they had to burrow down and down. deeper and deeper still until they reached as far as they could. when at last they stopped they could only hope that it would be support enough.
“I burrowed in the ground to find the diamonds.”
“What?” I asked.
“I burrowed,” Tony Answered. He looked a little shifty eyed.
“What are you even talking about?” I was confused. Really confused. Firstly- burrowing for diamonds in the backyard?? Really? Tony has always been a sucky liar, but this was ridiculous.
“Ok, Tony.” I said, “You were burrowing for diamonds? In the backyard?”
“yes.”
“And that’s why our garden looks like a tornado hit?”
“Yes…”
I nodded, looking over the chaotic mess. Dirt everywhere, the carrots were unrooted.. My cabbage was pretty much history.
“Well, Tony… How about five seconds for a better story?”
That was when the hand shot out of the ground. like a Human hand.
Burrowing for diamonds? I think not.
The snake sunk down into the sand as much as it could. The sun was hot and shot rays of fire down upon it, but it had not warmed up enough to move. Still coming out of the slumber from the cold desert night, it had much to do and so little time before its precious hours in the sun were up.
Sometimes I wonder how I let you get to me. It’s as if I lay down in the filth and soil, inviting my affection for you to burrow into my heart like a greedy parasite.
Burrows are the homes of moles. Moles are blind. Blind people can’t see. The sea is bright blue. Blue seagulls are not common. Common people done’t burrow. Burrows are the homes of moles.
Krista likes to burrow. She enjoys doing so when she wakes up and is very tired. Her blankets act as her fortress and she hides away from the sunlight, which is very bright. Krista defends herself from the cold air in her burrow. It is hard, but she holds her pee because it’s cold.
The rabbit invited me to a quiet tea party. Being that we were going to be neighbours, some pleasantries were in order. In his burrow everything was covered in a soft velvet cloth, tinted burgundy. His tea was sweet but not overly so. The winter was harsh on all of us, specially on his food supply. Yet he was extremely hospitable. With great mastery he made a cocktail of carrots and celery worthy of the most picky palates. A marvellous chap.
I burrow into my feelings and my deepest nightmares, layers upon layers of discarded information that built up over years like soil deposits. Reflection, real reflection, is an archaeological dig. You find yourself sectioning off the area into blocks and keeping track of what sites, what points in time in your life were the most active, which had something unique about them compared to the other years.
I feel old.
It hurts to see how much, how many parts of me, I’ve buried all this time.
What gravity is warping the space time within the confines of this coffeeshop? Four second eye contact twenty times in the past twenty seconds? Who, who is this bold stranger who fiercely and with such confidence burrows her beautiful bunny eyes into the field of my vision, she who digs her eyes into my eyes every chance I give her, every time I look as I look up from my oneword of which her adorable face will not let me write? I can’t resist; I can’t type; my fingers swell with extra blood. All my meditation — allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll my meditation — cannot cease the temptation, tempt, tempt, tempt, temptation!! O Zen Master, master, I’m failing! O Desires, how you can turn a desert into a real oasis at the instance of your indulgence. How you hang grapes before my mouth — you, you best believe Eve never stood a chance. I surrender to the force of the season! O how brutal Springtime can be when one chooses solitude. Seeing the birds chase the birds, the squirrels chase the squirrels — it hurts to watch them. Even the blossoms leave bruises! Shall I test her with with a word to see if she can sing as beautiful as she is? I will, right…now.
gopher is strange he used the paper towels to hide is cookie.Birds smell like birds so when they eat they don’t know how to look like elvis and catch catapillars
She couldn’t get deep enough under the covers, her pillow over her head. She tried to block out the light in hopes to block out the voices, repeating over and over again, telling her she wasn’t good enough, that she’d never be good enough. They were violently terrifying tonight and nothing she did could make them stop. Pillow after pillow, blanket after blanket, and she was still plagued by their vicious words. Words echoing the same things her partner had said only hours before. Had it only been hours? Had she really only been left alone for such a short time to fall so far? Alone again but never truly alone. Broken, bruised, damaged, but still unfortunately alive.
deep into the ground she went.
nose first.
tiny paws.
scuffling onward. forward.
her nose could smell it.
she could smell the badger.
i will get it.
i will get the badger.
said the dachshund.
