You weren’t the most subtle…I’ll tell you that much. I was always giving all to you…always lending, always wasting myself away…out of some foolish wish that I’d one day receive something in return…Is it too much to ask that you give some of that back? Was it? Will it be? We’ll have to see…for now, I’m all but empty. Because I lent to you.
I’ve already DONE this…is there a quota of posts per day? Or maybe, just maybe there is something more to write…something less dark, less hopeless…Sure, I’d lent nearly everything inside me, but I was able to grow as a result…to become empty, and then transform into something new. Surely, lending my all was hardly a bad thing, was it?
I wonder, really, if what I’ve become is truly a result of making myself empty…for you, that is. I did it all for you, once upon a time. Sometimes I wish I had kept some of that feeling inside…maybe, just maybe, I’d still love you. Maybe I’d still love you if I hadn’t given it all away.
But I’m certain its for the better. As much as I miss being in love, I’m in a far better position to understand what it truly means. I’ve got the weight of the world, wide and wondrous, on my side. In a way, I learned everything from you. For that, I swear I will be grateful until the end of time.
You’ve never reached out your hand to me, I’ve always been the one to grab it as it swings lifelessly by your side. While you breathe in air, I’d breathe out disappointment. It doesn’t take much for thin hair to snap, for bridges to break, and for whispers to turn into echoes. It doesn’t take much at all.
lending library, sunburnt pages, wrinkling edges, yellow crisp and buzzing orange lights above, a large window amidst the shelves where I see someone from my neighborhood I know coming by to bring back a book.
The first thing I thought of was LendingTree.com. How is that for consumerism? I guess now I’m thinking of The Merchant of Venice for obvious reasons. I don’t mean that in a racist way. Now I’m thinking of people lending their opinions.
I was lending a hand to my neighbor. He decided it was time. He was moving his house. I was wondering while you were laying in the tub. how far you would move to. Africa. Zimbabwe or France.
I don’t particularly like lending I never get back the books or dvds that I have lent out So lending has become a source of giving for me and I try to lend 10% of my income to those who don;t know the difference My computer does not allow periods can someone lend me some punctuation I’ll give it write (sp) back
lending is like when someone b0rrows money from a bank or friend with the intent of paying them back whether it be with interest or without. like borrowing things from others with the intent of returning them.
I was lending a hand to a little boy who wanted to reach a box of Wheat Thins on a very tall shelf in the local grocery store when I saw Harry limping down the aisle. He looked much more leathery than before, as if the sun had taken his face out to a barbecue and marinated it was thick, sweet sauce. His pupils noticeably dilated even from a distance, but he seemed to recognize me.
“Well,” he said with a wispy laugh. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
Lending. When I think lending, I think lending a helping hand. (Or a toy.) Mostly I think volunteering though. You are lending your kindness to someone or something else and that means a lot.
Lending time is all about the passing
of space to space
finding its hard earned time just falling
through time
through space
through passing glances
and failed romances
each falling due to its lent material
materials lending themselves to a new sense of space and time
waiting for one to fall through
so she can say,
“I lent that to you.”
She would lend them anything: pens, paper, white-out, her stapler. She never expected to get them back, but that brief moment where their fingers touched hers made it all worthwhile.
When David was lending Julie a hand last Saturday, he slipped and fell for her. It took him about one month to finally get a kiss. He loved kissing her beautiful lips.
I don’t like lending my books to people. They always come back a little worse for the wear, with bent pages, highlighting, and other signs of use. I never mark in my books, so this sort of thing tends to irritate me.
At first I was just lending her my jacket. I didn’t need it, but she was cold. Plus she looked adorable in it. Now, however, if I get it back then I will be completely heartbroken. It is now my gift to her. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see her again, and I’m hoping that as long as she has that jacket, she’ll remember how much I love her.
here you are
lending an ear to my troubles
a sounding board for my frustrated heart
here I sit
abusing that which I love
for the sake of my fragile sanity
I’m lending you a piece of me. This you shall keep to remember me always, but I expect it back. Not because I’ll feel like you’ve stolen what is mine but because when I see what I gave up, you’ll be right there. You’ll be holding it, telling me that you took care of one of my million puzzle pieces. Every time that you leave, I will give you a piece of me to follow you.
