the foundation of walls.
it’s tough
hard to break
it’s what everyone wishes to be
but wishes never to build with
they don’t want walls-but create them anyway
oh how i long for the day
when walls are built of clouds and not
bricks
houses are brick. they are cold. bricks are thick like some peoples minds. they are hard to break but eventually something will crumble and come undone. and when it comes undone no one will remember what was happening the moment before. and become as stone, become a brick.
with my hands up and my eyes closed i could feel His presence all around me. It was then that i knew i was letting my walls down. Brick by brick. i was turning towards God instead of humans or myself for help.
brick walls surround me in my apartment complex. i think most of them have been here for over a hundred years, effectively making this home more theirs than mine. i wonder how many people have walked around them. how many people have felt alone surrounded by all of the memories.
Brick- a aid to build, a monument to shield, keep, and preserve. A house to keep a family started or growing. The brick that would keep it all together.
the brick wall, hard against her back. She never thought this would be her last resort. she felt the scratches and scrapes forming as her body was being tossed around. She had nothing left for anyone. So why not give it all away.
Bricks are ordinary. They are the same. Nothing is unique about them. Its like they conform to the simple structures of our lives. But we should build our lives out of ordinary things. We should choose things that are whacky and incoherent. Things that don’t make sense because we don’t make sense. Our lives don’t make sense. Structure doesn’t exist if you live freely so make the most out the whacky pieces you’ve built.
Bricks are weird things. they are used to build things. they can be used many ways, though, like you can throw them at people. or use them to build stairs. and stuff.
She had always considered her dad the brick in the family. He was always there, silent but powerful, at the head of the dinner table, eating his meals in supportive silence. The football player. The business man. The ultimate dad. The stroke changed him; broke down the brick that held up everything we’d always been. Broken up our family, in its entirety.
I was going so smoothly. Everything was fine. Then I hit a brick… I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t react. All I could think about was that brick. What was the brick? Where did it come from. All I knew is that I wanted to get rid of it… it became my obsession.
Brick. The word hits you hard, like a ton of _______. I guess the word does its job.
Dumb as a…
Solid as a…
They make foundations and foundations are the base of everything.
Brick wall. Brick. Brick. Brick. Prick. Prick. Prick. Mix the cement down and create a sidewalk toward home. I wonder if I’ll ever move away from my hometown. Will I adopt to a new place? I wonder…wonder…wonder. Throw a brick in the future and see what happens next.
he couldn’t handle what i was saying out loud so i hit him with a heavy, dark red brick. i had it in my hand and i hurled it at him in sheer anger, disdain and disgust. he deserved it and i hope he felt the very center of that heavy object hit his brain and i hope that it hurt.
The window shatters with a sudden explosive crash, that almost stops my heart. I throw myself to the floor, and when i raise my head I’m face to face with a brick- deep red with black flecks, and rubber banded with a piece of paper. I pull out the paper with trembling fingers, and unfold it. The words glare at me in a black, spidery scrawl. ‘TONIGHT.’
her gut felt as heavy as a brick, literally and figuratively, as she thought about the day ahead of her tomorrow. how is she supposed to do this job and not let it way her down? all she says all day is no. all people do is get angry at her. and then she goes home alone, to her empty bed and empty room. her job is to get yelled at and there’s nothing to balance it out. and the whole time politeness is what matters most apparently.
red brick covered an old rustic house. it was lonesome. why did he choose to live this way? was it because of his brother? were the memories that harsh? that he had to punish himself for it? Brick was definitely not her style. not after this.
The brick flew through the glass. A hand reached in and twisted the door handle. They didn’t take anything. They just walked around the house, fed the cat, looked at the pictures, and left. All that was left of him was a note that said, you need to paint the walls a different color.
bricks stacked. one on top of the other. small,big, rough, and crumbling. we are the bricks. we build society. one day we will come tumbling down. the big bricks will fall from the top and the small bricks will be crushed beneath. every brick will be equal, scattered on the ground.
there once was a young women that lived in a very small town. She had very little money and she had to build a house that would last through out the years. She thought about the materials she waould need and decided on building a brick house, this ensured her that she would have a safe home for many years to come.
bricks are red, bricks are heavy and rough. you use them to build things and throw them at annoying people who live in glass houses. you use them in songs like rick james she’s a brick houseeeeee..yeah idk what else about bricks. dylan lives in brick township..its a town with lots of bricks i guess. bricks!!
I sometimes wish i had lived in a brick house. These new wooden ones seem to burn, and fall, and become decrepit so easily. Maybe it’s family stuff. A strong house means a strong family right?
house, wall, strong, bold, impossible to break, old, elegant, rich, wealthy, hard, i like brick houses because they are elegant and look strong and wealthy and old-school, vintage. I think of laying brick. building it and plastering them together one by one to make a strong wall. Impenetrable. weather proof. long lasting. she’s a brick house means that she’s strong and can take care of herself. she’s hard to get.
the brick was an interesting thing. it was square and concrete. hard. solid. and it was falling faster than anything had ever fallen before. and she saw it coming, but she didn’t move. she opened her arms to it even. it was like she was welcoming an old friend. and she reached for it as it came and when it did, she said, “i love you.”
