poor posture. me on a bad day. with lots of potato chips. on my couch. watching netflix for hours on end. rhymes with grouch. sometimes they go hand in hand. exciting. life.
I tend to slouch a lot. I have bad posture and need to fix this. I lean in my chair, when I lay down, I tend to lean on something, I bend over when I’m typing. I’m a tall guy and so things never seem close enough because i”m higher than everything.
she slammed the door and all i could do was slouch on our couch. the world stood still. all but our clock which ticked boomingly on the wall reminding me of the silence i would endure until she returned. tick, tick, boom.
Tall people have a tendency to slouch more than short people, I believe, because they’re always bending down to listen and to make eye contact with short people. They also may feel insecure about sticking out of the matrix and in order to compensate for their uniqueness, they slouch back into the foray.
Slouch. I have one, my friends tell me. Muscles strain, but they are misguided. It’s more my neck is at an odd angle, I tell them. Is that true? I have no clue. In an infinite universe, there must be an infinite number of people with odd necks
did you know that my toes mark the beat to the music in my ears? did you know that my hands used to pretend like they were playing the chords i heard? did you know that my fingers stopped weaving melodies into the air when they realized that your voice was a symphony? did you know that my hands stay arched, with the space where your fingers should be as the deafening pauses in the song of you (silence is important in music)? did you know that i’m not good at listening to other people’s melodies, or missing them into a silent space? did you know?
Sit up straighter, they say. They don’t know because they can’t see all of the baggage hanging off of me. I don’t slouch because I like it, I slouch because it eases the burden just a little, lets me get some of that weight off of my shoulders, even if it’s just for a few minutes, or even seconds.
I slouched down on the couch so that whoever was outside the window couldn’t see me.
I was sweating, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.
My sick curiousity was getting the best of me. Slowly I crept toward the top of the couch. I couldn’t resist the urge to see who was there.
One eye slowly breeched the top of the couch with shaky lids.
My eyes hung heavy,
stepping down their stare
case into a brewery
of tears, aged in
stubbornness;
not to be opened
until sour shame
ferments into
an honest
sweet sorry.
–
I’m Sorry.
my eyes hung heavy,
stepping down their stare
case into a brewery
of tears, aged in
stubbornness,
not to be opened
until guilt
ferments
into an
honest
sorry.
don’t slouch. you were raised better than that. if you begin to slouch, your torso will collapse, and your entire body will sink. if you want to be a dancer, you must learn not to slouch.
If you slouch like that, your back will stay that way. If you make that silly face, it’ll get stuck that way. Be careful of the words you think because they will become the words you speak and the actions you perform.
But my question, then, is, if I love you like this why won’t it always stay the same? Why isn’t the love you have for me promised for tomorrow?
hunched. couch. Me sitting comfortably on my couch. water is running from upstairs. doing laundry. relaxed. Always relaxed. seems like I don’t care, but I’m just slouched. Jeans. slouchy jeans. slouch is comfort. slouch is worn. tired. restless. slouch
I slouch over my computer for hours at a time. It’s horrible for my back; I know it is, because when I finally sit up my back pops and creaks like some ancient old door opening for the first time in a hundred years. And yet, still I am addicted to the Internet.
It’s preferable to my real life, is the problem. How can I possibly be motivated to interact with my peers when the entire internet offers its far more fascinating self to me, confusion-free?
DONT SLOUCH
my mom always said!
I’m SLOUCHING
even as i type this on my ergonomic chair.
UGH.
It’s so difficult not to!
It is going to come back to me when I’m about 100 years old.
But for now,
today,
I am slouching.
and gettin shit done!
I slouched in my seat as I turned another page. It was as if this book had entered my world. The world that only a former mental hospital patient could understand. You don’t even realize how surreal it was until you leave.
she slouched over in her desk, letting her hair hit the table top. everything was said and done. right? but she still had this feeling. unease in the pit of her stomach, working its way back up her throat.
If I didn’t sit the way I do and if the couch didn’t slope the way it does and if I thought about it, knowing that my back was going to suffer the next day, I wouldn’t slouch in front of mindless TV, to awaken the following day unable to straighten up. But I am a fool. With a bad back and no brain.
I can’t help but slouch. The only exception is when I’m playing music.
I’m not sure why; I know its the proper way to sit when you’re playing, but I do it without thinking.
Probably because playing music is the only thing I get excited about anymore; its what keeps me going.
I would have died a long time ago if I didn’t have it.
She looked through the envelopes as she slouched on the sofa. She came across the one from him. On the paper, in ink, was written “I love you, please come back.” And that, she did.
I keep my back bent forward just slightly as my back is against the wall, his hands just above me, his face a few inches apart from my own. Sweet breaths we shared and I didn’t dare break apart from him. He’s mine.
she slouches when she walks and she’s passed it on to her son. an unwitting but obvious image of lazy and apathetic. slouching and shuffling through life in sweatpants and worn down ugh knock offs….don’t you ever want to do anything better, BE anything better? shame on you for giving your child that legacy.
