the staple glued itself to my page and would not allow me to release my forever stuck papers. I desperately needed to finish my assignment and hand it in. Fate on the other hand, seemed to think otherwise. Why was everything so difficult? Once again I attempted pulling the staple free, but it would not budge.
Holds things together… stomachs, paper. Sometimes is used as the word for the keystone of our lives, ie ‘a staple of our diet’. The idea of getting a staple, stapled into my eye scares me sometimes.
“It sounds so weird.” He said looking at the stapler on the desk. “With one quick move, it’s connecting sheets, creating one whole organism, out of hordes of loose papers.”
Do not be too clever or too distant. They won’t like you. Do not try to make “art”, you will only alienate your audience and you will fail to communicate, which is always your objective. Be like the potato. The boiled potato. Beautiful and populist.
The staple of her diet was as intangible as it was substantial: Fiction. She was addicted to it as much as any earthling to air or human to companionship. Without it she would slowly corrode, crumbling to the touches of Time’s calloused hands like a forgotten statue: the monument of a great empire now irrelevant.
I staple my heart to yours and hope it doesn’t hurt. Even if we are bleeding, we will be together forever. And that is what is meant with: until death will part us?
Standing overhead, with their arms spread out and nearly touching one another, they stood with her in the middle. Her face contorted to my sleepy eyes to seem as if beckoning and clownlike. It seemed reminiscent of some scene from a dark horror movie. The past week has been like a staple in a wound, relieving yet painfully so. And this had defined it; beckoning.
She held the staple in her hands. Softly, she ran the other through it’s misty tendrils and pursed her lips. What basic need would this become to be? As Earth, her decision for the last staple of life was necessary. With a smile and a few whispered words, the wisps of fog parted and dispersed into nothing, particles scattering themselves over the planet and into every organism.
I tore the pages off of my wall, the staples staying embedded, I didn’t want any reminders. I didn’t want the love letters, the silly drawings, the insignificant post-it notes, I didn’t want to see them anymore.
I met a man in Staple’s once
A tall man yes he was.
I never thought a man like him
Would be there, just because
A man like that would never be
In such a classy store
The clothes he wore were torn and dirty
Because he is a whore.
He sells himself to everyone
The teachers kids and cats
Almost like a shadow, a ghost, he was. In the corners of her vision she saw him flit out of sight, but never out of mind. She used to feel disturbed at his almost omnipresence, now he was just part of the background. A ever-present staple in the ever-changing landscapes.
a big staple in my life is food. of course everyone needs food. humans animals plants need food. different kinds of course. maybe oxygen is your food. or a bug. but for humans, there’s all kinds of choices. but when you use food to make you happy or you eat when you’re stressed and that just so happens to be very often….food can start to be a negative in your life. you gain weight for one thing, plus its unhealthy, and by using food as you’re source for happiness…you’re missing out on all the happiness you could garner from other things in your life.
this word could be used in many different ways. what is a staple in my life? of course, there are certain foods that are a staple in my life. there are certain pieces of clothing that are a staple to me, like my high waisted black pants or my leather jacket. then there is music. music is a staple in my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way,
At the moment I’m keeping my life together with staples. They aren’t a permanent fix. They aren’t the most “aesthetic” fix. They aren’ the greatest. But these staples, also metaphorically known as my family, are what is holding me together. They are basically my staples.
ahh the staple. the staple is so useful and necessary in our daily work lives. without staples how would be organized!? there is a store named staple. it’s a useful store as well.
She staples my mouth shut and tells me it’s different this time;
that she won’t talk over my screams like all the times before.
The word should be gullible.
It keeps us attached at the seems, everything feels like it’s falling apart, I just want to find the small tint of metal on the floor to put it all back together. I can’t find it. It’s slipping. Where is that damn staple? Please.
As I reached over to take the staple that will end my meaningless life I saw in that reflection the family and friends I would be leaving behind in my futile attempt at redemption. I saw a bright light and then woke up on the ground. I saw my family starring at me with smiles on their face and I realized how small and beautiful life truly is. I saw hope.
