fruit is cooking on the stove in hot olive oil. i wish i had some grapes and some sparkling wine. chocolate chip cookies are good too. oh yeah and cantaloupe. eggs boil too. i really want some. so uh yeah i only have 60 seconds and its about to be up. so bye
Boiling like a pot of tea on the stove. Boiling like the pot of water I’m waiting for that never seems to actually boil. Boiling because I’m mad at you. Boiling because you will never understand where I am coming from. Boiling is the way you make me feel right this second.
Hot water in a pot, add a pouch of blueberry tea but it’s too hot for me to drink. But I love my tea, I need it. Can’t feel my mouth now, hot hot hot hot, can’t not drink my tea though, need to finish it, need the caffeine, need to stay up all night to finish my last project of the year. Must Pass. this is it, my future depends on the caffeine i ingest. Must finish my cup. Must finish…
My soup is boiling on the stove like my love for my boy that is overflowing, but he doesn’t notice that it is overheating. Time is wasting and I am fleeting.
The room was boiling. Literally. She was sure of it. There was steam on the mirrors, and she was pretty sure steam was rising from her skin, and the air was rancid with the scent of sweat and exertion.
And she still couldn’t get this stupid arm bar right.
“It’s all about subtle movement,” Sensei said again, which wasn’t much of an explanation at all.
But she said, “Yes sir,” and tried the hold again.
Rob sprinkled some pepper into the boiling water, watching it simmer and swirl in satisfaction. This was going to be his best spaghetti yet. Forget Ramen noodles and Cup O’ Noodles, he was moving to the big time: full blown cook-it-yourself spaghetti. Now he was a real college student.
angry words you hurl at me like shards of glass make me boil over
every time you strike a match and throw it at me
i’m useless
with tears pouring out, scorching and burning what i thought was my pride
all because i thought i could love you
because i thought that nothing was everything
because you keep burning me
and i keep boiling
the water was too hot. i burnt my tongue on it. again. i hate when that happens. you can’t eat or drink properly forever after that. hell, it feels like you can’t even talk the same. the only good thing about burning your tongue is you appreciate your sense more after it. that’s the only thing.
Keep me here. Trap me. I always end up thinking about you, but I have no idea if you ever think about me. I’m boiling over. I’m sick of feeling like this. Like a bad guy for nothing. I didn’t do anything. You changed, not me. I want to know what happened. I want to know if you miss me too. I want to know if we are just going different ways and that’s it. I need some sort of closure. I hate having to wonder. I don’t know if I should do something or not. Do you even want to hear from me? I hate this. I hate this so much.
She moved closer. Gliding, slinking, even. He felt the drops of perspiration on his forehead, on his chest, under his arms. His shirt felt tighter. With one hand suddenly on his neck, she moved closer and whispered into his ear: “Right now?”
The end is near. The moment we’ve been dreading our whole lives. Everything will change from this moment on. There’s fire in the skies and it seems like the whole world is on fire. This is your last chance to makes things right so do what you can to live right now. Don’t let any moment pass without being grateful and using every last breath wisely.
I knew from the moment I saw him that things would be different. He was not the same as everyone else, but different. He was everything I’ve ever wanted. But you don’t even know who I am. The worst part is me knowing but not you.
My heat my passion my love my desire thats what i normally think when i think steam or heat but now i think my rage my pain the anger the confusion you’ve given to me and i cant contain and i cant control it’s like the water’s almost gone and the ground is getting hot, hotter than ever and somethings got to crack, something has to break, shatter, explode but for some reason i really can’t force myself to hate you. but i want to hate you.
The water felt cool as the girls boiling body fell in temperature.
The babies fever kept rising, boiling points to nearly kill.
People live for this in summer.
Heat is unbearable.
boiling.
Its funny, it was just like a kettle. It starts of lukewarm, but the heat intensifies with each passing minute. Except, each minute is a situation. He pushes, she bends, until she cannot take anymore…yelling, screaming, cursing him. She reached her boiling point.