I hate when you just won’t drop it. Why can’t you just let it go? It’s exactly what she’s trying to do – to tear our family apart and you just stand there and slouch your shoulders and continue trying to carry on with a conversation that just needs to end. There is nothing we can accomplish now – the lawyer will handle it on Monday
Iz slouched in the cold desks of her High school. ‘How uncomfortable.’ she thought as she listened to the teacher drown on and on about worthless equations. She knew she would use them eventually, but for now, they were hopeless letters and numbers that meant nothing to her.
The rust filled air, blew through the town, as the old newspaper ran with it. Ran through the city, ran through the park up to a slouched man on a bench. The man was old with grey hair. His eyes held wisdom, although looked defeated. He pulled his heavy coat over his shoulders and shivered slightly.
Oh it’s one of the worst habits that I have… I have a tendency to slouch and it makes me look shorter than I really am. Usually thats a good thing considering I am pretty tall for being a girl but it makes me look wider and out of shape hence new practice is to stand up straight, stand up tall and look proud of my height instead of hiding it.
I slouch. I slurp. I slip up. Again. I thought I was better than this. 3 o’clock on the computer. Three minutes fast. I screwed up again. Hammer to the head. They glare at me. What did I do wrong? I’m trying. I really am. I’m isolated. I’m failing. No papers are coming in. I’m writing in my journal. No. Not allowed. All my fault I’m not doing well. All my fault. All my fault. All my fault.
i bend over books
heavy
breathing
stifled by pages of facts
literary monsters
meant to fill my brain with knowledge
instead leave
dust bunnies
in their wake
i hate mondays.
this class is difficult.
i need caffiene.
seventeen hours
studious as always
hermione would be so proud.
He sits on his chair, exhausted. Healing all those people had drained him terribly and he could not help but slouch as he sat there.
i think of a couch and a bent back in my head when i see or read this word ….. mostly read haha
Because I’m invisible anyways.
There is no point in standing straight when no one gives a damn anyways.
poor posture. me on a bad day. with lots of potato chips. on my couch. watching netflix for hours on end. rhymes with grouch. sometimes they go hand in hand. exciting. life.
“Don’t slouch!” she shouted at him. “Buck up! Smile! Behave!”
I tend to slouch a lot. I have bad posture and need to fix this. I lean in my chair, when I lay down, I tend to lean on something, I bend over when I’m typing. I’m a tall guy and so things never seem close enough because i”m higher than everything.
He slouched in the chair, waiting for his name to be called. Oh the suffering of a 13 year old. What difficulties he faced. He was getting another D.
His apathy filled his counselors office.
she slammed the door and all i could do was slouch on our couch. the world stood still. all but our clock which ticked boomingly on the wall reminding me of the silence i would endure until she returned. tick, tick, boom.
Looking at her slouch, combined with the pitiful expression on her face, told her everything she needed to know.
He’d broken her heart – again.
Sheila didn’t know how much she could take of this. Breaking up, getting back together, breaking up again. The back and forth was killing her!
“Oh, mum,” her daughter sighed, “would you not look so stressed? It’s just a soap opera for goodness sake; they’re not real!”
Tall people have a tendency to slouch more than short people, I believe, because they’re always bending down to listen and to make eye contact with short people. They also may feel insecure about sticking out of the matrix and in order to compensate for their uniqueness, they slouch back into the foray.
Slouch. I have one, my friends tell me. Muscles strain, but they are misguided. It’s more my neck is at an odd angle, I tell them. Is that true? I have no clue. In an infinite universe, there must be an infinite number of people with odd necks
did you know that my toes mark the beat to the music in my ears? did you know that my hands used to pretend like they were playing the chords i heard? did you know that my fingers stopped weaving melodies into the air when they realized that your voice was a symphony? did you know that my hands stay arched, with the space where your fingers should be as the deafening pauses in the song of you (silence is important in music)? did you know that i’m not good at listening to other people’s melodies, or missing them into a silent space? did you know?
Sit up straighter, they say. They don’t know because they can’t see all of the baggage hanging off of me. I don’t slouch because I like it, I slouch because it eases the burden just a little, lets me get some of that weight off of my shoulders, even if it’s just for a few minutes, or even seconds.
I slouched down on the couch so that whoever was outside the window couldn’t see me.
I was sweating, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.
My sick curiousity was getting the best of me. Slowly I crept toward the top of the couch. I couldn’t resist the urge to see who was there.
One eye slowly breeched the top of the couch with shaky lids.
My mom tells me to sit up straight all the time. I know she knows best, but why does it feel so uncomfortable?
My eyes hung heavy,
stepping down their stare
case into a brewery
of tears, aged in
stubbornness;
not to be opened
until sour shame
ferments into
an honest
sweet sorry.
