I hang from the ceiling like that guy from Joy Division. The ceiling looks nice from up here. I imagine walking on it. The whole world upside down. I reach for a ceiling light, bump my head on the floor.
“My mind’s divided. Should I go with the blue shirt or the green shirt?” Maya asked Jane.
“Blue. Definitely blue,” Jane replied. “It brings out your eyes.”
Maya threw the green shirt on the bed and undressed in front of Jane. She’d become used to it, though she still didn’t like to change clothes in front of Maya.
There was a certain division within the group that could be very disconcerting at times. It wasn’t always evident, but when it was you could cut the atmosphere with a knife! I always had the idea that it was related to something that had happened years before, but I never quite knew.
I hate division mathematically or otherwise. Division means parting and that means sweet sorrows or perhaps it means freedom. Why do we have to divide? United we stand, remember?
Division of the troops began. It was divided according to skill, size, anything they could think of. They all felt bad for the idiots in the first rows would die first. The others in the troops pitied them, but then… then what could they say? If they said anything, the division would begin again, trying to accomodate everyone, and the complainers would be mysteriously placed in the first rows.
Division
The joy division.
The feeling of running til you can hear the throbbing of your heartbeat through your ears. For just a moment, one few glorious moments, you feel like you are flying, as the cool wind blasts your face and filters through your hair. There’s nothing stopping you, and there’s no reason to stop. For you are just living within the moment, just enjoying the next stride, and the next, and the next. Running away from the past and welcoming the future.
That’s the joy division.
Division is caused by the belief that someone”s interest is not being looked after, and that action on their part is necessary to restore confidence in whatever stance that they have taken on matter.
Division. the sum of all parts seperated. Love divided. Time divided. 1 divided by many over and over. Life is division, when you put it like that.. But it was also that annoying subject in school. Maths.
The office was full of blue – coppers that is – what gives guvner says I to the boss as he sat sweating at this desk – just rolled his eyes poor old sod – couldnt help looking a the wife’s photo though – blond and lovely – just how i like em – plenty of time when the old boy was doing porridge
Sharing or separating:- so very different. If only it were easier for us all to share and more difficult for us to separate ourselves from our common humanity
a split that broke through our group
we thought we were bonded so closely
yet it was just a small simple thing that made us enemies
blood may split us
but can love renew us
The word division brings up a sad or somewhat angry feeling with in me. Division always means separate. Like things that should be together are kept apart and it is a shame how much division this world has seen. If we could only bring everyone together, what a happier world we would live in.
Divisions are nasty, very horrible. I once knew a man who had to do long multiplication, followed by long division, all while sitting on top of the Berlin Wall. Talk about a nasty case of division.
The air was tense with words unsaid. She moved away from him, her jaw clenched and her eyes tight. He sighed, closing his eyes. When had it gotten to this point? He missed her laughter, her smiles – her in general. Now they were divided and he was much too far to cross the bridge anytime soon.
they seperated us when we were kids. i never even got to know my twin sister. now i do because she’s all over the media. shes an activist, and i can’t stand her.
long division, you and i. a slanted line, two dots. i never really got the hang of it in grade school, and i don’t know any more now then I did back then. You walk away from me with the ease that only someone with practice could master. and here I am, still unsure about what’s being taken away from what. ]
long division, you and i. a slanted line, two dots. i never really got the hang of it in grade school, and i don’t know any more now then I did back then. You walk away from me with the ease that only someone with practice could master. and here I am, still unsure about what’s being taken away from what.
A Gemini sun, a planet beneath their division. She prays to hers, I to mine, and in the sunset shadows lengthening along the quay, we hold each other and creep back into our cave as Dante’s moon eclipses both in a blood-red moment. The long night until twin dawns begins again.
Sometimes I can see her from across the division which labels me unfit for her company. I’m an outcast and she’s a queen. But sometimes I wish she’d look at me anyway, just to have a moment in which I can believe I’m something more.
It can be, as some of my friends put it, segregation. A division of people, church, politics, anything. There were the schisms of the churches that you learn about when you study World History before the 16th Century, as well.
We’ve divided ourselves in a nation where this instance cannot be tolerated. We tolerate what we are told to by a government that has divided against itself. Are we really to only follow the last transgression?
