texture of life is somewhere between runny eggs and silk-soft hair–impossible to describe fully, but suffice to say that there is no possible scenario in which there is neither disgust nor utter joy at the touch of life. telling me that there is nothing out there for me does not dissuade. rather, it encourages me to find something and spite you once and for all [texture of spite: sweet, sweet, sharpicysteel]
I felt him through his clothes. His skin was smooth and rubbed sweetly onto mine. I never felt like that before. It dragged me down into a place I wasn’t sure of– a place I’ve never been. I felt it into my bones.
feet were rough
knees were knobby
Thighs were buff
though the hips ropey
the stomach was flat
the chest pumped
but the neck was crap
and the head was a lump
The texture of her heart was barren; nothing light had landed on it for years. There were scars, holes, and graves of the things that she once loved. Because the things she loved always seemed to betray her in the end. And the scars showed.
Optimus Prime ran his digits across the smooth portion of the jets blue fore servo, the shiny wax detail that Starscream had applied made his paint job shine.
I took off the lid and my hand dove inside. I felt a smooth roughness, if that made sense, followed by level buttons of the most creamiest and delicate substance that made my taste buds dance and euphoria trickle into my nervous system.
I grasped the object very tightly around my fingers and took a small nibble.
Utter bliss.
texture is an odd word. We use it primarily for describing tangible things; things we can touch. Anything we feel with our sense of touch, we can attach a texture to it. Why not use this same idea for ideas and feelings? Emotions, if you will.
The texture of his skin was smooth, soft. I loved it. “Dawn, I love you.” He breathed into my ear. He kissed my temple the soft lips brushing it briefly.
Sunday morning and the light woke me, finally. Sitting here in front of the computer, awake, I feel the texture of the day slowly infiltrating, drawing me into the world. As words fall in to sentences, a dog barks somewhere and the colours of the leaves start to drift and weave in the canopy in a slight breeze. The sun warms me here. The words are gentle this morning, the spaces between them friendly. Pillows of cloud let light shine through. Today there will be time for good coffee and work.
bare feet like to walk on texture not spiky or hard or sharp or hot or splintery
we like spongy and soft grass and sand and even smooth mucky mud
we like cool we like wet we like soft we like bounce
we like rebound we like looseness we like free
we like fleecy comfort
we even sometimes like a crumbly hard road when we’re itchy
we
texture means what you feel when you touch something. ı think touching is important for human. because when we see something different we want to toucht afterwards
She bought a shirt with lace clinging to the shoulders and found that she hated the way it draped in the mirror. The color was pointed beneath her ears and it gathered unattractively at her hips.
His eyes, like the wind, blew by me in a gentle rustle. Her hands, a rocking ocean, cool and deep and welcoming. His hair, gravel, which shredded my legs when I fell off my bike.
that feeling when you’re touching something and it’s bumpy, smooth, or scaly or anything in between. It could be nice, or it could feel ugly. It’s just the feeling of what something looks like, you know? When you’re looking at something, and you think “Hey, that looks bumpy” and you touch it, and it feels bumpy. Texture. Feeling what you’re looking at.
the texture of the zebra blanket is the best. it is soft and thick and although it is a small, individual blanket, it definitely keeps you warm and comfortable. The texture of the pillow, on the other hand, is not as nice. It is stuffed with feathers so it pokes you.
As I lay my hands across his body I got the most wonderful feeling in the world: the feeling of being loved and having someone to love. I couldn’t even imagine a greater feeling. He kissed my lips softly and whispered, “I love you, my darling.”
The texture of her hair was frizzy and curly. Her hair had a mind of its own. He let out a faint chuckle as he tried to comb through it. “I’m sorry, kid,” he said under his breath as he pulled down the comb down her hair, “but this is going to hurt.” He yanked down the comb and the little girl let out a big yelp.
the texture of your hair, the way it glides through my fingers. the musty, familiar smell of your skin, pressed against mine. in this moment, we could be perfection.
Texture is something that is a part of the illusion we live in. It’s only an illusion that we feel it there. In all honesty, nothing is there in the first place. It all comes from your own mind and its up to you to eventually wake up to it. Although its hard to really awaken and truly see and realize this. Some day you might. Maybe you wont.
fuzzy the way it feels how do you like it, it might be smooth it might be really awesome feeling might give you shivers soft fuzzy fuzzy and strange rocky hard slate like really texturized really liquidy melty strange goopy gassy strange really incredibly plasticy ridgidy watery.
The texture of sand is something incredible. It’s like a natural exfoliator that removes every dead skin cell from your feet, leaving an ultra soft foot. I like the texture of cake in my mouth.
TEXTURE…..well texture is of many. Texture…is soft, hard, course, rough, abrasive hairy, velvety, smooth, prickly, fuzzy, slimy, itchy, slippery, gooey, tacky, leathery, rubbery, straw-like, stringy, stretchy, thick, thin, creamy, syrupy, soupy, watery, warm, cold, frozen, moist, boiling, bubbley, foamy, etc.