Caught between my fingers. It’s hard. It’s cold. It chills me past my skin, my nerves, my bones. It chills me to the very fibre of my being. I have a line of them up my spine. Skin puckered and red. The pain is blinding. I can’t remember what happened yesterday. I can’t remember what happened today. I only remember pain.
staple me to your bed. tie me there and make me yours. I’m so tired of wishing and wanting and waiting for mr. perfect to give in to my lustful fantasies even though of course it’s worth the wait. I’m going to make you ____ for me nonstop in and around your bed baby
“Staple?” Briana stared at him. “You want to know if I’ve seen a purple staple?”
The young man shrugged. “It’s got a purple staple on it, but I need to fix something real bad.”
“Really badly.” The receptionist corrected, automatically. “A college degree should have at least given you that much.” She frowned. “I can check the papers, but I cannot promise you anything at all.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He smiled, gratefully. “I just need to fix something on it.
She moved to the pile of papers stacked up on the wide desk and quickly flipped through them. One paper, with a bright purple staple caught her eye. She handed it over, with a frown. “Take better care next time.”
He smiled at her, brilliantly beautiful and hauntingly sorrowful in the same expression. “Thank you.”
“eat this” he said, handing me a bowl of oatmeal mush. “This is all you’ll get, the staple of your diet” and slammed the door.
I stared at the bowl, not knowing what to do with it. Eat and stay behind bars forever? Or die and leave for s better place?
there once was a staple name maple. and nobody liked to use it because it was bent but shed fdid not knoed it and so she thought nobody like her so she was lonley. so one day she found a boy staple and they started to hang out and onece they got to know each other than they would becon bf and gfs. so thay did and 4 years later they got married and was happy. so they had a baby staple. they named it staple stud. he was a lot to handle. like his dad.so one day they went out to eat and for a walk.and when they were on there walk a guy lokked at them wereever they went. they thought it was creepy. he followed them on there walk and the dad was not afraid and asked him ,”WHY DO YOU KEEP LOOKING AT MY STAPLE AND WIFE?” And the old man said you look fimiliare . i lost my little staple and i dont know were he wnet and your son looks liked him alot. so i was wonderfing if that was him. so i am sorry ovisly it is not and i should just go home and deel with it. and thed dad said thatwell it is very sad that you lost your stalpe and i just wanted to help i did not want to hurt your feelings.
I have a friend who recently stapled her stomach shut. I grabbed the stapler off of my desk and bound the pages I just scribbled all over so that the next person will know which order they’re to be read in. everybody has their staple, and it’s a chooseable and sometimes requited destiny to seek and chew it out, but not always necessary or wanted. remember you put it there, might’ve been for a reason.
What is the purpose of out insignificant attempts to cultivate a civilization, bind together as one people? We sow and harvest, drill and forge, read and vote. Is this a staple of our ways, a staple that connects us, or a staple that pierces our inner souls and rips us apart?
The sun beating down every inch of my body to my knuckles and up my neck and finally to my eyes I take away the caution to do anything but breathe and I sprawl myself, outwards, and pray. Like pulling staples off your fingers, it’s gotta hurt but you gotta.
I’m here. It’s been a while. I miss the cool breeze, the ambiance and the food. It’s really different here. There’s something about this place that makes me feel really at home.
She stapled their relationship shut. No more feelings, just a mere hello in the hallways of school. She was done with secrets, just a slight how’s the weather was their conversation typically now. She was done with the meanness, the lies, and everything hateful that followed. Their relation ship was stapled shut
i couldn’t think. all i could see was the staple stuck in my finger and what, to me, looked like loads amount of blood. you see, im one of the people who will pass out at the sight of blood so i was probably exagerating about the amount gushing out, but still. my last thought before i blacked out was “how could i be so stupid not to pay attention while stapling”.
I staple these sheets together before I turn the project in. My project composes all of my ideas into a single stack binded by a metal object. My ideas, my beliefs, my feelings, my passions, my hopes, my dreams, my everything. I just hope the staple won’t ruin the structure of my life.