Boiling, something you do with eggs if you want a warm..slushy..gooey..nasty breakfast…except on easter! I felt like I was boiling up inside when my boss told me I was a complete waste of time after I quitted because they were total douchebags. Come to think of it..I really wanted to say something back to them…but I guess I’m the bigger person.
IVe reached my boiling point. Too much drama. Too much hate. Too many mean girls. I can’t deal with it. As I said ive reached my boiling point. And if the heat isn’t turned down, I’m not sure i can contain myself
boiling. normally i think of my blood boiling in anger. But I haven’t written in so long, and I really have nothing to be so angry about – I’m quite apathetic these days. So, I just think of boiling water. Maybe some salt, to quicken it. And eggs. Or pasta, perhaps.
Water boiling over the surface into the walls onto the floor, the cat starts drinking it. You start yelling at the cat. The cat turns into a dragon and eats you. You’re now in side a dragons stomach you decide the best thing you can do is to do the hokey pokey.
The water rested in a pan and sat upon the blazing hot stove. Minutes later the water started boiling and nearly overflowed but a fragile hand roughly moved the pan to another burner.
Lillian watched the water boiling over the edge of the werid bowl shaped pond thing. It was odd seeing that, it was odd in general and completely uncalled for, but in thgis strange world the grass the pink grass brushing against her feet.
Boiling water can be extremely unpleasant at times. One moment you could be enjoying a nice stroll around the kitchen when suddenly boiling water just comes out of no where and completely obliterates everything around you. Why you might ask? Well that’s just how boiling water is.
Water begins to boil at a temperature of 220 degrees, give or take. As the water gets warmer it begins to bubble. I don’t know why water bubbles when it boils, but it does. I know that it takes a shorter amount of time to boil water on a gas stove, as an it does on an electric stove.
She was boiling mad. How could he have hurt her like this? How could he have tricked and mislead her. She had given him her heart, her soul….her life. And for what???
The water was scalding hot, yet I proceeded to stick my hand into the pot of boiling water. I was in terrible need of medical attention, yet for the first time I was feeling again. I was finally back into the land of the living. Having not felt anything for so long, the pain was welcomed.
hot hot water bubbling to the top on coiling tendrils of tiny beads of air clear and nearly intangible don’t touch they only scald they only hurt never touch. Look with your eyes passed lashes and air, see what cannot be touched only looking. Cushions of air push up on the water, reaching and groping for the ceiling trying their hardest to escape the clutches of moisture
The water was boiling as I stared, mesmerized. It was taunting me, laughing gleeful goblin chuckles. How could it read my mind? The insanity of my heart was read in the raucous rolling twisting raging steaming infuriating bubbles. I want to stop it. Can I? I can’t. I reach for it, desperate. The water bites back, you know. It hurts more than I can say. Already, the blister on my hand laughs at me as it begins to bubble likes its cruel maker.
Boiling? Such a random word to write about. Water boils. I hate when people say their “blood is boiling.” That’s a way to describe that you’re angry? I don’t really get it to be honest. I will never say “my blood is boiling” instead of saying “i’m upset” or “i’m angry.” EVER.
The boiling hot water cascaded down her body beautifully as she bathed. Her graceful movements were almost angelic; it appeared almost as if she was controlling the way the water moved.
fruit is cooking on the stove in hot olive oil. i wish i had some grapes and some sparkling wine. chocolate chip cookies are good too. oh yeah and cantaloupe. eggs boil too. i really want some. so uh yeah i only have 60 seconds and its about to be up. so bye
Boiling like a pot of tea on the stove. Boiling like the pot of water I’m waiting for that never seems to actually boil. Boiling because I’m mad at you. Boiling because you will never understand where I am coming from. Boiling is the way you make me feel right this second.
