Never really got into collecting stamps. It such a common hobbie. It’s exquisite but just never got to me. I always used to it in a sarcastic way though. “What’s your hobbie? Collecting stamps?” Or I will use it on myself.
Stamps, traveling afar. One on a letter, taken by snail. Except this one, sitting in my mailbox, needs no stamp. Sent from one building to another, but the most special letter in my heart. Another, in an inbox, no paper necessary, just a keyboard and a heart. But one day, when another is across the world, perhaps a stamp will bring us closer together, although distance keeps us apart.
I think I’ll send this to you. In the mail, because the internet is far too complex. Fuck, I don’t have any stamps. Can’t I just draw one? Stamps..
Stamps..
Stamps..
Oh, screw it I’ll just facebook you.
I could taste the minty stickiness of the stamp as I rubbed it across my tongue. I placed it carefully on the envelope. And there it was: the summation of everything I had worked so hard for the last several years. I knew where the stamp was going, and for a moment, I wished I could be so lucky to know where I would find myself in the future.
She’s always wanted to collect something, and why not? Stamps were as good as any. Except for the fact that nobody ever sent normal or ‘snail’ mail anymore. They all depended on email, and what was the fun in that?
stamps make me think of collections. collections make me think of my favorite thing in the world: elephants! i have so many different things with elephants on them. stuffed animals, figurines, bracelet, earrings, etc. When i grow up i want to ride an elephant. and i will.
Arnold the clerk crouched behind the post office counter as the raging stampede of philatelists rushed forward. Reaching for the emergency trap door lever, he lamented no having anticipated this kind of crazed mob. After all, it was the first day of issue for the stamps depicting Tesswick F. Guttington, the founder of North American stamp collecting.
I want to write a love letter to the one I hold nearest and dearest to my heart. Let my soul bleed with the ink on to the paper and reveal my innermost secret feelings of lust and sexuality.
Thade blinked, confused for a moment as the blood dripped off his nose, like water having been splashed on the face. “Is this what you… is this what you do to people how don’t agree?!” He asked, his words were hushed. “Yes. I stamp them out.” Thorn’s grin shook him to the core as she put her boot in the mess that was once a girl’s head. Insanity.
stamps are lame. there so pointless. why cant we just send letters without putting a stupid fucking stamp on it. its a piece of paper. meaningless. worthless. there even ugly. if im going to stick a stamp on my package, i would at least like it to be attractive. screw the government and there bullshit rules.
I’m sending you over the postcard from wherever this place is I’m at, all I know is you’re not here beside me & well, let’s take my kiss as a stamp. A stamp like all these that are with it that I don’t know where I’ve found, but I’m sure they once meant something for us.
she collected the hurts and put them into her pocket. when she was feeling lonely, she took them out and examined them one by one. carefully arranging them, she began to realize that it was like the stamp collection she had as a child. was it on purpose or subconscious?
The smallest most sticky thing I will ever lick. Yet it can be the most dangerous, infesting my tongue with the eggs of some animal/insect. I choose to never send mail in my entire life unless the result is well worth it.
The young boy flipped through the album, eyes lighting up at the sight of each page. He had been collecting the stamps from the letters his parents had sent him while he attended the boarding school. Tears fell from his eyes, a smile on his lips as he closed the album. Tomorrow he would be receiving another letter. Another stamp. Another sign of the love his parents had for him.
are for licking and sending special love to someone wonderful and beautiful my dear.
Believe I love stamps and things of nostalgic ways of times and days and letters and signs of angels and road maps of where to go next. Journey with post cards and luggage and stamps
are weird lol. They go on letters. I guess the ones with ink are cool. In different colors. They are seals. Supposed to represent something significant. I guess they’re alot more cool now that I think about it. they also rhyme with gramps
I always have stamps in my wallet, which proves beneficial to my roommates, who NEVER seem to have postage available to them. I buy stamps in bulk at the post office, which helps because the price tends to rise a lot. I used to design my own stamps when I was young and a pen-pal to my cousin, Emily.
they give us the ability to communicate in a physical level with people ages away. more so than an email or even skype, sending something you’ve created with your own two hands is something indispensible and needs to be cherished and protected from the savages of technology and a nation addicted to it dependent upon it. As if the more tools we create to facilitate our lives the more we lose the ability to do those things ourselves until something as simple as using a map becomes almost incomprehensible.