Sooo useful. But reminds me of work, ew. However, I love the sound of staples because it usually means you just completed an assignment, and stapling is the last thing you have to do to complete the task. They seem dangerous though…i stapled my finger once :O
I wish I could write, really. Like, if it were possibly to create a work of fiction that could take you and I on a journey, I’d do it in a New York minute. But, I just can’t; the blood has already bled out long ago, and I am left here begging for some conviction. Some comfort. Some reminder I’m not dead. How does this relate to a staple? Nothing, I guess. Besides the thought lingering in my head that staples are just some tiny metallic teeth clenching the thoughtless scribbles of each individual page.
She staples those papers every morning, the click click click sound floating in her head. She staples those papers each and every morning, the memories of the past lying dead. She was not crazy, not in the slightest bit. I think I could had learned to love her, if I knew she was good at stapling shut the wicked things in her head.
Lying on the floor of the van, or rather sliding back and forth on the floor as the van careened through the wasteland, was a large construction staple. Jensen rolled over in the tussling and found it with his hands trussed behind his back. “It’s time for me to blow this popsicle stand,” Jensen thought to himself, “With or without my new Ninja amor.”
Everyone belonged to me at one point in time. Right down to the children, the teachers, the parents. They all believed in me and my words. My ability to write meant I wouldn’t be here forever, stuck with them in oblivion. And where am I now? They’ve all gone, took their beliefs with them, and I’m stuck here, stapled to the ground. Stapled to the past, where maybe I was interesting and interested but now I’m just old news.
only the things we need. we’re going to get what we need. nothing else. we except maybe a little of this. and oh yeah we’re out of that. we could really use one of these. check out time. how did we end up with so much stuff?? we only came to get staple items…. :/
My friend is deeply afraid of staplers. To help her out, I tried looking up the fear on the internet, to no avail. The internet told me that she should probably see a psychologist, but I know she’s not mentally insane…but now she definitely sounds mentally insane. Well, anyway, I just would like to know what that fear is, but it appears as though there isn’t a “phobia” laid out for it. *sigh*
the staple glued itself to my page and would not allow me to release my forever stuck papers. I desperately needed to finish my assignment and hand it in. Fate on the other hand, seemed to think otherwise. Why was everything so difficult? Once again I attempted pulling the staple free, but it would not budge.
Holds things together… stomachs, paper. Sometimes is used as the word for the keystone of our lives, ie ‘a staple of our diet’. The idea of getting a staple, stapled into my eye scares me sometimes.
“It sounds so weird.” He said looking at the stapler on the desk. “With one quick move, it’s connecting sheets, creating one whole organism, out of hordes of loose papers.”
Do not be too clever or too distant. They won’t like you. Do not try to make “art”, you will only alienate your audience and you will fail to communicate, which is always your objective. Be like the potato. The boiled potato. Beautiful and populist.
The staple of her diet was as intangible as it was substantial: Fiction. She was addicted to it as much as any earthling to air or human to companionship. Without it she would slowly corrode, crumbling to the touches of Time’s calloused hands like a forgotten statue: the monument of a great empire now irrelevant.
I staple my heart to yours and hope it doesn’t hurt. Even if we are bleeding, we will be together forever. And that is what is meant with: until death will part us?
Standing overhead, with their arms spread out and nearly touching one another, they stood with her in the middle. Her face contorted to my sleepy eyes to seem as if beckoning and clownlike. It seemed reminiscent of some scene from a dark horror movie. The past week has been like a staple in a wound, relieving yet painfully so. And this had defined it; beckoning.
She held the staple in her hands. Softly, she ran the other through it’s misty tendrils and pursed her lips. What basic need would this become to be? As Earth, her decision for the last staple of life was necessary. With a smile and a few whispered words, the wisps of fog parted and dispersed into nothing, particles scattering themselves over the planet and into every organism.
that’s what I need! fasten! hold! bind these together with wire I say!
I tore the pages off of my wall, the staples staying embedded, I didn’t want any reminders. I didn’t want the love letters, the silly drawings, the insignificant post-it notes, I didn’t want to see them anymore.
I met a man in Staple’s once
A tall man yes he was.
I never thought a man like him
Would be there, just because
A man like that would never be
In such a classy store
The clothes he wore were torn and dirty
Because he is a whore.
