leafy
dirty
old
white green
decompose
need to be cleaned
soap
oxyclean
i’m not sure what the purpose of this is…. can’t wait for the sixty seconds to run up almost there almostttttttt
residue. When I think residue I think sticky. Like there’s something left behind on your hands that you just can’t seem to get off. But then dirt starts sticking to it and it starts to not only become residue from an adhesive, but a residue of the past 5-10 minutes of your life.
Not knowing where to start, Kelly opened the oven only to find the residue from the previous tenants still there. This was going to take a while to clean up.
She wiped her fingers through the slick material, the asteroid leaving a sticky residue on her finger tips.
“I know what this is,” Agent Joanne Kismel stated concisely, her thoughts ringing true.
“The answer is elementary”
The residue on the cold morning grass greeted my hands as I sat on the wet ground. I smile. I enjoy this place. Without it, many issues would still stand unresolved. But, no. This place is here. For real this time.
We needed a sea chart. So we printed out a copy, and made the measurements on the paper. Wrong paper of course. So we taped it to the window and traced it onto some glue paper. s we pealed the tape off the glass, I wondered how long the residue would last. When would it be cleaned? How many people have taped to that window before?
The residue he left on her soul, that was permanent. It wasn’t something she could wash off, something that would fade with age. It was a permanent scar, a burn on her very being, plain as could be, if only one would merely look in her eyes.
…His residue drips from her petals as she gazes into the horizon… memories of a distant planet fill her soul as she pants with pleasure and throbbing love…
…His residue drips from her petals as she gazes into the horizon… memories of a distant planet fill her soul as she pants with pleasure and throbbing love…
residue residure residue, i dont know what to write about, i guess just me reisdue feeling on a lot of my choices i have made in my life and how i regret a lot. but maybe acouple years down the line i might not re
one day i was walking in the shore, then i saw a residue of a fish that was laying on the sand, so i said, omg, what the fuck with this residue, it have must been a pain in the ass for this poor fish, and then i walked on.
there was a lot of residue on the floor today. It wasnt like any other day. where as only yesterday the residue was blue and now it is a sunset orange colors. times are changing and so must the colors. It is a shame that it had to come and go do fast. So long blue residue.
His residue drips from her petals as she gazes into the horizon… memories of a distant planet fill her soul as she pants with pleasure and throbbing love.
There was a thick residue permeating the air, covering her clothes, coating the insides of her lungs. The ocean breeze did not disturb the thick cloud around her, chilling her to the bone instead. She had survived this desolate place for this long – this was another obstacle she would have to overcome.
Fire is always changing the state of any matter. The residue left behind after the viscous matter has evaporated is something to behold and carefully observe. It leaves behind the history of the original matter.
Understood in the romantic sense of course…
Inside of me lives the residue of something that was spectacular between you and I. You can tell it was spectacular just by looking into the residue, that resides in my chest.
I can’t let go.
residue sometimes upsets me because of the fact that when you buy something nice, you want it to stay nice, and you shouldn’t have to worry about your things getting grimy and needing maintainability. I wish everything would just stay as clean as the day you got it. Life would be easier..
I stared into the glass, hoping, praying, that I would see nothing in return. I was exhausted after my morning run and all I craved was a crisp glass of ice water to quench my thirst. I looked into the glass, fresh out of the dishwasher, hoping it would be clean and ready for me to fill with water… but there it was, staring back at me like a slap in the face: residue.
it is sticky. everywhere. it leaves a mess. jizz. screaming orgasms. i hope my roommate doesn’t read this. It stinks. Sometimes residue makes me think of ponies. and unicorns and giraffes. I like spaghetti. The sauce can leave a residue. Lets eat pasta. I miss home.
Residue is everywhere
it brings bad impact for our body
the transportation blow out its residue and it spreads away to the air
make our lungs hard to breath
and it is one of the cause of Global Warming
Looking back, he had to say the worst part about it–about killing the creature–had not been the shrieking wail that bounced back and forth in the abandoned warehouse (and inside his head, or so he thought) nor the way it lay piteously twitching once he was done with it. No, worst of all was the tar-like black residue encrusted on the soles of his shoes from where he had stomped on it. The stuff was almost as solid as cement, and Italian leather did not come cheap.
stains and stuff left behind. most of the time its gross color and texture from other gross stuff residing from other stuff due to something resident left behind haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i dont even know im really nervous ha ah ha ah uh residue due tomorrow test tomorrow uh
the soap residue in the sink that makes my mother crazy. residue. it’s her worst nightmare. she wakes up in the morning scouring the sink for the leftover toothpaste residue and anything else she can manage to find in her quest for perfection. it’s what starts fights between her, my dad, and i. it’s what makes her clean until her hands ache and she can no longer stand on her feet anymore. all that over one thing…reside.