Hot water in a pot, add a pouch of blueberry tea but it’s too hot for me to drink. But I love my tea, I need it. Can’t feel my mouth now, hot hot hot hot, can’t not drink my tea though, need to finish it, need the caffeine, need to stay up all night to finish my last project of the year. Must Pass. this is it, my future depends on the caffeine i ingest. Must finish my cup. Must finish…
My soup is boiling on the stove like my love for my boy that is overflowing, but he doesn’t notice that it is overheating. Time is wasting and I am fleeting.
The room was boiling. Literally. She was sure of it. There was steam on the mirrors, and she was pretty sure steam was rising from her skin, and the air was rancid with the scent of sweat and exertion.
And she still couldn’t get this stupid arm bar right.
“It’s all about subtle movement,” Sensei said again, which wasn’t much of an explanation at all.
But she said, “Yes sir,” and tried the hold again.
Rob sprinkled some pepper into the boiling water, watching it simmer and swirl in satisfaction. This was going to be his best spaghetti yet. Forget Ramen noodles and Cup O’ Noodles, he was moving to the big time: full blown cook-it-yourself spaghetti. Now he was a real college student.
angry words you hurl at me like shards of glass make me boil over
every time you strike a match and throw it at me
i’m useless
with tears pouring out, scorching and burning what i thought was my pride
all because i thought i could love you
because i thought that nothing was everything
because you keep burning me
and i keep boiling
the water was too hot. i burnt my tongue on it. again. i hate when that happens. you can’t eat or drink properly forever after that. hell, it feels like you can’t even talk the same. the only good thing about burning your tongue is you appreciate your sense more after it. that’s the only thing.
i want to fly away soon, i wish i had wings to catch the sea in the sky as it boils, feel the heat rising and the peace of nature.
The thoughts that I have are at the point of boiling over.
In the swelter of the rusted tin shed, her sweat reached boiling point, her skin was red with welts. This was the Australian outback.
ok im just thincking damn it the same word makes it harder but i must make it i need to get creative, so ill make it in the next enty.
Keep me here. Trap me. I always end up thinking about you, but I have no idea if you ever think about me. I’m boiling over. I’m sick of feeling like this. Like a bad guy for nothing. I didn’t do anything. You changed, not me. I want to know what happened. I want to know if you miss me too. I want to know if we are just going different ways and that’s it. I need some sort of closure. I hate having to wonder. I don’t know if I should do something or not. Do you even want to hear from me? I hate this. I hate this so much.
She moved closer. Gliding, slinking, even. He felt the drops of perspiration on his forehead, on his chest, under his arms. His shirt felt tighter. With one hand suddenly on his neck, she moved closer and whispered into his ear: “Right now?”
many things boil, i like to boil water and mix it with oila and make pasta i like pasta because its really tasty.
The end is near. The moment we’ve been dreading our whole lives. Everything will change from this moment on. There’s fire in the skies and it seems like the whole world is on fire. This is your last chance to makes things right so do what you can to live right now. Don’t let any moment pass without being grateful and using every last breath wisely.
I knew from the moment I saw him that things would be different. He was not the same as everyone else, but different. He was everything I’ve ever wanted. But you don’t even know who I am. The worst part is me knowing but not you.
hot. evaporate. water. mist. cooking. food. adjective. verb. boiling point. scientific.
My heat my passion my love my desire thats what i normally think when i think steam or heat but now i think my rage my pain the anger the confusion you’ve given to me and i cant contain and i cant control it’s like the water’s almost gone and the ground is getting hot, hotter than ever and somethings got to crack, something has to break, shatter, explode but for some reason i really can’t force myself to hate you. but i want to hate you.
The water felt cool as the girls boiling body fell in temperature.
The babies fever kept rising, boiling points to nearly kill.
People live for this in summer.
Heat is unbearable.
boiling.
Its funny, it was just like a kettle. It starts of lukewarm, but the heat intensifies with each passing minute. Except, each minute is a situation. He pushes, she bends, until she cannot take anymore…yelling, screaming, cursing him. She reached her boiling point.