He sells himself to everyone
The teachers kids and cats
Almost like a shadow, a ghost, he was. In the corners of her vision she saw him flit out of sight, but never out of mind. She used to feel disturbed at his almost omnipresence, now he was just part of the background. A ever-present staple in the ever-changing landscapes.
My project, my life’s work from the last 2 hours, all held together by a small metal clip.
So much hard work behind a few sheets of paper.
a big staple in my life is food. of course everyone needs food. humans animals plants need food. different kinds of course. maybe oxygen is your food. or a bug. but for humans, there’s all kinds of choices. but when you use food to make you happy or you eat when you’re stressed and that just so happens to be very often….food can start to be a negative in your life. you gain weight for one thing, plus its unhealthy, and by using food as you’re source for happiness…you’re missing out on all the happiness you could garner from other things in your life.
this word could be used in many different ways. what is a staple in my life? of course, there are certain foods that are a staple in my life. there are certain pieces of clothing that are a staple to me, like my high waisted black pants or my leather jacket. then there is music. music is a staple in my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way,
At the moment I’m keeping my life together with staples. They aren’t a permanent fix. They aren’t the most “aesthetic” fix. They aren’ the greatest. But these staples, also metaphorically known as my family, are what is holding me together. They are basically my staples.
ahh the staple. the staple is so useful and necessary in our daily work lives. without staples how would be organized!? there is a store named staple. it’s a useful store as well.
She staples my mouth shut and tells me it’s different this time;
that she won’t talk over my screams like all the times before.
The word should be gullible.
It keeps us attached at the seems, everything feels like it’s falling apart, I just want to find the small tint of metal on the floor to put it all back together. I can’t find it. It’s slipping. Where is that damn staple? Please.
As I reached over to take the staple that will end my meaningless life I saw in that reflection the family and friends I would be leaving behind in my futile attempt at redemption. I saw a bright light and then woke up on the ground. I saw my family starring at me with smiles on their face and I realized how small and beautiful life truly is. I saw hope.
Caught between my fingers. It’s hard. It’s cold. It chills me past my skin, my nerves, my bones. It chills me to the very fibre of my being. I have a line of them up my spine. Skin puckered and red. The pain is blinding. I can’t remember what happened yesterday. I can’t remember what happened today. I only remember pain.
staple me to your bed. tie me there and make me yours. I’m so tired of wishing and wanting and waiting for mr. perfect to give in to my lustful fantasies even though of course it’s worth the wait. I’m going to make you ____ for me nonstop in and around your bed baby
“Staple?” Briana stared at him. “You want to know if I’ve seen a purple staple?”
The young man shrugged. “It’s got a purple staple on it, but I need to fix something real bad.”
“Really badly.” The receptionist corrected, automatically. “A college degree should have at least given you that much.” She frowned. “I can check the papers, but I cannot promise you anything at all.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He smiled, gratefully. “I just need to fix something on it.
She moved to the pile of papers stacked up on the wide desk and quickly flipped through them. One paper, with a bright purple staple caught her eye. She handed it over, with a frown. “Take better care next time.”
He smiled at her, brilliantly beautiful and hauntingly sorrowful in the same expression. “Thank you.”
“eat this” he said, handing me a bowl of oatmeal mush. “This is all you’ll get, the staple of your diet” and slammed the door.
I stared at the bowl, not knowing what to do with it. Eat and stay behind bars forever? Or die and leave for s better place?
there once was a staple name maple. and nobody liked to use it because it was bent but shed fdid not knoed it and so she thought nobody like her so she was lonley. so one day she found a boy staple and they started to hang out and onece they got to know each other than they would becon bf and gfs. so thay did and 4 years later they got married and was happy. so they had a baby staple. they named it staple stud. he was a lot to handle. like his dad.so one day they went out to eat and for a walk.and when they were on there walk a guy lokked at them wereever they went. they thought it was creepy. he followed them on there walk and the dad was not afraid and asked him ,”WHY DO YOU KEEP LOOKING AT MY STAPLE AND WIFE?” And the old man said you look fimiliare . i lost my little staple and i dont know were he wnet and your son looks liked him alot. so i was wonderfing if that was him. so i am sorry ovisly it is not and i should just go home and deel with it. and thed dad said thatwell it is very sad that you lost your stalpe and i just wanted to help i did not want to hurt your feelings.