The residue was seeping away, becoming crustier by the second. Unsure of what it was, we touched it hesitantly, sure we would become the victims of Tetnus. These were always the things we did together though, dating him was the biggest reason for shots.
of mold on the side of a bathtub. reeking with humidity, the overpowering scent of dirt floating in from out the window..she held her breath as she breathed it in
the stuff I find after something has left it like the stains on windows when the rain has past and the sun is shining. It’s the memory of something that once existed but no longer holds on to the place it had.
“There’s some kind of residue over here.” Jameson waved her over with a flicker of his flashlight. “What do you make of it?”
“Don’t know.” She bent down to eyelevel to examine the fine dust on the bookshelf. “What do you think? It’s a little thin to be papers.”
“You don’t think…”
“I’d rather not jump to conclusions, though I’d like to point out the obvious lack of a body, my dear.” She wrinkled her nose. “The smells are fine, just everything’s all…burnt.”
“It’s called fire.” Jameson turned away, inspecting the support beams of one wall. “It generally leaves a rather burnt smell behind.”
The longer something exist as itself, the harder it is to change. Inertia isn’t just about momentum, movement, and physics; the remains of the past invariably change the world we inhabit. Even if we are able to change things, evidence of our past triumphs and mistakes leave an indelible residue
One can one say about residue. It’s positively awful. The way it clogs my heart and mind and soul. The way it slows me down. How absolutely useless could something be but residue. How terrible.
She shook her head wildly, wet tendrils of hair sticking to her stinging cheeks. Her lips twisted unhappily as she felt the sticky residue of rain left on skin. She really wished she had remembered to bring an umbrella.
leafy
dirty
old
white green
decompose
need to be cleaned
soap
oxyclean
i’m not sure what the purpose of this is…. can’t wait for the sixty seconds to run up almost there almostttttttt
i’m scraping the residue of the day from my soul. the vc tle floor, the hand sanitizer. You are safe now. Just let the psychiatrist do his job.
residue. When I think residue I think sticky. Like there’s something left behind on your hands that you just can’t seem to get off. But then dirt starts sticking to it and it starts to not only become residue from an adhesive, but a residue of the past 5-10 minutes of your life.
Not knowing where to start, Kelly opened the oven only to find the residue from the previous tenants still there. This was going to take a while to clean up.
She wiped her fingers through the slick material, the asteroid leaving a sticky residue on her finger tips.
“I know what this is,” Agent Joanne Kismel stated concisely, her thoughts ringing true.
“The answer is elementary”
The residue on the cold morning grass greeted my hands as I sat on the wet ground. I smile. I enjoy this place. Without it, many issues would still stand unresolved. But, no. This place is here. For real this time.
the white, the remain of you, the stale, the few, the residue, the pale, the dew, the end of you, the left over, the fog of some thing un-knew.
We needed a sea chart. So we printed out a copy, and made the measurements on the paper. Wrong paper of course. So we taped it to the window and traced it onto some glue paper. s we pealed the tape off the glass, I wondered how long the residue would last. When would it be cleaned? How many people have taped to that window before?
a wet left over moist sometimes dusty after math of spraying things or wiping matter up.
The residue he left on her soul, that was permanent. It wasn’t something she could wash off, something that would fade with age. It was a permanent scar, a burn on her very being, plain as could be, if only one would merely look in her eyes.
…His residue drips from her petals as she gazes into the horizon… memories of a distant planet fill her soul as she pants with pleasure and throbbing love…
the white the remain of you the stale the few the residue the pale the dew the end of you the left over the fog of some thing un-knew.
…His residue drips from her petals as she gazes into the horizon… memories of a distant planet fill her soul as she pants with pleasure and throbbing love…
residue residure residue, i dont know what to write about, i guess just me reisdue feeling on a lot of my choices i have made in my life and how i regret a lot. but maybe acouple years down the line i might not re
one day i was walking in the shore, then i saw a residue of a fish that was laying on the sand, so i said, omg, what the fuck with this residue, it have must been a pain in the ass for this poor fish, and then i walked on.
there was a lot of residue on the floor today. It wasnt like any other day. where as only yesterday the residue was blue and now it is a sunset orange colors. times are changing and so must the colors. It is a shame that it had to come and go do fast. So long blue residue.
His residue drips from her petals as she gazes into the horizon… memories of a distant planet fill her soul as she pants with pleasure and throbbing love.
There was a thick residue permeating the air, covering her clothes, coating the insides of her lungs. The ocean breeze did not disturb the thick cloud around her, chilling her to the bone instead. She had survived this desolate place for this long – this was another obstacle she would have to overcome.