Lending money to people is risky business. If they decide that they don’t need to pay you back before the deadline, you might have to break a few kneecaps. Most people hire some muscle to take care of that stuff. Not Jimmy “The Bones” Malone. He lives his life by that age-old axiom: If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.
It’s taken you years to realize just what she has been unconditionally lending you: kindness, hope, maybe even love. Lending, but not quite giving. You just wish you had realized that she could take everything back before she actually did.
Let me have it.
No.
Just give it to me.
It’s mine.
But you’re mine.
Progressive thinker, aren’t you?
You know what I mean.
Do I?
Please. Let me.
What if you don’t give it back?
I’ll give it back.
How do I know?
Trust me.
…
Please.
So she splays her fingers and he laces his with hers and lending a hand has never seemed so wonderfully satisfying.
Lending hands and friends and I lent you all my books when we were seventeen and we built a fort out of your books and we hid ourselves in stories and lyrics and songs passed along on the backs of envelopes god knows we write our letters slow and send them even slower with more quotations than any real substance.
Lending a shoe, lending a cup of sugar, lending at the bank. I am tired of thinking about finances, this class stresses me out. My paper is stressing me out, I should not have waited this long to begin working on it. I do not understand the point and I do not have any idea of what to write. ERRG What am I going to or supposed to write about
That frozen moment in time, when all agreed what was lent would return. If only were so easy to lend, therefore I never find myself lending. Experience has taught me to be extra picky.
Lending. So many mixed thoughts. It can be a gift, an act of love or of service to someone you care about. But it can also backfire. People may not pay you back or give you back your things. So there’s a matter of risk to it. It can be a beautiful act of service or a huge mistake. So be careful.
Giving. Hoping to get back. Could be selfless. Often with fear behind the action… Dread that the receiver will damage your possession, but none the less… you lend.
“I’m lending you this against my better judgment you realize? The last time I lent anything to you I never saw it again.”
“I promise I will return it to you, scouts honor!”
I lent you everything. My home. My car. My house. My family. But most importantly, I lent you my heart. Time and time again. But your own darkness, your own pain, your own insecurity, prevented you from ever seeing how much I cared. Who are you anymore?
This is all I am lending to you, a moment in my life, a fraction of the continuum I will call my memory. For this moment, you can touch me, you can hold me, you can have everything that I am and was and ever will be. If there is one thing you can be sure of, its that for this second, I am nothing without you. And that tomorrow, I will be gone.
The librarian lent me a book on how to maek friends with a table. Obviously it did not teach me how to spell, especially since it did have a chapter on lieking mudkips and making friends with them. But I thing I just want to be friends with my Companion Cube because he is very cute and will never threaten to stab me. He is my friend and I don’t want to kill him.
a hand. an arm, a leg. you can lend your whole being in any and every way… but be careful. don’t make the mistake I did, don’t let anyone take advantage of you. You are worth more than that.
how do you conjugate this word in the past tense? lent? lended? i’m not entirely sure. it’s a strange word. sounds like a weak verb, though, not strong.
I once lent my friend a precious ring generations old, unfortunatly this proved to be the most fool hardy thing i would ever do. I proved to be great at finding things in my journeys of attempting to recover the tthing. This how i got my current job.
You weren’t the most subtle…I’ll tell you that much. I was always giving all to you…always lending, always wasting myself away…out of some foolish wish that I’d one day receive something in return…Is it too much to ask that you give some of that back? Was it? Will it be? We’ll have to see…for now, I’m all but empty. Because I lent to you.
By someone on 05.12.2012
I’ve already DONE this…is there a quota of posts per day? Or maybe, just maybe there is something more to write…something less dark, less hopeless…Sure, I’d lent nearly everything inside me, but I was able to grow as a result…to become empty, and then transform into something new. Surely, lending my all was hardly a bad thing, was it?
By someone on 05.12.2012
I wonder, really, if what I’ve become is truly a result of making myself empty…for you, that is. I did it all for you, once upon a time. Sometimes I wish I had kept some of that feeling inside…maybe, just maybe, I’d still love you. Maybe I’d still love you if I hadn’t given it all away.
But I’m certain its for the better. As much as I miss being in love, I’m in a far better position to understand what it truly means. I’ve got the weight of the world, wide and wondrous, on my side. In a way, I learned everything from you. For that, I swear I will be grateful until the end of time.
