runs deep within the darkness of that space within the cushions of a couch. The nothingness that fills the void between the crevice on the way down really shows a substantial amount of fear for the little area that it really occupies. Coins, wallets, cellphones, all fall and fear of loss is the first emotion felt when one realizes what has just occurred. Maybe a reach down into the couch along the smooth design of the wondrous soft seat. If it is recovered then the the job has been done and all that is expected of the simple.
The fabris of our lives, woven together, is breaking at the seams. I kiss your mouth, and follow downwards, fixing it with my tongue. It won’t last, but temporary measures are all I have
Fabric is many things. Many boring things. The interesting fabric, that’s the kind that you can’t see. The opposite of fashion, I guess. The kind of fabric I’m interested in, it’s the stuff that connects everyone. The fabric of the universe, if you will. The reason why we have hope.
is soft sweet supple and everything imaginable. my teddy bear sat against the pillow, looking forlorn. i breathed in his sweet old smell, the smell of fabric, and hugs, and tears and sweat. I nuzzled him to my neck. “It’s okay.” i said. “I still love you…” He knew it. but i had so many other things these days…
It’s hard, it seems evil. It is the everyday life. It produces everything I see. I love my chokolate. I hate the ones who made it. I am alojne among many. Grey, empty. Who is better? I place my name at the bottom of the product. Help. The world. Closer. Far away. Made in China.
I will always remember the most incredible fabric shop in downtown Syracuse. It was owned and operated by an little old tailor, Bolts of amazing textiles where stacked up to the ceiling–every hue and texture imaginable. If you were looking for something speci
the rip destroyed any hope of the dress being finished in time. It was a jagged tear, in the middle of the skirt. The blemish could not be covered up, say, by a bow or a piece of lace, without drawing even more attention to it. Cinderella stood suddenly and threw the garment into the fireplace,
What the hell the word was fabric yesterday. This sucks I wanted a new cool word to keep me entertained today in English class. Boooooo, angry eyes. Well this sucks, yeah that’s about it.
fabric
soft, yielding, covering
cutting, pliable
soft coldness on summer days, wrapping around me muffling sounds hiding under turning it into a cocoon. Maybe I’ll come out different from when I began. Hiding, not hearing, escaping wrapped under it avoiding filtered sun.
Ooh fabric. I have fabric on my walls that you wont ever see again…I think I’ll turn the fabric into pillows. I like fabric. If I could make dresses with fabric I would. I have made a Halloween costume or two in my time. And this is by far my worst entry. I don’t like fabric anymore.
the fabric of our lives, what keeps us together, that’s what they call it, right? the simple threads holding us beside each other…i don’t know what happened to the pieces. why are we suddenly unraveling into separate pieces.
bring the needle and the thread and sew us back together again. keep us together.
soft, fabric, that your dry, cracking fingers catch on. Dirt-dried hands tightening my tie, buttoning my shirt, flipping my collar over to complete the effort — my hands rough, catch my the loops in the fabric of my tie, pulling them out
Weave your fabric to your own style. Be who you want to be. Have no regrets. Live life to the fullest. Wear your emotions on your sleeve. Tell the people you love, that you love them. Never judge a book by its cover. This world is so full of evil things. It is your clay, mold it to what you want it to be, you are a tailor, an artist, a work of art. Peace Be With You.
runs deep within the darkness of that space within the cushions of a couch. The nothingness that fills the void between the crevice on the way down really shows a substantial amount of fear for the little area that it really occupies. Coins, wallets, cellphones, all fall and fear of loss is the first emotion felt when one realizes what has just occurred. Maybe a reach down into the couch along the smooth design of the wondrous soft seat. If it is recovered then the the job has been done and all that is expected of the simple.
By Jim on 05.21.2008
The fabris of our lives, woven together, is breaking at the seams. I kiss your mouth, and follow downwards, fixing it with my tongue. It won’t last, but temporary measures are all I have
By Freddo on 05.21.2008
the fabric of our lives. It’s woven in the past but not the future. Gone are the days of beuatiful linens. Shop in China. Cheap and plentiful.