Fire is always changing the state of any matter. The residue left behind after the viscous matter has evaporated is something to behold and carefully observe. It leaves behind the history of the original matter.
Understood in the romantic sense of course…
Inside of me lives the residue of something that was spectacular between you and I. You can tell it was spectacular just by looking into the residue, that resides in my chest.
I can’t let go.
We spend our days wiping away regrets and lost memories. Yet somehow, residue is left behind. Mistakes are hard to let go of.
residue sometimes upsets me because of the fact that when you buy something nice, you want it to stay nice, and you shouldn’t have to worry about your things getting grimy and needing maintainability. I wish everything would just stay as clean as the day you got it. Life would be easier..
Residue has its own aesthetic beauty. It has it’s place in all things.
I stared into the glass, hoping, praying, that I would see nothing in return. I was exhausted after my morning run and all I craved was a crisp glass of ice water to quench my thirst. I looked into the glass, fresh out of the dishwasher, hoping it would be clean and ready for me to fill with water… but there it was, staring back at me like a slap in the face: residue.
the only thing left of her now was residue, Noone could tie me to her death anymore. I was sure of it.
There was a knock at the door, my eyes darted before I could bring up the nerve to answer it.
it is sticky. everywhere. it leaves a mess. jizz. screaming orgasms. i hope my roommate doesn’t read this. It stinks. Sometimes residue makes me think of ponies. and unicorns and giraffes. I like spaghetti. The sauce can leave a residue. Lets eat pasta. I miss home.
Residue is everywhere
it brings bad impact for our body
the transportation blow out its residue and it spreads away to the air
make our lungs hard to breath
and it is one of the cause of Global Warming
Looking back, he had to say the worst part about it–about killing the creature–had not been the shrieking wail that bounced back and forth in the abandoned warehouse (and inside his head, or so he thought) nor the way it lay piteously twitching once he was done with it. No, worst of all was the tar-like black residue encrusted on the soles of his shoes from where he had stomped on it. The stuff was almost as solid as cement, and Italian leather did not come cheap.
stains and stuff left behind. most of the time its gross color and texture from other gross stuff residing from other stuff due to something resident left behind haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i dont even know im really nervous ha ah ha ah uh residue due tomorrow test tomorrow uh
it was left on the back of her brow. she’d swept her hand across her face, in exhaustion after working for hours upon hours in the muck.
the soap residue in the sink that makes my mother crazy. residue. it’s her worst nightmare. she wakes up in the morning scouring the sink for the leftover toothpaste residue and anything else she can manage to find in her quest for perfection. it’s what starts fights between her, my dad, and i. it’s what makes her clean until her hands ache and she can no longer stand on her feet anymore. all that over one thing…reside.
The residue was seeping away, becoming crustier by the second. Unsure of what it was, we touched it hesitantly, sure we would become the victims of Tetnus. These were always the things we did together though, dating him was the biggest reason for shots.
of mold on the side of a bathtub. reeking with humidity, the overpowering scent of dirt floating in from out the window..she held her breath as she breathed it in
Residue. Resident. Reside. Side. Square. Four. Fingers. Cartoons. Violence. Comedy. Resist. Physics. Reside. 2-Dimensional. World. Residue.
soap residue
grim residue
gum
sex residue
dirty
greasy
slimy
smooth slippery w
the stuff I find after something has left it like the stains on windows when the rain has past and the sun is shining. It’s the memory of something that once existed but no longer holds on to the place it had.
“There’s some kind of residue over here.” Jameson waved her over with a flicker of his flashlight. “What do you make of it?”
“Don’t know.” She bent down to eyelevel to examine the fine dust on the bookshelf. “What do you think? It’s a little thin to be papers.”
“You don’t think…”
“I’d rather not jump to conclusions, though I’d like to point out the obvious lack of a body, my dear.” She wrinkled her nose. “The smells are fine, just everything’s all…burnt.”
“It’s called fire.” Jameson turned away, inspecting the support beams of one wall. “It generally leaves a rather burnt smell behind.”
The longer something exist as itself, the harder it is to change. Inertia isn’t just about momentum, movement, and physics; the remains of the past invariably change the world we inhabit. Even if we are able to change things, evidence of our past triumphs and mistakes leave an indelible residue
One can one say about residue. It’s positively awful. The way it clogs my heart and mind and soul. The way it slows me down. How absolutely useless could something be but residue. How terrible.
She shook her head wildly, wet tendrils of hair sticking to her stinging cheeks. Her lips twisted unhappily as she felt the sticky residue of rain left on skin. She really wished she had remembered to bring an umbrella.