By someone on 05.12.2012
You’ve never reached out your hand to me, I’ve always been the one to grab it as it swings lifelessly by your side. While you breathe in air, I’d breathe out disappointment. It doesn’t take much for thin hair to snap, for bridges to break, and for whispers to turn into echoes. It doesn’t take much at all.
By みか★ちゃん URL on 05.12.2012
lending library, sunburnt pages, wrinkling edges, yellow crisp and buzzing orange lights above, a large window amidst the shelves where I see someone from my neighborhood I know coming by to bring back a book.
By Fred Fingery URL on 05.12.2012
The first thing I thought of was LendingTree.com. How is that for consumerism? I guess now I’m thinking of The Merchant of Venice for obvious reasons. I don’t mean that in a racist way. Now I’m thinking of people lending their opinions.
By deadponies URL on 05.12.2012
I was lending a hand to my neighbor. He decided it was time. He was moving his house. I was wondering while you were laying in the tub. how far you would move to. Africa. Zimbabwe or France.
By Jordin Warren URL on 05.12.2012
lending a rescue was what god had to do to save me
never can i show god how appreciative i am
By kidd on 05.12.2012
I don’t particularly like lending I never get back the books or dvds that I have lent out So lending has become a source of giving for me and I try to lend 10% of my income to those who don;t know the difference My computer does not allow periods can someone lend me some punctuation I’ll give it write (sp) back
By Jeff on 05.12.2012
lending is like when someone b0rrows money from a bank or friend with the intent of paying them back whether it be with interest or without. like borrowing things from others with the intent of returning them.
By Rebecca on 05.12.2012
to give to someone to use for a period of time
and then you have to give back to the person who landed it to you
By veronika levi on 05.12.2012
I was lending a hand to a little boy who wanted to reach a box of Wheat Thins on a very tall shelf in the local grocery store when I saw Harry limping down the aisle. He looked much more leathery than before, as if the sun had taken his face out to a barbecue and marinated it was thick, sweet sauce. His pupils noticeably dilated even from a distance, but he seemed to recognize me.
“Well,” he said with a wispy laugh. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
By Belinda Roddie URL on 05.12.2012
Lending. When I think lending, I think lending a helping hand. (Or a toy.) Mostly I think volunteering though. You are lending your kindness to someone or something else and that means a lot.
By Ballerina Ninja URL on 05.12.2012
Lending time is all about the passing
of space to space
finding its hard earned time just falling
through time
through space
through passing glances
and failed romances
each falling due to its lent material
materials lending themselves to a new sense of space and time
waiting for one to fall through
so she can say,
“I lent that to you.”
By t44 URL on 05.12.2012
She would lend them anything: pens, paper, white-out, her stapler. She never expected to get them back, but that brief moment where their fingers touched hers made it all worthwhile.
By Ryan Quinn URL on 05.12.2012
When David was lending Julie a hand last Saturday, he slipped and fell for her. It took him about one month to finally get a kiss. He loved kissing her beautiful lips.
By vanhaydu URL on 05.12.2012
I don’t like lending my books to people. They always come back a little worse for the wear, with bent pages, highlighting, and other signs of use. I never mark in my books, so this sort of thing tends to irritate me.
By SWellsBennett URL on 05.12.2012
At first I was just lending her my jacket. I didn’t need it, but she was cold. Plus she looked adorable in it. Now, however, if I get it back then I will be completely heartbroken. It is now my gift to her. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see her again, and I’m hoping that as long as she has that jacket, she’ll remember how much I love her.
By RobotPlaque URL on 05.12.2012
here you are
lending an ear to my troubles
a sounding board for my frustrated heart
here I sit
abusing that which I love
for the sake of my fragile sanity
By Domiknitrix URL on 05.12.2012
I’m lending you a piece of me. This you shall keep to remember me always, but I expect it back. Not because I’ll feel like you’ve stolen what is mine but because when I see what I gave up, you’ll be right there. You’ll be holding it, telling me that you took care of one of my million puzzle pieces. Every time that you leave, I will give you a piece of me to follow you.
By Desiree J URL on 05.12.2012
Lending money to people is risky business. If they decide that they don’t need to pay you back before the deadline, you might have to break a few kneecaps. Most people hire some muscle to take care of that stuff. Not Jimmy “The Bones” Malone. He lives his life by that age-old axiom: If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.