The rhythmic cadence escalated to a deafening level, throbbing though doug’s awareness. The textured pattern of the brick wall before him began to warp and breathe in time.
The brick is the corner stone of our lives. With out this integral piece of stone and heart we would be but lost souls in the wind. All hail the brick of delight and life.
Bricks remind me of homes. Like an old brick house. They’re red. And brickish. And I tie them together to pain in my mind. Odd but true. Pain if one drops on your foot, or you hit a brick wall. That’s what I think of when I see the word brick.
and the city was built in one minute, brick by brick. it was quite amazing you see, because the people there had no knowledge of time, just beauty and the beautification of things.
Her stomach fell like a pile of bricks, hearing the news. She couldn’t believe it, that her love, her life, was really gone. She didn’t know just how she managed to stand, what with the ache in her heart.
Hard and useful atleast I’d like to think there used plenty. Considering my house is made out of bricks.. or it was.. i dont know!!! Uhhh In the opposite game I use brick a lot especially when the word i like brownies or something random because it is actually known as the random game and my teacher made it up oh! We’re still talking about bricks.. lets see here… i like bricks.
a brick is red. it makes the houses that pigs live in to get away from the big bad wolf. my grandmothers house is made of brick. I think bricks are ugly
My grandfather, as a 12 year old barefoot boy of French-Canadian immigrants helps make the bricks to put up a bridge, that still stands nearly 100 years later in Elk River, Minnestota.
that feeling is quite intense, a rough rigid texture rubbing against your hands, scaring them harder then the’ve ever been before. it’s difficult to believe that something so helpful can bring you down so much.
hard, stable, solid, home, painful, harsh, protection, red, clay, country, family, casa, safety, weather proof, material, uhh???
the foundation of walls.
it’s tough
hard to break
it’s what everyone wishes to be
but wishes never to build with
they don’t want walls-but create them anyway
oh how i long for the day
when walls are built of clouds and not
bricks
houses are brick. they are cold. bricks are thick like some peoples minds. they are hard to break but eventually something will crumble and come undone. and when it comes undone no one will remember what was happening the moment before. and become as stone, become a brick.
with my hands up and my eyes closed i could feel His presence all around me. It was then that i knew i was letting my walls down. Brick by brick. i was turning towards God instead of humans or myself for help.
brick walls surround me in my apartment complex. i think most of them have been here for over a hundred years, effectively making this home more theirs than mine. i wonder how many people have walked around them. how many people have felt alone surrounded by all of the memories.
Brick- a aid to build, a monument to shield, keep, and preserve. A house to keep a family started or growing. The brick that would keep it all together.
the brick wall, hard against her back. She never thought this would be her last resort. she felt the scratches and scrapes forming as her body was being tossed around. She had nothing left for anyone. So why not give it all away.
Bricks are ordinary. They are the same. Nothing is unique about them. Its like they conform to the simple structures of our lives. But we should build our lives out of ordinary things. We should choose things that are whacky and incoherent. Things that don’t make sense because we don’t make sense. Our lives don’t make sense. Structure doesn’t exist if you live freely so make the most out the whacky pieces you’ve built.
earth´s gift to human hands, one by one in the sunny fields waiting and burned , building civilizations through out time
Bricks are weird things. they are used to build things. they can be used many ways, though, like you can throw them at people. or use them to build stairs. and stuff.
She had always considered her dad the brick in the family. He was always there, silent but powerful, at the head of the dinner table, eating his meals in supportive silence. The football player. The business man. The ultimate dad. The stroke changed him; broke down the brick that held up everything we’d always been. Broken up our family, in its entirety.
I was going so smoothly. Everything was fine. Then I hit a brick… I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t react. All I could think about was that brick. What was the brick? Where did it come from. All I knew is that I wanted to get rid of it… it became my obsession.
Brick. The word hits you hard, like a ton of _______. I guess the word does its job.
Dumb as a…
Solid as a…
They make foundations and foundations are the base of everything.