–
I’m Sorry.
don’t crouch
don’t bend
don’t turn over again
hold your head up high and
don’t forget that you’re alive
or everyone else will as well.
my eyes hung heavy,
stepping down their stare
case into a brewery
of tears, aged in
stubbornness,
not to be opened
until guilt
ferments
into an
honest
sorry.
don’t slouch. you were raised better than that. if you begin to slouch, your torso will collapse, and your entire body will sink. if you want to be a dancer, you must learn not to slouch.
If you slouch like that, your back will stay that way. If you make that silly face, it’ll get stuck that way. Be careful of the words you think because they will become the words you speak and the actions you perform.
But my question, then, is, if I love you like this why won’t it always stay the same? Why isn’t the love you have for me promised for tomorrow?
hunched. couch. Me sitting comfortably on my couch. water is running from upstairs. doing laundry. relaxed. Always relaxed. seems like I don’t care, but I’m just slouched. Jeans. slouchy jeans. slouch is comfort. slouch is worn. tired. restless. slouch
I slouch over my computer for hours at a time. It’s horrible for my back; I know it is, because when I finally sit up my back pops and creaks like some ancient old door opening for the first time in a hundred years. And yet, still I am addicted to the Internet.
It’s preferable to my real life, is the problem. How can I possibly be motivated to interact with my peers when the entire internet offers its far more fascinating self to me, confusion-free?
DONT SLOUCH
my mom always said!
I’m SLOUCHING
even as i type this on my ergonomic chair.
UGH.
It’s so difficult not to!
It is going to come back to me when I’m about 100 years old.
But for now,
today,
I am slouching.
and gettin shit done!
I slouched in my seat as I turned another page. It was as if this book had entered my world. The world that only a former mental hospital patient could understand. You don’t even realize how surreal it was until you leave.
she slouched over in her desk, letting her hair hit the table top. everything was said and done. right? but she still had this feeling. unease in the pit of her stomach, working its way back up her throat.
If I didn’t sit the way I do and if the couch didn’t slope the way it does and if I thought about it, knowing that my back was going to suffer the next day, I wouldn’t slouch in front of mindless TV, to awaken the following day unable to straighten up. But I am a fool. With a bad back and no brain.
I can’t help but slouch. The only exception is when I’m playing music.
I’m not sure why; I know its the proper way to sit when you’re playing, but I do it without thinking.
Probably because playing music is the only thing I get excited about anymore; its what keeps me going.
I would have died a long time ago if I didn’t have it.
She looked through the envelopes as she slouched on the sofa. She came across the one from him. On the paper, in ink, was written “I love you, please come back.” And that, she did.
I keep my back bent forward just slightly as my back is against the wall, his hands just above me, his face a few inches apart from my own. Sweet breaths we shared and I didn’t dare break apart from him. He’s mine.
she slouches when she walks and she’s passed it on to her son. an unwitting but obvious image of lazy and apathetic. slouching and shuffling through life in sweatpants and worn down ugh knock offs….don’t you ever want to do anything better, BE anything better? shame on you for giving your child that legacy.
Slouching sloths slowly slobber slovenly slogans.
I hate when you just won’t drop it. Why can’t you just let it go? It’s exactly what she’s trying to do – to tear our family apart and you just stand there and slouch your shoulders and continue trying to carry on with a conversation that just needs to end. There is nothing we can accomplish now – the lawyer will handle it on Monday
Iz slouched in the cold desks of her High school. ‘How uncomfortable.’ she thought as she listened to the teacher drown on and on about worthless equations. She knew she would use them eventually, but for now, they were hopeless letters and numbers that meant nothing to her.
The rust filled air, blew through the town, as the old newspaper ran with it. Ran through the city, ran through the park up to a slouched man on a bench. The man was old with grey hair. His eyes held wisdom, although looked defeated. He pulled his heavy coat over his shoulders and shivered slightly.
Oh it’s one of the worst habits that I have… I have a tendency to slouch and it makes me look shorter than I really am. Usually thats a good thing considering I am pretty tall for being a girl but it makes me look wider and out of shape hence new practice is to stand up straight, stand up tall and look proud of my height instead of hiding it.
I slouch. I slurp. I slip up. Again. I thought I was better than this. 3 o’clock on the computer. Three minutes fast. I screwed up again. Hammer to the head. They glare at me. What did I do wrong? I’m trying. I really am. I’m isolated. I’m failing. No papers are coming in. I’m writing in my journal. No. Not allowed. All my fault I’m not doing well. All my fault. All my fault. All my fault.
As I sit here at the computer I realized I was slouching. It’s not good to slouch.
i bend over books
heavy
breathing
stifled by pages of facts
literary monsters
meant to fill my brain with knowledge
instead leave
dust bunnies
in their wake
i hate mondays.
this class is difficult.
i need caffiene.
seventeen hours
studious as always
hermione would be so proud.
it is such a pity to be uninspired. to be sunken into a couch or a chair or a bed or an unhappy feeling so deeply.
I’m being very lazy as my posture slumps down in my seat. Oh comfy seat it is. I look like my back is hurt and nothing will fix the pain.