Stamps, repeated Harold. Stamps were the only thing in his life any more. After his dearly beloved left, and he was kicked out of his own house that he had built, the only thing he had left was his stamp collection. Clutching the warm book tightly, he walked throughout the streets, against the rain and wind before him.
are placed on the message that cover miles and miles.containg the thoughts of hopefulls souls of soldiers and dreams of college hopefulls. stamps are the key of communication that keep us all together a
stamps are used for envelopes. the better type of stamp is the sticker-type that you don’t have to lick. they are also very expensive. stamp can also refer to a provocative tattoo on a woman’s lower back. we use less stamps now because of electronic payments and e-cards.
I place the flat square
in the upper right corner of the envelope,
making sure the sides are straight,
taking precious seconds
to read the envelope again.
The name is spelled perfectly,
just like I remember it
on his name tag when we first met.
I can see his green gems
looking into my eyes,
hypnotizing.
I feel the soft hands on mine,
look at the face
I learned to love.
But now I see the green gems
in my mind
and I can see his trick.
I am hypnotized no more.
I see him for what he is.
A human
who doesn’t fit me.
Ooh. Stamps! Something added on to the mail, or added as a push or part of a kicked. I stamped around and jumped in joy when I realized I had done what was needed. Although in all simplicity, stamps are just nice to have sometimes. Sometimes collected.
stamps from all around the world. ones with old queens that nobody knows the name of. licking stamps, wish all stamps needed to be licked. i never use stamps. sometimes stamps are pretty cool looking and i am surprised
The thing is, I miss licking the backs of stamps. There was a sweetness to the glue a little reward saying “Good job on being responsible and whatnot, using the postal system.” That little taste was my pat on the back, and now even that is gone.
People seem to always collect stamps, but I never did. I collected dolls. I remember they used to sit perched in my room growing up; they were always in perfect condition. Thinking about it now, my room was always in perfect condition. You never would’ve guessed that a young girl lived there. Maybe it was because I lived with my grandparents, but maybe it was because I’ve always been more mature than most my age.
stamps. tattoos are stamps of a sort. i think tattoos are beautiful. i love hearing people’s tattoo stories and hope to have my own tattoo story of my own some day. tattoos are stamps on our bodies that tells something about us. for me, it will tell something important, something meaningful, something worth telling.
AND SHE LICKED THE STAMPS AND SIGHED… WILL THIS LETTER REACH HIM? HE WILL HAVE NO IDEA SHE HAD RUNED TO THE LOCAL POST OFFICE AND BEGGED THE ATTENDANT TO LET HER IN AND SELL HER THE STAMPS, HOW ROMANCTIC, HOW DESPERATE.
It’s so simple. simple write a letter, place a stamp on it, and mail it off. Someone does all the foot work, the delivery. Why should it feel so awkward? It’s nothing more than a piece of paper, a scrap of silliness. Yet, there’s something personal about seeing your words in physical form, looping to and fro.
Celebrating christmas has always been a chore for Michael. Not the parties. Not the gifts. The fucking cards. And the fucking (fucking!) stamps for them. Who the hell invented something that you had to stick outside a note just to get it where you wanted it. Fucking pre-Internet world. And, now he’d have to trudge downtown in the snow to get another book of the fuckers.
postage
money
letters
angry
feet
above
Canada
worldwide
send
Christmas
football team
camps
envelope
postmaster
angry child
foot
Never really got into collecting stamps. It such a common hobbie. It’s exquisite but just never got to me. I always used to it in a sarcastic way though. “What’s your hobbie? Collecting stamps?” Or I will use it on myself.
Stamps, traveling afar. One on a letter, taken by snail. Except this one, sitting in my mailbox, needs no stamp. Sent from one building to another, but the most special letter in my heart. Another, in an inbox, no paper necessary, just a keyboard and a heart. But one day, when another is across the world, perhaps a stamp will bring us closer together, although distance keeps us apart.