A burrow is a place the bunnies sleep in. They’re found in the ground. I really love bunnies. I wish they made burrows big enough for people like me to go in and snuggle up to some bunnies. That would be really something. Who wouldn’t want to live with bunnies?
Burrows remind me of rabbits and how they burrow into the ground. I wish they wouldn’t stay in the ground. I like to see them, it’s so sad how they hide. They just need a friend.
Prestar algo, es prestar atencion, dar amor, apoyar, significa muchas cosas, aunque mas aunque significar muchas cosas, tiene diferentes sinonimos. Prestar es darle a alguien algo que necesita que es tuyo para poder ayudarlos.
Rabbits live in burrows, and Hobbits live in burrow-like homes. It’s interesting to think that many small creatures can live in these dark, damp places. Although, I’d imagine that they’d be very cool when it came to the raging summer heats of the Arizona deserts. Or maybe the Sahara desert.. I don’t know. Then again, I think it’d be really cool to live in a Hobbit burrow.
Burrow into the side of the cliff
Watch the procession of tides
Sigh with each
Sunrise and sunset
Bath in moonlight slivers
Pretend it doesn’t hurt, ignore the pain
Know your sorrow can be cured with time
The ache will always fade away
You’ll emerge from that cave someday
…I’ve said this many times, but sometimes that which takes root…
Well, it has a way of growing back, doesn’t it? You can clear away old vines and thorns, but sometimes they return even stronger, even thicker.
I would like to burrow like a mole. I would like to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. I would like to dig through the dirt like a worm, eating up the soil and bumping into rocks.
something that is a place for little furry creatures to live in they have big families and they are underground and there are paths and the animals are cute. they are a confusing maze of areas to live in
I want to burrow in someone’s heart and never come back out. I want to be apart of something that to be without would mean death. Can I have your heart as an escape?
There was a family. The Weasley family, to be exact. They lived in a house, which they called”The Burrow”. It wasn’t the nicest of homes, no, but they loved it. There was Bill, Percy, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Arthur, and Molly.
It was groundhogs day. Waiting for the arrival of spring was like waiting for your life to renew itself. Like nothing happened before and this is the time for me to leave the past behind. The groundhog crept out of its burrow and a grin made its way across my face.
Her gravity is warping space time. Four second eye contact twenty times in the past ten seconds? Who, who is this bold stranger who fiercely and with such confidence burrows her bunny eyes into the field of my vision, she who digs her eyes into my eyes every chance I give her, every time I look back after I look up from my oneword of which her adorable face will not let me write? I can’t resist; I can’t even type; my fingers swell with extra blood. All my meditation — allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll my meditation — cannot cease the temptation, temptation, tempt, tempt, tempt, temptation!! O Zen Master, master, I’m failing! O Desires, how you can turn a desert into a real oasis at the instance of your indulgence. I surrender to the force of the season! O how hard springtime is when one chooses solitude. Seeing the birds chase the birds, the squirrels chase the squirrels — it hurts to watch them. Even blossoms leave bruises! I should give her my oneword to see if she can sing as beautiful as she is. I will right…now.
burrow. I think he meant burro, well, all these gringos talk the same. I offeredhim to go to the nearest train station, see if he can catch a train over there, maybe because he’s american and all he can get a train, I have known no mexican who could, but you know, these guys do miracles.
I am finally making my way out of the burrow I have dug myself into. These last few months, I have been deep here in the dark, suffocating. I am reaching out, and pulling myself into the sunshine once more. I can breathe.
It was small, like the tiniest of caves or an animals burrow. But still, it was dry and reasonably warm which, considering the circumstances, was a far sight better than anything else we could find.
The inside was cramped, forcing us to live practically on top of one another, but that was nothing new, not really. At least there was room for us both to lay down, with the added bonus of a small fire to keep the wintry chill at bay.