My eyes slowly opened that morning, not wanting to loose the sweet surrender of sleep. I rolled out of bed, staring out the plate-glass that covered the hotel room wall. A spectacular view of Italy lay below my feet, almost as if it were a painting in a museum. If I walked close enough, I could see my reflection in the window, the sun glaring off the rooftops and showing myself what I truly looked like. Petite in stature, my light brown locks almost looked a deep shade of blonde in the light. My blue eyes flickered about the view below before becoming fixated on the reflection that I saw as myself. I sighed, leaning my head against the glass with a light thud. If I was so cute, as I had heard my whole life, why could I never keep him close to me…?
The divide that tore them apart. It was summer; they were in love. They spent days together, refusing to separate their bodies. That is, until their bodies were separated for them. An earthquake hit. The grounds shook, and they grabbed for each other’s hands, and the road tore in half between them. It pulled them apart, and while they hung on as long as they could, their fingers were pried apart by the shaking Earth beneath them.
Division is mathematical, and social. There is division in all things and a removal of that division if we are willing to work towards that. Division isn’t always a bad thing, but we treat it that way.
Long division. As a child it was a big milestone to learn long division. I felt like I had finally arrived to learn something “adult.” Wouldn’t it be great to again have that sense of satisfaction and arrival to a new level.
Joy Division. Not a band I’m familiar with, but they had that one song, don’t they. Love Will Tear Us Apart. That’s a sad song. Why are they sad? Why would one think Love will tear you apart? Actually, that’s not such a far-fetched idea, is it?
when i stood there looking at my heart wrapped in my hand, only than did i realize the difference between the human raise and the only thing that saperates us from the other – our serenity
I always liked long division. Breaking the numbers down was fun to me, like breaking a code or something. I was a spy cracking encrypted messages as I figured out that if I carried the 4 and moved the decimal, I would get the answer.
“I will divide you two, for you will never see each other again.” She said with a sneer. I held tightly to my mothers hand, for this would be the last time she held me close. Then they came, the two men, tearing me apart from her and dragging her away. She was screaming my name and I watched in shock, not knowing what to do. The woman laughed. Tears started to well in my eyes. Was this women finding my mothers torture amusing? For stealing a loaf of bread would result in this. Food was always scarce. And I was starving. My mother wanted to save me so she stole. And now she was being tortured, probably dead by the time I got back to my box of a home.
“Stop it! Please!” I begged. The women grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into a dark, empty room. She threw me in and snickered. And that was the end of it. My mother and I were divided.
parting like a wave, they opened up for the famous one to stride through their ranks (what, tapping a shoe, tapping a head, tapping a badge?). yet no famous one came, only the boy subcommander who walked through and as if he would, tapping his feet and reaching up to tap their helmets, their badges.
he’s over there, there, so far away.
“this is my side,” he says, “and that is yours. stay on yours if you want to live.”
i want to live, by god, so i stay.
but it’s so hard, when he’s why i want to live.
The division of labor in the office appears to be working. At a glance, we all look terribly busy, most days. Other days, if one really takes a gander, it becomes evident that it is all a well crafted act to make the higher ups believe that we are actively engaging in our jobs. Suckers!
I hang from the ceiling like that guy from Joy Division. The ceiling looks nice from up here. I imagine walking on it. The whole world upside down. I reach for a ceiling light, bump my head on the floor.
By Janey Smith URL on 09.05.2011
“My mind’s divided. Should I go with the blue shirt or the green shirt?” Maya asked Jane.
“Blue. Definitely blue,” Jane replied. “It brings out your eyes.”
Maya threw the green shirt on the bed and undressed in front of Jane. She’d become used to it, though she still didn’t like to change clothes in front of Maya.
By Candace S. URL on 09.05.2011
There was a certain division within the group that could be very disconcerting at times. It wasn’t always evident, but when it was you could cut the atmosphere with a knife! I always had the idea that it was related to something that had happened years before, but I never quite knew.
By Bonnie Cehovet URL on 09.05.2011
I hate division mathematically or otherwise. Division means parting and that means sweet sorrows or perhaps it means freedom. Why do we have to divide? United we stand, remember?
By spartica URL on 09.05.2011
Division of the troops began. It was divided according to skill, size, anything they could think of. They all felt bad for the idiots in the first rows would die first. The others in the troops pitied them, but then… then what could they say? If they said anything, the division would begin again, trying to accomodate everyone, and the complainers would be mysteriously placed in the first rows.