I think I’ll send this to you. In the mail, because the internet is far too complex. Fuck, I don’t have any stamps. Can’t I just draw one? Stamps..
Stamps..
Stamps..
Oh, screw it I’ll just facebook you.
I could taste the minty stickiness of the stamp as I rubbed it across my tongue. I placed it carefully on the envelope. And there it was: the summation of everything I had worked so hard for the last several years. I knew where the stamp was going, and for a moment, I wished I could be so lucky to know where I would find myself in the future.
She’s always wanted to collect something, and why not? Stamps were as good as any. Except for the fact that nobody ever sent normal or ‘snail’ mail anymore. They all depended on email, and what was the fun in that?
stamps make me think of collections. collections make me think of my favorite thing in the world: elephants! i have so many different things with elephants on them. stuffed animals, figurines, bracelet, earrings, etc. When i grow up i want to ride an elephant. and i will.
Arnold the clerk crouched behind the post office counter as the raging stampede of philatelists rushed forward. Reaching for the emergency trap door lever, he lamented no having anticipated this kind of crazed mob. After all, it was the first day of issue for the stamps depicting Tesswick F. Guttington, the founder of North American stamp collecting.
I want to write a love letter to the one I hold nearest and dearest to my heart. Let my soul bleed with the ink on to the paper and reveal my innermost secret feelings of lust and sexuality.
Thade blinked, confused for a moment as the blood dripped off his nose, like water having been splashed on the face. “Is this what you… is this what you do to people how don’t agree?!” He asked, his words were hushed. “Yes. I stamp them out.” Thorn’s grin shook him to the core as she put her boot in the mess that was once a girl’s head. Insanity.
stamps are lame. there so pointless. why cant we just send letters without putting a stupid fucking stamp on it. its a piece of paper. meaningless. worthless. there even ugly. if im going to stick a stamp on my package, i would at least like it to be attractive. screw the government and there bullshit rules.
I’m sending you over the postcard from wherever this place is I’m at, all I know is you’re not here beside me & well, let’s take my kiss as a stamp. A stamp like all these that are with it that I don’t know where I’ve found, but I’m sure they once meant something for us.
she collected the hurts and put them into her pocket. when she was feeling lonely, she took them out and examined them one by one. carefully arranging them, she began to realize that it was like the stamp collection she had as a child. was it on purpose or subconscious?
The smallest most sticky thing I will ever lick. Yet it can be the most dangerous, infesting my tongue with the eggs of some animal/insect. I choose to never send mail in my entire life unless the result is well worth it.
The young boy flipped through the album, eyes lighting up at the sight of each page. He had been collecting the stamps from the letters his parents had sent him while he attended the boarding school. Tears fell from his eyes, a smile on his lips as he closed the album. Tomorrow he would be receiving another letter. Another stamp. Another sign of the love his parents had for him.
stamps arent something i ever think about they’re so boring even though they hav a good purpose. they just dont interest me all that much.
are for licking and sending special love to someone wonderful and beautiful my dear.
Believe I love stamps and things of nostalgic ways of times and days and letters and signs of angels and road maps of where to go next. Journey with post cards and luggage and stamps
are weird lol. They go on letters. I guess the ones with ink are cool. In different colors. They are seals. Supposed to represent something significant. I guess they’re alot more cool now that I think about it. they also rhyme with gramps
Hm… more space… especially after this… sitting?
What was normal, again?
What’s happy?
Stamped into the mind.
Blah =(
I always have stamps in my wallet, which proves beneficial to my roommates, who NEVER seem to have postage available to them. I buy stamps in bulk at the post office, which helps because the price tends to rise a lot. I used to design my own stamps when I was young and a pen-pal to my cousin, Emily.
stamps are a slang term for a provocative tattoo on a woman’s lower back.
they give us the ability to communicate in a physical level with people ages away. more so than an email or even skype, sending something you’ve created with your own two hands is something indispensible and needs to be cherished and protected from the savages of technology and a nation addicted to it dependent upon it. As if the more tools we create to facilitate our lives the more we lose the ability to do those things ourselves until something as simple as using a map becomes almost incomprehensible.