Boiling, something you do with eggs if you want a warm..slushy..gooey..nasty breakfast…except on easter! I felt like I was boiling up inside when my boss told me I was a complete waste of time after I quitted because they were total douchebags. Come to think of it..I really wanted to say something back to them…but I guess I’m the bigger person.
IVe reached my boiling point. Too much drama. Too much hate. Too many mean girls. I can’t deal with it. As I said ive reached my boiling point. And if the heat isn’t turned down, I’m not sure i can contain myself
Boiling. When does water boil? Does it decide to, like a person decides to be angry? Does it have to? Do people have to? Boil, I mean.
boiling. normally i think of my blood boiling in anger. But I haven’t written in so long, and I really have nothing to be so angry about – I’m quite apathetic these days. So, I just think of boiling water. Maybe some salt, to quicken it. And eggs. Or pasta, perhaps.
Water boiling over the surface into the walls onto the floor, the cat starts drinking it. You start yelling at the cat. The cat turns into a dragon and eats you. You’re now in side a dragons stomach you decide the best thing you can do is to do the hokey pokey.
The water rested in a pan and sat upon the blazing hot stove. Minutes later the water started boiling and nearly overflowed but a fragile hand roughly moved the pan to another burner.
Lillian watched the water boiling over the edge of the werid bowl shaped pond thing. It was odd seeing that, it was odd in general and completely uncalled for, but in thgis strange world the grass the pink grass brushing against her feet.
my heart is boiling whenever I see or think about shane.
he makes me sweaty
I love him
blah
sun
warmth
wish I was in a boiling shower with shane
Jin stared at the kettle resolutely, waiting for the water to start boiling.
One minute. Two. Five. Ten.
All she wanted was some tea. It was cold outside, her throat hurt, and all she really wanted to do was kiss Lizzy senseless, and she couldn’t.
All because the water wouldn’t boil for her tea.
Boiling water can be extremely unpleasant at times. One moment you could be enjoying a nice stroll around the kitchen when suddenly boiling water just comes out of no where and completely obliterates everything around you. Why you might ask? Well that’s just how boiling water is.
water
pasta
food
energy
bonds
chemistry
lava
heat
melt
smell
warts
burn
third degree
chemistry
harrison
Water begins to boil at a temperature of 220 degrees, give or take. As the water gets warmer it begins to bubble. I don’t know why water bubbles when it boils, but it does. I know that it takes a shorter amount of time to boil water on a gas stove, as an it does on an electric stove.
She was boiling mad. How could he have hurt her like this? How could he have tricked and mislead her. She had given him her heart, her soul….her life. And for what???
The water was scalding hot, yet I proceeded to stick my hand into the pot of boiling water. I was in terrible need of medical attention, yet for the first time I was feeling again. I was finally back into the land of the living. Having not felt anything for so long, the pain was welcomed.
hot hot water bubbling to the top on coiling tendrils of tiny beads of air clear and nearly intangible don’t touch they only scald they only hurt never touch. Look with your eyes passed lashes and air, see what cannot be touched only looking. Cushions of air push up on the water, reaching and groping for the ceiling trying their hardest to escape the clutches of moisture
The water was boiling as I stared, mesmerized. It was taunting me, laughing gleeful goblin chuckles. How could it read my mind? The insanity of my heart was read in the raucous rolling twisting raging steaming infuriating bubbles. I want to stop it. Can I? I can’t. I reach for it, desperate. The water bites back, you know. It hurts more than I can say. Already, the blister on my hand laughs at me as it begins to bubble likes its cruel maker.
My head whenever someone tells me to chill. How ironic.
The whole part that bothers me is that someone is giving me fucking order to relax.
Boiling? Such a random word to write about. Water boils. I hate when people say their “blood is boiling.” That’s a way to describe that you’re angry? I don’t really get it to be honest. I will never say “my blood is boiling” instead of saying “i’m upset” or “i’m angry.” EVER.
The boiling hot water cascaded down her body beautifully as she bathed. Her graceful movements were almost angelic; it appeared almost as if she was controlling the way the water moved.