By Maria URL on 09.05.2011
She took almost all the money and all that’s left is division. Do the math.
By vanhaydu URL on 09.05.2011
Division
The joy division.
The feeling of running til you can hear the throbbing of your heartbeat through your ears. For just a moment, one few glorious moments, you feel like you are flying, as the cool wind blasts your face and filters through your hair. There’s nothing stopping you, and there’s no reason to stop. For you are just living within the moment, just enjoying the next stride, and the next, and the next. Running away from the past and welcoming the future.
That’s the joy division.
By sarahsarahsarah on 09.05.2011
Division is caused by the belief that someone”s interest is not being looked after, and that action on their part is necessary to restore confidence in whatever stance that they have taken on matter.
By victor walkes URL on 09.05.2011
Division. the sum of all parts seperated. Love divided. Time divided. 1 divided by many over and over. Life is division, when you put it like that.. But it was also that annoying subject in school. Maths.
By Karen on 09.05.2011
Divison, diving the result of one thing and the origin of another.
By Katrina on 09.05.2011
The office was full of blue – coppers that is – what gives guvner says I to the boss as he sat sweating at this desk – just rolled his eyes poor old sod – couldnt help looking a the wife’s photo though – blond and lovely – just how i like em – plenty of time when the old boy was doing porridge
By scotchwhiskers URL on 09.05.2011
Sharing or separating:- so very different. If only it were easier for us all to share and more difficult for us to separate ourselves from our common humanity
By H URL on 09.05.2011
a split that broke through our group
we thought we were bonded so closely
yet it was just a small simple thing that made us enemies
blood may split us
but can love renew us
By Corinne on 09.05.2011
The word division brings up a sad or somewhat angry feeling with in me. Division always means separate. Like things that should be together are kept apart and it is a shame how much division this world has seen. If we could only bring everyone together, what a happier world we would live in.
By Renee URL on 09.05.2011
Divisions are nasty, very horrible. I once knew a man who had to do long multiplication, followed by long division, all while sitting on top of the Berlin Wall. Talk about a nasty case of division.
By E.P. Hantera on 09.05.2011
division multiple
man
user
seizure
calculator
sadfv
me
you
the others
nevermind
about the others
so
what
do you think
about division?
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
division
never
ever
ever
ever
By haha on 09.05.2011
division signs kind of look like yin yangs.
There is a plethora of I’s in the word.
By Celeste URL on 09.05.2011
The air was tense with words unsaid. She moved away from him, her jaw clenched and her eyes tight. He sighed, closing his eyes. When had it gotten to this point? He missed her laughter, her smiles – her in general. Now they were divided and he was much too far to cross the bridge anytime soon.
By Lee URL on 09.05.2011
yet,the division Kent caused in her could never be completely healed.
By The Fake Dann URL on 09.05.2011
they seperated us when we were kids. i never even got to know my twin sister. now i do because she’s all over the media. shes an activist, and i can’t stand her.
By brittany URL on 09.05.2011
long division, you and i. a slanted line, two dots. i never really got the hang of it in grade school, and i don’t know any more now then I did back then. You walk away from me with the ease that only someone with practice could master. and here I am, still unsure about what’s being taken away from what. ]
By BridgetD96 URL on 09.05.2011
long division, you and i. a slanted line, two dots. i never really got the hang of it in grade school, and i don’t know any more now then I did back then. You walk away from me with the ease that only someone with practice could master. and here I am, still unsure about what’s being taken away from what.
By BridgetD96 URL on 09.05.2011
A Gemini sun, a planet beneath their division. She prays to hers, I to mine, and in the sunset shadows lengthening along the quay, we hold each other and creep back into our cave as Dante’s moon eclipses both in a blood-red moment. The long night until twin dawns begins again.
By RS Bohn URL on 09.05.2011
Sometimes I can see her from across the division which labels me unfit for her company. I’m an outcast and she’s a queen. But sometimes I wish she’d look at me anyway, just to have a moment in which I can believe I’m something more.
By Krissy on 09.05.2011
It can be, as some of my friends put it, segregation. A division of people, church, politics, anything. There were the schisms of the churches that you learn about when you study World History before the 16th Century, as well.