Her gravity is warping space time. Four second eye contact twenty times in the past ten seconds? Who, who is this bold stranger who fiercely and with such confidence burrows her bunny eyes into the field of my vision, she who digs her eyes into my eyes every chance I give her, every time I look back after I look up from my oneword of which her adorable face will not let me write? I can’t resist; I can’t even type, my fingers swell with extra blood. All my meditation cannot cease the temptation! O Zen Master, I’m failing! O Desires, how you can turn a desert into a real oasis at the instance of your indulgence. I surrender to the force of the season! O how hard springtime is when one chooses solitude. Seeing the birds chase the birds, the squirrels chase the squirrels — it hurts to watch them. even blossoms leave bruises! I should give her my oneword to see if she can sing as beautiful as she is. I will right…now.
I burrow my head deep into the sheets and pillows. The smell of Tide and bleach engulfed my body. I fell into a deep, deep, sleep for the next few hours. I woke up with dried tears and a very worried look on my face. I that a lot of things weren’t gonna be okay. I had to make them okay myself, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to.
I just want to burrow under the blankets and ward off the flying colours, the sharp polygons stabbing through the air, searching for my flesh, oh my darling, don’t let me sink tonight; oh my darling, don’t let me go.
I want to make a burrow and then lay there not interacting with anyone. I want to die, and I want them to forget every horrible thing I have ever done. I want to stare into an empty space without a sick thought coming to my mind of how filthy my existence is.
A spring bunny came out today for us
A day full of hazy laughs
You know how it goes on April 20th
What a day
Wish I could burrow into some blankets with you
(after we play some mario kart)
Looking forward to the future
they had to burrow down and down. deeper and deeper still until they reached as far as they could. when at last they stopped they could only hope that it would be support enough.
“I burrowed in the ground to find the diamonds.”
“What?” I asked.
“I burrowed,” Tony Answered. He looked a little shifty eyed.
“What are you even talking about?” I was confused. Really confused. Firstly- burrowing for diamonds in the backyard?? Really? Tony has always been a sucky liar, but this was ridiculous.
“Ok, Tony.” I said, “You were burrowing for diamonds? In the backyard?”
“yes.”
“And that’s why our garden looks like a tornado hit?”
“Yes…”
I nodded, looking over the chaotic mess. Dirt everywhere, the carrots were unrooted.. My cabbage was pretty much history.
“Well, Tony… How about five seconds for a better story?”
That was when the hand shot out of the ground. like a Human hand.
Burrowing for diamonds? I think not.
The snake sunk down into the sand as much as it could. The sun was hot and shot rays of fire down upon it, but it had not warmed up enough to move. Still coming out of the slumber from the cold desert night, it had much to do and so little time before its precious hours in the sun were up.
Sometimes, I really wish I could burrow into a hole and just hide there forever.
Sometimes I wonder how I let you get to me. It’s as if I lay down in the filth and soil, inviting my affection for you to burrow into my heart like a greedy parasite.
Burrows are the homes of moles. Moles are blind. Blind people can’t see. The sea is bright blue. Blue seagulls are not common. Common people done’t burrow. Burrows are the homes of moles.
Krista likes to burrow. She enjoys doing so when she wakes up and is very tired. Her blankets act as her fortress and she hides away from the sunlight, which is very bright. Krista defends herself from the cold air in her burrow. It is hard, but she holds her pee because it’s cold.
The rabbit invited me to a quiet tea party. Being that we were going to be neighbours, some pleasantries were in order. In his burrow everything was covered in a soft velvet cloth, tinted burgundy. His tea was sweet but not overly so. The winter was harsh on all of us, specially on his food supply. Yet he was extremely hospitable. With great mastery he made a cocktail of carrots and celery worthy of the most picky palates. A marvellous chap.
I burrow into my feelings and my deepest nightmares, layers upon layers of discarded information that built up over years like soil deposits. Reflection, real reflection, is an archaeological dig. You find yourself sectioning off the area into blocks and keeping track of what sites, what points in time in your life were the most active, which had something unique about them compared to the other years.
I feel old.