I have a friend who recently stapled her stomach shut. I grabbed the stapler off of my desk and bound the pages I just scribbled all over so that the next person will know which order they’re to be read in. everybody has their staple, and it’s a chooseable and sometimes requited destiny to seek and chew it out, but not always necessary or wanted. remember you put it there, might’ve been for a reason.
What is the purpose of out insignificant attempts to cultivate a civilization, bind together as one people? We sow and harvest, drill and forge, read and vote. Is this a staple of our ways, a staple that connects us, or a staple that pierces our inner souls and rips us apart?
I got staples from Naples, lemurs for your femur,
Last but not least, melons that need a smellens..
Come one, come all to my wonderful municipality…
The sun beating down every inch of my body to my knuckles and up my neck and finally to my eyes I take away the caution to do anything but breathe and I sprawl myself, outwards, and pray. Like pulling staples off your fingers, it’s gotta hurt but you gotta.
I’m here. It’s been a while. I miss the cool breeze, the ambiance and the food. It’s really different here. There’s something about this place that makes me feel really at home.
She stapled their relationship shut. No more feelings, just a mere hello in the hallways of school. She was done with secrets, just a slight how’s the weather was their conversation typically now. She was done with the meanness, the lies, and everything hateful that followed. Their relation ship was stapled shut
i couldn’t think. all i could see was the staple stuck in my finger and what, to me, looked like loads amount of blood. you see, im one of the people who will pass out at the sight of blood so i was probably exagerating about the amount gushing out, but still. my last thought before i blacked out was “how could i be so stupid not to pay attention while stapling”.
I staple these sheets together before I turn the project in. My project composes all of my ideas into a single stack binded by a metal object. My ideas, my beliefs, my feelings, my passions, my hopes, my dreams, my everything. I just hope the staple won’t ruin the structure of my life.
Sooo useful. But reminds me of work, ew. However, I love the sound of staples because it usually means you just completed an assignment, and stapling is the last thing you have to do to complete the task. They seem dangerous though…i stapled my finger once :O
I wish I could write, really. Like, if it were possibly to create a work of fiction that could take you and I on a journey, I’d do it in a New York minute. But, I just can’t; the blood has already bled out long ago, and I am left here begging for some conviction. Some comfort. Some reminder I’m not dead. How does this relate to a staple? Nothing, I guess. Besides the thought lingering in my head that staples are just some tiny metallic teeth clenching the thoughtless scribbles of each individual page.
She staples those papers every morning, the click click click sound floating in her head. She staples those papers each and every morning, the memories of the past lying dead. She was not crazy, not in the slightest bit. I think I could had learned to love her, if I knew she was good at stapling shut the wicked things in her head.
Lying on the floor of the van, or rather sliding back and forth on the floor as the van careened through the wasteland, was a large construction staple. Jensen rolled over in the tussling and found it with his hands trussed behind his back. “It’s time for me to blow this popsicle stand,” Jensen thought to himself, “With or without my new Ninja amor.”
Everyone belonged to me at one point in time. Right down to the children, the teachers, the parents. They all believed in me and my words. My ability to write meant I wouldn’t be here forever, stuck with them in oblivion. And where am I now? They’ve all gone, took their beliefs with them, and I’m stuck here, stapled to the ground. Stapled to the past, where maybe I was interesting and interested but now I’m just old news.
only the things we need. we’re going to get what we need. nothing else. we except maybe a little of this. and oh yeah we’re out of that. we could really use one of these. check out time. how did we end up with so much stuff?? we only came to get staple items…. :/
My friend is deeply afraid of staplers. To help her out, I tried looking up the fear on the internet, to no avail. The internet told me that she should probably see a psychologist, but I know she’s not mentally insane…but now she definitely sounds mentally insane. Well, anyway, I just would like to know what that fear is, but it appears as though there isn’t a “phobia” laid out for it. *sigh*