Brick wall. Brick. Brick. Brick. Prick. Prick. Prick. Mix the cement down and create a sidewalk toward home. I wonder if I’ll ever move away from my hometown. Will I adopt to a new place? I wonder…wonder…wonder. Throw a brick in the future and see what happens next.
he couldn’t handle what i was saying out loud so i hit him with a heavy, dark red brick. i had it in my hand and i hurled it at him in sheer anger, disdain and disgust. he deserved it and i hope he felt the very center of that heavy object hit his brain and i hope that it hurt.
houses strong designed since long , addittion texture, irregularity, earth oven, earth´s gift in human hands
The window shatters with a sudden explosive crash, that almost stops my heart. I throw myself to the floor, and when i raise my head I’m face to face with a brick- deep red with black flecks, and rubber banded with a piece of paper. I pull out the paper with trembling fingers, and unfold it. The words glare at me in a black, spidery scrawl. ‘TONIGHT.’
her gut felt as heavy as a brick, literally and figuratively, as she thought about the day ahead of her tomorrow. how is she supposed to do this job and not let it way her down? all she says all day is no. all people do is get angry at her. and then she goes home alone, to her empty bed and empty room. her job is to get yelled at and there’s nothing to balance it out. and the whole time politeness is what matters most apparently.
my old house. red. several to build a house. holes on the inside. cement to hold brick together. white. pink. grey. sturdy. hard. rough. heavy.
red brick covered an old rustic house. it was lonesome. why did he choose to live this way? was it because of his brother? were the memories that harsh? that he had to punish himself for it? Brick was definitely not her style. not after this.
The brick flew through the glass. A hand reached in and twisted the door handle. They didn’t take anything. They just walked around the house, fed the cat, looked at the pictures, and left. All that was left of him was a note that said, you need to paint the walls a different color.
bricks stacked. one on top of the other. small,big, rough, and crumbling. we are the bricks. we build society. one day we will come tumbling down. the big bricks will fall from the top and the small bricks will be crushed beneath. every brick will be equal, scattered on the ground.
there once was a young women that lived in a very small town. She had very little money and she had to build a house that would last through out the years. She thought about the materials she waould need and decided on building a brick house, this ensured her that she would have a safe home for many years to come.
bricks are red, bricks are heavy and rough. you use them to build things and throw them at annoying people who live in glass houses. you use them in songs like rick james she’s a brick houseeeeee..yeah idk what else about bricks. dylan lives in brick township..its a town with lots of bricks i guess. bricks!!
I sometimes wish i had lived in a brick house. These new wooden ones seem to burn, and fall, and become decrepit so easily. Maybe it’s family stuff. A strong house means a strong family right?
house, wall, strong, bold, impossible to break, old, elegant, rich, wealthy, hard, i like brick houses because they are elegant and look strong and wealthy and old-school, vintage. I think of laying brick. building it and plastering them together one by one to make a strong wall. Impenetrable. weather proof. long lasting. she’s a brick house means that she’s strong and can take care of herself. she’s hard to get.
the brick was an interesting thing. it was square and concrete. hard. solid. and it was falling faster than anything had ever fallen before. and she saw it coming, but she didn’t move. she opened her arms to it even. it was like she was welcoming an old friend. and she reached for it as it came and when it did, she said, “i love you.”
The rhythmic cadence escalated to a deafening level, throbbing though doug’s awareness. The textured pattern of the brick wall before him began to warp and breathe in time.
The brick is the corner stone of our lives. With out this integral piece of stone and heart we would be but lost souls in the wind. All hail the brick of delight and life.
Seifer’s words hit her like a sack of bricks. She looks at him, stunned.
“AWKWARD,” is all she says before she turns away.
Bricks remind me of homes. Like an old brick house. They’re red. And brickish. And I tie them together to pain in my mind. Odd but true. Pain if one drops on your foot, or you hit a brick wall. That’s what I think of when I see the word brick.
and the city was built in one minute, brick by brick. it was quite amazing you see, because the people there had no knowledge of time, just beauty and the beautification of things.
Her stomach fell like a pile of bricks, hearing the news. She couldn’t believe it, that her love, her life, was really gone. She didn’t know just how she managed to stand, what with the ache in her heart.
Love
Hate
Cry
Him
Me
We
Sweet
Jam
Cry
Cant
Caw
Oh
Hard and useful atleast I’d like to think there used plenty. Considering my house is made out of bricks.. or it was.. i dont know!!! Uhhh In the opposite game I use brick a lot especially when the word i like brownies or something random because it is actually known as the random game and my teacher made it up oh! We’re still talking about bricks.. lets see here… i like bricks.
red, stupid, hard, break my head, deterrence, heavy, house, stupid, EVIL
a brick is red. it makes the houses that pigs live in to get away from the big bad wolf. my grandmothers house is made of brick. I think bricks are ugly
My grandfather, as a 12 year old barefoot boy of French-Canadian immigrants helps make the bricks to put up a bridge, that still stands nearly 100 years later in Elk River, Minnestota.
that feeling is quite intense, a rough rigid texture rubbing against your hands, scaring them harder then the’ve ever been before. it’s difficult to believe that something so helpful can bring you down so much.
Red brick house in london, very beautiful, i wish i could live in a house like this. SHE’S A BRICK HOUSE!!!!