By Rainbow URL on 09.05.2011
We’ve divided ourselves in a nation where this instance cannot be tolerated. We tolerate what we are told to by a government that has divided against itself. Are we really to only follow the last transgression?
By Lorraina Flowers on 09.05.2011
My eyes slowly opened that morning, not wanting to loose the sweet surrender of sleep. I rolled out of bed, staring out the plate-glass that covered the hotel room wall. A spectacular view of Italy lay below my feet, almost as if it were a painting in a museum. If I walked close enough, I could see my reflection in the window, the sun glaring off the rooftops and showing myself what I truly looked like. Petite in stature, my light brown locks almost looked a deep shade of blonde in the light. My blue eyes flickered about the view below before becoming fixated on the reflection that I saw as myself. I sighed, leaning my head against the glass with a light thud. If I was so cute, as I had heard my whole life, why could I never keep him close to me…?
By Ashbiis URL on 09.05.2011
The divide that tore them apart. It was summer; they were in love. They spent days together, refusing to separate their bodies. That is, until their bodies were separated for them. An earthquake hit. The grounds shook, and they grabbed for each other’s hands, and the road tore in half between them. It pulled them apart, and while they hung on as long as they could, their fingers were pried apart by the shaking Earth beneath them.
By Kaylyn URL on 09.05.2011
Division is mathematical, and social. There is division in all things and a removal of that division if we are willing to work towards that. Division isn’t always a bad thing, but we treat it that way.
By Billy URL on 09.05.2011
I watched two ants
one black one red
squabble over a yellow leaf
each with mandibles clamped
hair breathe legs dug in the dirt
above them
a grey cloud whitened
keeping the water for itself
By gsk URL on 09.05.2011
Long division. As a child it was a big milestone to learn long division. I felt like I had finally arrived to learn something “adult.” Wouldn’t it be great to again have that sense of satisfaction and arrival to a new level.
By elizabeth b URL on 09.05.2011
a place constituting to ones belonging and individualism, seperating the rest from the world as seen from a birds eye view.
By sangeet on 09.05.2011
Joy Division. Not a band I’m familiar with, but they had that one song, don’t they. Love Will Tear Us Apart. That’s a sad song. Why are they sad? Why would one think Love will tear you apart? Actually, that’s not such a far-fetched idea, is it?
By Fiz on 09.05.2011
when i stood there looking at my heart wrapped in my hand, only than did i realize the difference between the human raise and the only thing that saperates us from the other – our serenity
By sangeet on 09.05.2011
I always liked long division. Breaking the numbers down was fun to me, like breaking a code or something. I was a spy cracking encrypted messages as I figured out that if I carried the 4 and moved the decimal, I would get the answer.
By Tanya B. URL on 09.05.2011
“I will divide you two, for you will never see each other again.” She said with a sneer. I held tightly to my mothers hand, for this would be the last time she held me close. Then they came, the two men, tearing me apart from her and dragging her away. She was screaming my name and I watched in shock, not knowing what to do. The woman laughed. Tears started to well in my eyes. Was this women finding my mothers torture amusing? For stealing a loaf of bread would result in this. Food was always scarce. And I was starving. My mother wanted to save me so she stole. And now she was being tortured, probably dead by the time I got back to my box of a home.
“Stop it! Please!” I begged. The women grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into a dark, empty room. She threw me in and snickered. And that was the end of it. My mother and I were divided.
By emma URL on 09.05.2011
parting like a wave, they opened up for the famous one to stride through their ranks (what, tapping a shoe, tapping a head, tapping a badge?). yet no famous one came, only the boy subcommander who walked through and as if he would, tapping his feet and reaching up to tap their helmets, their badges.
By Jessica URL on 09.05.2011
he’s over there, there, so far away.
“this is my side,” he says, “and that is yours. stay on yours if you want to live.”
i want to live, by god, so i stay.
but it’s so hard, when he’s why i want to live.
By peri c on 09.05.2011
The art of splitting. I was in a division of it where we were underfunded and had an asshole for a boss.
By Joe URL on 09.05.2011
The division of labor in the office appears to be working. At a glance, we all look terribly busy, most days. Other days, if one really takes a gander, it becomes evident that it is all a well crafted act to make the higher ups believe that we are actively engaging in our jobs. Suckers!
By Fender2010 URL on 09.05.2011