Stamps, repeated Harold. Stamps were the only thing in his life any more. After his dearly beloved left, and he was kicked out of his own house that he had built, the only thing he had left was his stamp collection. Clutching the warm book tightly, he walked throughout the streets, against the rain and wind before him.
are placed on the message that cover miles and miles.containg the thoughts of hopefulls souls of soldiers and dreams of college hopefulls. stamps are the key of communication that keep us all together a
stamps are used for envelopes. the better type of stamp is the sticker-type that you don’t have to lick. they are also very expensive. stamp can also refer to a provocative tattoo on a woman’s lower back. we use less stamps now because of electronic payments and e-cards.
I place the flat square
in the upper right corner of the envelope,
making sure the sides are straight,
taking precious seconds
to read the envelope again.
The name is spelled perfectly,
just like I remember it
on his name tag when we first met.
I can see his green gems
looking into my eyes,
hypnotizing.
I feel the soft hands on mine,
look at the face
I learned to love.
But now I see the green gems
in my mind
and I can see his trick.
I am hypnotized no more.
I see him for what he is.
A human
who doesn’t fit me.
Ooh. Stamps! Something added on to the mail, or added as a push or part of a kicked. I stamped around and jumped in joy when I realized I had done what was needed. Although in all simplicity, stamps are just nice to have sometimes. Sometimes collected.
Stamp a lamp. I stamp on lamps while on a ramp in my camp where the grass is damp. Goddamn lamp. It gave me a cramp.
I have a full set of stamps in my drawer, and a pile of letters addressed to you. Letters you will never read. My stamps stay in their drawer.
Stamps are used in Postal Department. They are released in memory of famous people. Revenue Stanmps are used to accept money.
smelling of far off places, exotic and mystical. laid out in rows in a book, labled, priced and laid bare.
stamps from all around the world. ones with old queens that nobody knows the name of. licking stamps, wish all stamps needed to be licked. i never use stamps. sometimes stamps are pretty cool looking and i am surprised
from far away places, they smell like travel, exotic. labeled in a book, numbered, counted, laid bare.
The thing is, I miss licking the backs of stamps. There was a sweetness to the glue a little reward saying “Good job on being responsible and whatnot, using the postal system.” That little taste was my pat on the back, and now even that is gone.
People seem to always collect stamps, but I never did. I collected dolls. I remember they used to sit perched in my room growing up; they were always in perfect condition. Thinking about it now, my room was always in perfect condition. You never would’ve guessed that a young girl lived there. Maybe it was because I lived with my grandparents, but maybe it was because I’ve always been more mature than most my age.
so expensive and seemingly useless in this day and age…but they have a certain idea behind them. they provide something that email cannot
stamps. tattoos are stamps of a sort. i think tattoos are beautiful. i love hearing people’s tattoo stories and hope to have my own tattoo story of my own some day. tattoos are stamps on our bodies that tells something about us. for me, it will tell something important, something meaningful, something worth telling.
AND SHE LICKED THE STAMPS AND SIGHED… WILL THIS LETTER REACH HIM? HE WILL HAVE NO IDEA SHE HAD RUNED TO THE LOCAL POST OFFICE AND BEGGED THE ATTENDANT TO LET HER IN AND SELL HER THE STAMPS, HOW ROMANCTIC, HOW DESPERATE.
It’s so simple. simple write a letter, place a stamp on it, and mail it off. Someone does all the foot work, the delivery. Why should it feel so awkward? It’s nothing more than a piece of paper, a scrap of silliness. Yet, there’s something personal about seeing your words in physical form, looping to and fro.
Celebrating christmas has always been a chore for Michael. Not the parties. Not the gifts. The fucking cards. And the fucking (fucking!) stamps for them. Who the hell invented something that you had to stick outside a note just to get it where you wanted it. Fucking pre-Internet world. And, now he’d have to trudge downtown in the snow to get another book of the fuckers.