I’ve wrote about this word 1 million times. does this word ever change because its really annoying. Braid its a braid nothing special its annoying please have other words so boringggggggggg.
the girl slowly twined her hair between her fingers, allowing the silky strands to flow freely though her hand. slowly the gathered three strands. twisting them to make them smooth into a braid.
My mother never knew how to french braid my hair when I was younger. She bought a kit that was supposed to help her do it, but could never figure out how it worked and my hair just ended up tangled. One day, I decided I would french braid my own hair. You just have to do it. You can’t look.
We lay closely intertwined; love braided us together, wove our arms around each other and entwined our hands. We twisted around each other, sometimes in directions opposite, but never far.
braids are really fun. they remind me of my mommy when i was younger and she used to braid my hair. braiding your hair is really easy to do and its nice when your hair is damp and then you let it dry like that because it gives you pretty waves. wearing braids can either make you look like youre five years old or you can look mature and super cute. i braid my hair when i’m really bored and i want to do my hair and i dont have a lot of time. i like braids they are supaahhh cute
Her hair was tied into a braid.
It was messy, like the rest of her. But I found it beautiful.
Her black hair that fell so perfectly on her face only made me love her more.
Too bad, she was a girl.
And so was I.
And it was wrong to the rest of the world.
Not to me.
But to the world.
i taught myself to braid hair on a unicorn when i was 5 years old. My grandma used to braid my hair when i was younger until i learned how to do it myself. I always braided my team mates har when i was in high school on the soccer team. I like my hair braided when i go on cruises.
The girl sat on the rug beside the fireplace. Her mother ran the teeth of the comb through her sleek black hair. Splitting the ahir into three she began to braid her daughters hair fastening it with a small black tie.
Braids. My hair was full of them each time my family took a trip to Mexico during my childhood. Those braids were my innocence. Now my trips to Mexico are anything but. But who am I to say anything? For I am just a young girl from the states who pretends to still wear those braids.
Braiding hair is something I’ve always wanted to do. I used to watch my mother and sister do it when I was younger and I always envied their skill at it. They always seemed to get it just right. My sister could even braid her own hair and have it look flawless. This was just one of the ways I always looked up to my big sister.
her hair fell down her back to curve with her spine, so dilapidated and worn, so unwont to the affections of others. but when she went out of her house, to brave the wild outside, the braid that fell down whipped about, flinging itself at all those who had hated her. it found her revenge when she could not.
HHMM… WELL, THERE ARE A LOT OF BRAIDS NOW A DAYS… OH MY IM ALL CAPS.. LOL. SORRY. AS MUCH AS I WANT TO BRAID MY HAIR, I CANT BECAUSE MY HAIR IS SHORT :(
braid? i do not know what braid is. it’s a word for me. just a word. can’t think what it could mean. why the hell i am supposed to write on it? though it rhymes with trade. or at least that’s what i think. shit man. what’s this?
i braided my hair today it didnt look good so i undid it and cut off my hair. serena williams has braided hair too. she should shave it. braid is almost brain, and i have one of those. i don’t know how to braid. I think only girls know how to do it.
We were like two strings of a braid intertwining,
One on top of the other,
Inside and outside.
With the third string of Collective Consciousness.
We all swam to form the stream of continuous consciousness.
We were the Braid.
My hair tired back, I am ready to go. I look up from the rim of my glasses and through my bangs and see him. Walking swiftly towards me. I look away and try to hid my smile. Just then he grabs my arm and pulls me close. His hands gripped tightly around mine. Our fingers lock together like a braid.
braids….running down her back…beautiful and graceful..thick and full…many…one…french…everyone unique…colorful ponies holding her braids in as she bounces and plays outside of her brooklynn brownstone…mama calls her in for dinner…she eats happily with her braids still in tow
when i was small my mom use to braid my hair. some times they were pigtails and other times they were pigtails. pigtails where all i wanted. my favorite memory of braids was my aunt french braiding my hair like hers. i would sit on the chair and she would braid my hair in such a way i wouldn’t want it out for days. and after they were taken out my hair would be crimped and i would feel beautiful for a moment.
i like to braid my hair, braids can be the braid of life where you braid people of different cultures together and mix them up. braids can be done in many different stlyes french braids fish tail braids braids look very cute on little girls and the pig tail kind triumph the single pony tail kind.
