown. Pale. She calls it the beige diet, tries to laugh at herself and her body and what it makes her do. Sometimes she feels okay about it, because it means her stomach isn’t twisting her into agonized knots, but mostly she remembers what it was like back when she forced herself to barely eat anything.
She gave a bland look…that was the last thing he expected, though he was relaxed that here was no drama…she turned her back and everything was hazy…she got into the car and wished to die…without him life was bland..insipid….a never ending void…
Leave me, don’t leave me alone.
Bland. How am I supposed to write something about bland? The word just sits in my mind like a rock. Not moving. Stopping other things, thoughts from moving. It weighs everything down.