It hurts to see how much, how many parts of me, I’ve buried all this time.
What gravity is warping the space time within the confines of this coffeeshop? Four second eye contact twenty times in the past twenty seconds? Who, who is this bold stranger who fiercely and with such confidence burrows her beautiful bunny eyes into the field of my vision, she who digs her eyes into my eyes every chance I give her, every time I look as I look up from my oneword of which her adorable face will not let me write? I can’t resist; I can’t type; my fingers swell with extra blood. All my meditation — allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll my meditation — cannot cease the temptation, tempt, tempt, tempt, temptation!! O Zen Master, master, I’m failing! O Desires, how you can turn a desert into a real oasis at the instance of your indulgence. How you hang grapes before my mouth — you, you best believe Eve never stood a chance. I surrender to the force of the season! O how brutal Springtime can be when one chooses solitude. Seeing the birds chase the birds, the squirrels chase the squirrels — it hurts to watch them. Even the blossoms leave bruises! Shall I test her with with a word to see if she can sing as beautiful as she is? I will, right…now.
gopher is strange he used the paper towels to hide is cookie.Birds smell like birds so when they eat they don’t know how to look like elvis and catch catapillars
She couldn’t get deep enough under the covers, her pillow over her head. She tried to block out the light in hopes to block out the voices, repeating over and over again, telling her she wasn’t good enough, that she’d never be good enough. They were violently terrifying tonight and nothing she did could make them stop. Pillow after pillow, blanket after blanket, and she was still plagued by their vicious words. Words echoing the same things her partner had said only hours before. Had it only been hours? Had she really only been left alone for such a short time to fall so far? Alone again but never truly alone. Broken, bruised, damaged, but still unfortunately alive.
deep into the ground she went.
nose first.
tiny paws.
scuffling onward. forward.
her nose could smell it.
she could smell the badger.
i will get it.
i will get the badger.
said the dachshund.
Moles. Bunnies. Groundhogs. Foxes. They all do it. To Live. It’s good. Burrowing is good for them.
in her neck as pale as milk
let’s hide among those blazing curls
in warm hands as soft as silk
we’ll take shelter from our worlds
Seething, alone in the dark. Finally peace
A burrow is a place the bunnies sleep in. They’re found in the ground. I really love bunnies. I wish they made burrows big enough for people like me to go in and snuggle up to some bunnies. That would be really something. Who wouldn’t want to live with bunnies?
Burrows remind me of rabbits and how they burrow into the ground. I wish they wouldn’t stay in the ground. I like to see them, it’s so sad how they hide. They just need a friend.
Prestar algo, es prestar atencion, dar amor, apoyar, significa muchas cosas, aunque mas aunque significar muchas cosas, tiene diferentes sinonimos. Prestar es darle a alguien algo que necesita que es tuyo para poder ayudarlos.
Rabbits live in burrows, and Hobbits live in burrow-like homes. It’s interesting to think that many small creatures can live in these dark, damp places. Although, I’d imagine that they’d be very cool when it came to the raging summer heats of the Arizona deserts. Or maybe the Sahara desert.. I don’t know. Then again, I think it’d be really cool to live in a Hobbit burrow.
Burrow into the side of the cliff
Watch the procession of tides
Sigh with each
Sunrise and sunset
Bath in moonlight slivers
Pretend it doesn’t hurt, ignore the pain
Know your sorrow can be cured with time
The ache will always fade away
You’ll emerge from that cave someday
…I’ve said this many times, but sometimes that which takes root…
Well, it has a way of growing back, doesn’t it? You can clear away old vines and thorns, but sometimes they return even stronger, even thicker.
I would like to burrow like a mole. I would like to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. I would like to dig through the dirt like a worm, eating up the soil and bumping into rocks.
something that is a place for little furry creatures to live in they have big families and they are underground and there are paths and the animals are cute. they are a confusing maze of areas to live in
gophers do it, bugs do it, the zerg do it, widow mines do it, protoss pussies do no do it, rhymes with borrow, it means to go underground.
I want to burrow in someone’s heart and never come back out. I want to be apart of something that to be without would mean death. Can I have your heart as an escape?