I wish I knew how to braid hair. I know how to braid other peoples’ hair but I can never braid my own. I think I would be able to french braid, but I have never tried. I think fishtail braids look super pretty! Single braids remind me of Katniss from The Hunger Games because that is her signature hairstyle.
the braid in her hair was beautiful, she loved the way it swayed in the wind and how each piece of it was intertwined into one another. when the flowers started to bloom, she picked them and carefully placed it in each section.
I think of my hair when I see this word because I have so much of it. I also think of connectivity and how everything is related. and even humans are related, I was thinking about how people are inatily connected and we all put off vibrations for each other, ones that we can all feel.
It’s long and twisted, winding it’s way down her back. Strands are coming free, which is to be expected after such a long, physical day. Still, she’s beautiful and the dark hair is just one of her many beautiful features.
Thanks Mama for braiding my hair every night before I went to bed for the whole year when I was seven, because because of you and because of that now I know what to do for my daughter when she’s seven and boys have cuties and she’s realizing that Mommy can’t fix everything but is going to try anyway.
she wore her hair the way he remembered. Soft weaves into the single braid from her crown to the ends. The few soft waves that escaped lingered around her face, he noticed they matched her eyes when they looked up to meet his stare.
Misty grabs her little sister’s hair and begins braiding it intricatley in her hands. This reminds her of her mother. Her mother passed away five years ago and now they are in a girl’s home just south of London, England.
The girl’s flaxen hair was plaited into a long rope that hung down her back and swayed back and forth as she walked toward the well encased by a short stone wall. The bucket she carried bumped against her leg with the cadence of her step
Like the sun it shines so golden, fallen ever so gently onto and over the green green grass. Beautiful.
Harps that sing play a melody so sweet.
Bind her spirit and mind with the passionate affiliation of life.
It swung behind him, a long length of woven hair. Like a tail, like a brand, he kept it neat and clean, even in the middle of fighting a dozen zombies. The same could not be said about any of the rest of him.
One time I decided that I wanted to learn how to braid so I did. Then I decided to take it a step further and learn how to french braid. i didn’t have anyone to practice on so I decided to practice on my own hair. I later learned how to do it to other people’s hair and people were rather impressed because they didn’t see me doing that kind of thing. I like to surprise. That’s all.
She pulled her thick braid off the side of her neck, wringing out the excess water. Kelly was tired of listening to everything he said. Every word, every sentence, every syllable was now unbearable. She wished she could cut off that braid and wrap it around his neck so that the sound of his voice would no longer be audible to the rest of the world.
I remember the way my friend used to braid my hair in elementary school, how we went to Quebec in grade seven and we sat in the bathroom during a tour of one of the museums, because we were bored and didn’t care about anything the tour guide was saying, and how she French braided my hair. I remember coming home from the trip and trying to teach myself to braid my hair, but how I could never get it to look as nicely as she did. I remember my mom trying to braid it, wetting it with the spray bottle from underneath the kitchen sink.
how random of a word to give me…
I suppose life is random, and no matter what some choices we have no control of the options.
Thats life, its not all up to us all the time.
her hair was long. brown, but faded from the summer. tied neatly behind her back with a little string, she played with it while she waited. she hated these things, hated all the frowns and the black but most of all she hated the waiting. she supposed funerals were a necessity for most though, and endured. if not for them then at least for him.
She walked down the street. Everyone noticed. She turned even though her hair wasn’t hers, that braid bouncing off her back wasn’t hers. Cancer hasn’t defeated her, not yet.
I haven’t written anything on this site in a while, and the first word I get is braid? How the heck am I supposed to write something interesting about a braid?
Here it goes: Her hair was braided with lust; the gold strands shimmering with the light of his fingertips.
Her thick blonde braid flapped behind her, emulating the flapping wings of the bird soaring in the sky above. The afternoon was hot and sticky, but the girl didn’t mind. As long as her hair was fastened into its trusty braid, she could enjoy the summer day and watch the bird trace a pattern in the bold blue sky.
I’ve wrote about this word 1 million times. does this word ever change because its really annoying. Braid its a braid nothing special its annoying please have other words so boringggggggggg.
the girl slowly twined her hair between her fingers, allowing the silky strands to flow freely though her hand. slowly the gathered three strands. twisting them to make them smooth into a braid.