By Krospgnasker URL on 05.12.2012
loaning my money
By Norma URL on 05.12.2012
It’s taken you years to realize just what she has been unconditionally lending you: kindness, hope, maybe even love. Lending, but not quite giving. You just wish you had realized that she could take everything back before she actually did.
By WearyWater URL on 05.12.2012
Let me have it.
No.
Just give it to me.
It’s mine.
But you’re mine.
Progressive thinker, aren’t you?
You know what I mean.
Do I?
Please. Let me.
What if you don’t give it back?
I’ll give it back.
How do I know?
Trust me.
…
Please.
So she splays her fingers and he laces his with hers and lending a hand has never seemed so wonderfully satisfying.
By Laura on 05.12.2012
Lending hands and friends and I lent you all my books when we were seventeen and we built a fort out of your books and we hid ourselves in stories and lyrics and songs passed along on the backs of envelopes god knows we write our letters slow and send them even slower with more quotations than any real substance.
By KelseyPR URL on 05.12.2012
Lending a shoe, lending a cup of sugar, lending at the bank. I am tired of thinking about finances, this class stresses me out. My paper is stressing me out, I should not have waited this long to begin working on it. I do not understand the point and I do not have any idea of what to write. ERRG What am I going to or supposed to write about
By Brittiany on 05.12.2012
My friend is lending her hat to me -wheeee
and now my shoes are off my feet
this is gonna be too twee.
By Aniron URL on 05.12.2012
That frozen moment in time, when all agreed what was lent would return. If only were so easy to lend, therefore I never find myself lending. Experience has taught me to be extra picky.
By HelenGrant URL on 05.12.2012
Lending. So many mixed thoughts. It can be a gift, an act of love or of service to someone you care about. But it can also backfire. People may not pay you back or give you back your things. So there’s a matter of risk to it. It can be a beautiful act of service or a huge mistake. So be careful.
By Kat URL on 05.12.2012
Lance livestring liked lending lost people rides in his Lincoln limo.
By vanhaydu URL on 05.12.2012
Giving. Hoping to get back. Could be selfless. Often with fear behind the action… Dread that the receiver will damage your possession, but none the less… you lend.
By Kelly on 05.12.2012
Lending what? Your heart? Your self? Your soul?
“Lending a helping hand” means nothings anymore. People only do things for their own selfish wants.
By Maggie on 05.12.2012
“I’m lending you this against my better judgment you realize? The last time I lent anything to you I never saw it again.”
“I promise I will return it to you, scouts honor!”
By Sheila Good URL on 05.12.2012
I lent you everything. My home. My car. My house. My family. But most importantly, I lent you my heart. Time and time again. But your own darkness, your own pain, your own insecurity, prevented you from ever seeing how much I cared. Who are you anymore?
By Maggie URL on 05.12.2012
This is all I am lending to you, a moment in my life, a fraction of the continuum I will call my memory. For this moment, you can touch me, you can hold me, you can have everything that I am and was and ever will be. If there is one thing you can be sure of, its that for this second, I am nothing without you. And that tomorrow, I will be gone.
By cmsiena URL on 05.12.2012
There is no such thing as an honest bank. Nowadays the only way to get a loan is to prove that you don’t need one.
By Sasha Yedrysek URL on 05.12.2012
The librarian lent me a book on how to maek friends with a table. Obviously it did not teach me how to spell, especially since it did have a chapter on lieking mudkips and making friends with them. But I thing I just want to be friends with my Companion Cube because he is very cute and will never threaten to stab me. He is my friend and I don’t want to kill him.
By yugimew URL on 05.12.2012
a hand. an arm, a leg. you can lend your whole being in any and every way… but be careful. don’t make the mistake I did, don’t let anyone take advantage of you. You are worth more than that.
By Jill on 05.12.2012
how do you conjugate this word in the past tense? lent? lended? i’m not entirely sure. it’s a strange word. sounds like a weak verb, though, not strong.
hmm.
what has life lent you?
By MJ on 05.12.2012
I once lent my friend a precious ring generations old, unfortunatly this proved to be the most fool hardy thing i would ever do. I proved to be great at finding things in my journeys of attempting to recover the tthing. This how i got my current job.
By chris nicho on 05.12.2012