I want to burrow someone’s life. Escape my own, set free and fly away. I want to kiss the horizon and reach the moon.
There was a family. The Weasley family, to be exact. They lived in a house, which they called”The Burrow”. It wasn’t the nicest of homes, no, but they loved it. There was Bill, Percy, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Arthur, and Molly.
the little rabbit that lived under the world
emerges as a tiger
always
the heart of its past
the brain of its present
:me
It was groundhogs day. Waiting for the arrival of spring was like waiting for your life to renew itself. Like nothing happened before and this is the time for me to leave the past behind. The groundhog crept out of its burrow and a grin made its way across my face.
Her gravity is warping space time. Four second eye contact twenty times in the past ten seconds? Who, who is this bold stranger who fiercely and with such confidence burrows her bunny eyes into the field of my vision, she who digs her eyes into my eyes every chance I give her, every time I look back after I look up from my oneword of which her adorable face will not let me write? I can’t resist; I can’t even type; my fingers swell with extra blood. All my meditation — allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll my meditation — cannot cease the temptation, temptation, tempt, tempt, tempt, temptation!! O Zen Master, master, I’m failing! O Desires, how you can turn a desert into a real oasis at the instance of your indulgence. I surrender to the force of the season! O how hard springtime is when one chooses solitude. Seeing the birds chase the birds, the squirrels chase the squirrels — it hurts to watch them. Even blossoms leave bruises! I should give her my oneword to see if she can sing as beautiful as she is. I will right…now.
burrow. I think he meant burro, well, all these gringos talk the same. I offeredhim to go to the nearest train station, see if he can catch a train over there, maybe because he’s american and all he can get a train, I have known no mexican who could, but you know, these guys do miracles.
I am finally making my way out of the burrow I have dug myself into. These last few months, I have been deep here in the dark, suffocating. I am reaching out, and pulling myself into the sunshine once more. I can breathe.
It was small, like the tiniest of caves or an animals burrow. But still, it was dry and reasonably warm which, considering the circumstances, was a far sight better than anything else we could find.
The inside was cramped, forcing us to live practically on top of one another, but that was nothing new, not really. At least there was room for us both to lay down, with the added bonus of a small fire to keep the wintry chill at bay.
Her gravity is warping space time. Four second eye contact twenty times in the past ten seconds? Who, who is this bold stranger who fiercely and with such confidence burrows her bunny eyes into the field of my vision, she who digs her eyes into my eyes every chance I give her, every time I look back after I look up from my oneword of which her adorable face will not let me write? I can’t resist; I can’t even type, my fingers swell with extra blood. All my meditation cannot cease the temptation! O Zen Master, I’m failing! O Desires, how you can turn a desert into a real oasis at the instance of your indulgence. I surrender to the force of the season! O how hard springtime is when one chooses solitude. Seeing the birds chase the birds, the squirrels chase the squirrels — it hurts to watch them. even blossoms leave bruises! I should give her my oneword to see if she can sing as beautiful as she is. I will right…now.
I burrow my head deep into the sheets and pillows. The smell of Tide and bleach engulfed my body. I fell into a deep, deep, sleep for the next few hours. I woke up with dried tears and a very worried look on my face. I that a lot of things weren’t gonna be okay. I had to make them okay myself, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to.
I just want to burrow under the blankets and ward off the flying colours, the sharp polygons stabbing through the air, searching for my flesh, oh my darling, don’t let me sink tonight; oh my darling, don’t let me go.
I want to make a burrow and then lay there not interacting with anyone. I want to die, and I want them to forget every horrible thing I have ever done. I want to stare into an empty space without a sick thought coming to my mind of how filthy my existence is.
My cat burrowed his head into the crook of my elbow looking for as much snuggling as he could get. He’s too cute to resist!
A spring bunny came out today for us
A day full of hazy laughs
You know how it goes on April 20th
What a day
Wish I could burrow into some blankets with you
(after we play some mario kart)
Looking forward to the future
the fox was looking for a place to rest among the vast white covering the ground of the forrest