Fabric is for your Mom. Have her sew it into your garment and make it new.
Fab
By mike glenn on 05.21.2008
Fabric is many things. Many boring things. The interesting fabric, that’s the kind that you can’t see. The opposite of fashion, I guess. The kind of fabric I’m interested in, it’s the stuff that connects everyone. The fabric of the universe, if you will. The reason why we have hope.
By JEK on 05.21.2008
itchy. smooth. cold. ribbed. dank. wind-lifted.
By Katherine on 05.21.2008
is soft sweet supple and everything imaginable. my teddy bear sat against the pillow, looking forlorn. i breathed in his sweet old smell, the smell of fabric, and hugs, and tears and sweat. I nuzzled him to my neck. “It’s okay.” i said. “I still love you…” He knew it. but i had so many other things these days…
By ashlynne on 05.21.2008
It’s hard, it seems evil. It is the everyday life. It produces everything I see. I love my chokolate. I hate the ones who made it. I am alojne among many. Grey, empty. Who is better? I place my name at the bottom of the product. Help. The world. Closer. Far away. Made in China.
By Jenny Rossander on 05.21.2008
I will always remember the most incredible fabric shop in downtown Syracuse. It was owned and operated by an little old tailor, Bolts of amazing textiles where stacked up to the ceiling–every hue and texture imaginable. If you were looking for something speci
By Andrea on 05.21.2008
the rip destroyed any hope of the dress being finished in time. It was a jagged tear, in the middle of the skirt. The blemish could not be covered up, say, by a bow or a piece of lace, without drawing even more attention to it. Cinderella stood suddenly and threw the garment into the fireplace,
By yo on 05.21.2008
What the hell the word was fabric yesterday. This sucks I wanted a new cool word to keep me entertained today in English class. Boooooo, angry eyes. Well this sucks, yeah that’s about it.
By Andrew D on 05.21.2008
Colorful, soft, clothing material. Or a word used to denote the ties that bind — as in ‘the fabric of our life’.
By MJ on 05.21.2008
fabric
soft, yielding, covering
cutting, pliable
soft coldness on summer days, wrapping around me muffling sounds hiding under turning it into a cocoon. Maybe I’ll come out different from when I began. Hiding, not hearing, escaping wrapped under it avoiding filtered sun.
By Nom De Plum on 05.21.2008
My mom keeps telling me she wants to cover her walls in burlap. And all I can think is “but burlap is so ITCHY.”
I’m not sure why I am so concerned with whether her walls will be itchy or not. I can’t remember the last time I rubbed up against a wall.
Wait. Yes I can. But that was a highschool dance. So it’s different.
By Miss Britt on 05.21.2008
the fabric is soft, flowing about me like a currant in the ocean. I feel it wind around me, smothering me. Simple yet complete.
By Erin on 05.21.2008
Ooh fabric. I have fabric on my walls that you wont ever see again…I think I’ll turn the fabric into pillows. I like fabric. If I could make dresses with fabric I would. I have made a Halloween costume or two in my time. And this is by far my worst entry. I don’t like fabric anymore.
By mar on 05.21.2008
the fabric of our lives, what keeps us together, that’s what they call it, right? the simple threads holding us beside each other…i don’t know what happened to the pieces. why are we suddenly unraveling into separate pieces.
bring the needle and the thread and sew us back together again. keep us together.
please don’t tear us apart.
By jessica on 05.21.2008
soft, fabric, that your dry, cracking fingers catch on. Dirt-dried hands tightening my tie, buttoning my shirt, flipping my collar over to complete the effort — my hands rough, catch my the loops in the fabric of my tie, pulling them out
By Alex Crittenden on 05.21.2008
Weave your fabric to your own style. Be who you want to be. Have no regrets. Live life to the fullest. Wear your emotions on your sleeve. Tell the people you love, that you love them. Never judge a book by its cover. This world is so full of evil things. It is your clay, mold it to what you want it to be, you are a tailor, an artist, a work of art. Peace Be With You.
By Heather Who? on 05.21.2008