My mother never knew how to french braid my hair when I was younger. She bought a kit that was supposed to help her do it, but could never figure out how it worked and my hair just ended up tangled. One day, I decided I would french braid my own hair. You just have to do it. You can’t look.
We lay closely intertwined; love braided us together, wove our arms around each other and entwined our hands. We twisted around each other, sometimes in directions opposite, but never far.
Braids.
Three clumps of hair tangled within each other.
And tied with a rubber band at the end.
braids are really fun. they remind me of my mommy when i was younger and she used to braid my hair. braiding your hair is really easy to do and its nice when your hair is damp and then you let it dry like that because it gives you pretty waves. wearing braids can either make you look like youre five years old or you can look mature and super cute. i braid my hair when i’m really bored and i want to do my hair and i dont have a lot of time. i like braids they are supaahhh cute
Her hair was tied into a braid.
It was messy, like the rest of her. But I found it beautiful.
Her black hair that fell so perfectly on her face only made me love her more.
Too bad, she was a girl.
And so was I.
And it was wrong to the rest of the world.
Not to me.
But to the world.
i taught myself to braid hair on a unicorn when i was 5 years old. My grandma used to braid my hair when i was younger until i learned how to do it myself. I always braided my team mates har when i was in high school on the soccer team. I like my hair braided when i go on cruises.
The girl sat on the rug beside the fireplace. Her mother ran the teeth of the comb through her sleek black hair. Splitting the ahir into three she began to braid her daughters hair fastening it with a small black tie.
Braids. My hair was full of them each time my family took a trip to Mexico during my childhood. Those braids were my innocence. Now my trips to Mexico are anything but. But who am I to say anything? For I am just a young girl from the states who pretends to still wear those braids.
Braiding hair is something I’ve always wanted to do. I used to watch my mother and sister do it when I was younger and I always envied their skill at it. They always seemed to get it just right. My sister could even braid her own hair and have it look flawless. This was just one of the ways I always looked up to my big sister.
her hair fell down her back to curve with her spine, so dilapidated and worn, so unwont to the affections of others. but when she went out of her house, to brave the wild outside, the braid that fell down whipped about, flinging itself at all those who had hated her. it found her revenge when she could not.
HHMM… WELL, THERE ARE A LOT OF BRAIDS NOW A DAYS… OH MY IM ALL CAPS.. LOL. SORRY. AS MUCH AS I WANT TO BRAID MY HAIR, I CANT BECAUSE MY HAIR IS SHORT :(
braid? i do not know what braid is. it’s a word for me. just a word. can’t think what it could mean. why the hell i am supposed to write on it? though it rhymes with trade. or at least that’s what i think. shit man. what’s this?
i braided my hair today it didnt look good so i undid it and cut off my hair. serena williams has braided hair too. she should shave it. braid is almost brain, and i have one of those. i don’t know how to braid. I think only girls know how to do it.
We were like two strings of a braid intertwining,
One on top of the other,
Inside and outside.
With the third string of Collective Consciousness.
We all swam to form the stream of continuous consciousness.
We were the Braid.
My hair tired back, I am ready to go. I look up from the rim of my glasses and through my bangs and see him. Walking swiftly towards me. I look away and try to hid my smile. Just then he grabs my arm and pulls me close. His hands gripped tightly around mine. Our fingers lock together like a braid.
braids….running down her back…beautiful and graceful..thick and full…many…one…french…everyone unique…colorful ponies holding her braids in as she bounces and plays outside of her brooklynn brownstone…mama calls her in for dinner…she eats happily with her braids still in tow
when i was small my mom use to braid my hair. some times they were pigtails and other times they were pigtails. pigtails where all i wanted. my favorite memory of braids was my aunt french braiding my hair like hers. i would sit on the chair and she would braid my hair in such a way i wouldn’t want it out for days. and after they were taken out my hair would be crimped and i would feel beautiful for a moment.
I love them. Clean, classy, timeless. I never really had them as my hair has always been short. Maybe now that I’m 50, I’ll live my life in braids.
i like to braid my hair, braids can be the braid of life where you braid people of different cultures together and mix them up. braids can be done in many different stlyes french braids fish tail braids braids look very cute on little girls and the pig tail kind triumph the single pony tail kind.
I wish I knew how to braid hair. I know how to braid other peoples’ hair but I can never braid my own. I think I would be able to french braid, but I have never tried. I think fishtail braids look super pretty! Single braids remind me of Katniss from The Hunger Games because that is her signature hairstyle.
the braid in her hair was beautiful, she loved the way it swayed in the wind and how each piece of it was intertwined into one another. when the flowers started to bloom, she picked them and carefully placed it in each section.
I think of my hair when I see this word because I have so much of it. I also think of connectivity and how everything is related. and even humans are related, I was thinking about how people are inatily connected and we all put off vibrations for each other, ones that we can all feel.
i love me a woven rope of dark brown shine weighing down indicating health beautiful strength
It’s long and twisted, winding it’s way down her back. Strands are coming free, which is to be expected after such a long, physical day. Still, she’s beautiful and the dark hair is just one of her many beautiful features.
Thanks Mama for braiding my hair every night before I went to bed for the whole year when I was seven, because because of you and because of that now I know what to do for my daughter when she’s seven and boys have cuties and she’s realizing that Mommy can’t fix everything but is going to try anyway.
she wore her hair the way he remembered. Soft weaves into the single braid from her crown to the ends. The few soft waves that escaped lingered around her face, he noticed they matched her eyes when they looked up to meet his stare.
Misty grabs her little sister’s hair and begins braiding it intricatley in her hands. This reminds her of her mother. Her mother passed away five years ago and now they are in a girl’s home just south of London, England.
The girl’s flaxen hair was plaited into a long rope that hung down her back and swayed back and forth as she walked toward the well encased by a short stone wall. The bucket she carried bumped against her leg with the cadence of her step
Like the sun it shines so golden, fallen ever so gently onto and over the green green grass. Beautiful.
Harps that sing play a melody so sweet.
Bind her spirit and mind with the passionate affiliation of life.
It swung behind him, a long length of woven hair. Like a tail, like a brand, he kept it neat and clean, even in the middle of fighting a dozen zombies. The same could not be said about any of the rest of him.
One time I decided that I wanted to learn how to braid so I did. Then I decided to take it a step further and learn how to french braid. i didn’t have anyone to practice on so I decided to practice on my own hair. I later learned how to do it to other people’s hair and people were rather impressed because they didn’t see me doing that kind of thing. I like to surprise. That’s all.
She pulled her thick braid off the side of her neck, wringing out the excess water. Kelly was tired of listening to everything he said. Every word, every sentence, every syllable was now unbearable. She wished she could cut off that braid and wrap it around his neck so that the sound of his voice would no longer be audible to the rest of the world.
I remember the way my friend used to braid my hair in elementary school, how we went to Quebec in grade seven and we sat in the bathroom during a tour of one of the museums, because we were bored and didn’t care about anything the tour guide was saying, and how she French braided my hair. I remember coming home from the trip and trying to teach myself to braid my hair, but how I could never get it to look as nicely as she did. I remember my mom trying to braid it, wetting it with the spray bottle from underneath the kitchen sink.
Braid, what is braid?
how random of a word to give me…
I suppose life is random, and no matter what some choices we have no control of the options.
Thats life, its not all up to us all the time.
We just have to accept this.
her hair was long. brown, but faded from the summer. tied neatly behind her back with a little string, she played with it while she waited. she hated these things, hated all the frowns and the black but most of all she hated the waiting. she supposed funerals were a necessity for most though, and endured. if not for them then at least for him.
She walked down the street. Everyone noticed. She turned even though her hair wasn’t hers, that braid bouncing off her back wasn’t hers. Cancer hasn’t defeated her, not yet.
I haven’t written anything on this site in a while, and the first word I get is braid? How the heck am I supposed to write something interesting about a braid?
Here it goes: Her hair was braided with lust; the gold strands shimmering with the light of his fingertips.
Her thick blonde braid flapped behind her, emulating the flapping wings of the bird soaring in the sky above. The afternoon was hot and sticky, but the girl didn’t mind. As long as her hair was fastened into its trusty braid, she could enjoy the summer day and watch the bird trace a pattern in the bold blue sky.