In just about ANYTHING & EVERYTHING…..will you be sure to find
TEXTURE!!!.
And TEXTURE….Ya TEXTURE…..Not only does it catch your eye….but can also ignite certain Feelings &/or Emotions.
May your day be blessed with TEXTURE!
the feel of something the way it absorbs in your mouth the way your finger tips run against it. weather it is wood or whatever. maybe your shirt has a hole in it. or your boyfriend has a scar. it’s the way we see the world only it’s through our finger tips. touching twirling in circles outlining details and the like.
The texture of the pop tarts was unique and soft. The icing on top was a little crunchy but after a minute of chewing it started to melt inside of my mouth. It was delicious.
I just sat there feeling this texture of uncertainty. My mind is racing thoughts of insincerity. My fingertips jolt at the sight, the touch, the smell of…
You can see color. You can see lines and shadows and contour. But you FEEL texture. Your fingers brush the soft, or ragged, or worn fabric, and you FEEL what lies beneath.
Some of the most important things in life can’t be seen, only felt.
Texture is the feeling of something that the sense of touch can experience. Texture can be rough, soft, hard, jagged, tough, gritty, cuddly and more. Every holdable objection has a texture to it and can be sense via touching it.
texture has a feel; it has a pattern. it’s a word worth a lot of points in words with friends if you can get the x on a TL and the whole word on a TW square. I don’t like the texture of bananas as I chew them, so I don’t
texture of life is somewhere between runny eggs and silk-soft hair–impossible to describe fully, but suffice to say that there is no possible scenario in which there is neither disgust nor utter joy at the touch of life. telling me that there is nothing out there for me does not dissuade. rather, it encourages me to find something and spite you once and for all [texture of spite: sweet, sweet, sharpicysteel]
I felt him through his clothes. His skin was smooth and rubbed sweetly onto mine. I never felt like that before. It dragged me down into a place I wasn’t sure of– a place I’ve never been. I felt it into my bones.
feet were rough
knees were knobby
Thighs were buff
though the hips ropey
the stomach was flat
the chest pumped
but the neck was crap
and the head was a lump
The texture of her heart was barren; nothing light had landed on it for years. There were scars, holes, and graves of the things that she once loved. Because the things she loved always seemed to betray her in the end. And the scars showed.
Optimus Prime ran his digits across the smooth portion of the jets blue fore servo, the shiny wax detail that Starscream had applied made his paint job shine.
I took off the lid and my hand dove inside. I felt a smooth roughness, if that made sense, followed by level buttons of the most creamiest and delicate substance that made my taste buds dance and euphoria trickle into my nervous system.
I grasped the object very tightly around my fingers and took a small nibble.
Utter bliss.
The texture of the carpet was so comforting. Susie couldn’t get herself to come off of it. Maybe she took too much acid.
The wripples rose and fell underneath the gentle touch of her hand. She took a deep breath in; sighed; and left.
texture is an odd word. We use it primarily for describing tangible things; things we can touch. Anything we feel with our sense of touch, we can attach a texture to it. Why not use this same idea for ideas and feelings? Emotions, if you will.
The texture of his skin was smooth, soft. I loved it. “Dawn, I love you.” He breathed into my ear. He kissed my temple the soft lips brushing it briefly.
rough, bumpy, smooth, fuzzy, soft, fluffy, jagged, silky, bumpy, wet, grainy, glassy, hard,
Sunday morning and the light woke me, finally. Sitting here in front of the computer, awake, I feel the texture of the day slowly infiltrating, drawing me into the world. As words fall in to sentences, a dog barks somewhere and the colours of the leaves start to drift and weave in the canopy in a slight breeze. The sun warms me here. The words are gentle this morning, the spaces between them friendly. Pillows of cloud let light shine through. Today there will be time for good coffee and work.
bare feet like to walk on texture not spiky or hard or sharp or hot or splintery
we like spongy and soft grass and sand and even smooth mucky mud
we like cool we like wet we like soft we like bounce
we like rebound we like looseness we like free
we like fleecy comfort
we even sometimes like a crumbly hard road when we’re itchy
we
texture means what you feel when you touch something. ı think touching is important for human. because when we see something different we want to toucht afterwards
She bought a shirt with lace clinging to the shoulders and found that she hated the way it draped in the mirror. The color was pointed beneath her ears and it gathered unattractively at her hips.
His eyes, like the wind, blew by me in a gentle rustle. Her hands, a rocking ocean, cool and deep and welcoming. His hair, gravel, which shredded my legs when I fell off my bike.
to describe the moment
after waiting on so long
and having waited
the air was thick
the conversation ripe
and all was well
and it will be remembered
a moment
thick
with texture
that feeling when you’re touching something and it’s bumpy, smooth, or scaly or anything in between. It could be nice, or it could feel ugly. It’s just the feeling of what something looks like, you know? When you’re looking at something, and you think “Hey, that looks bumpy” and you touch it, and it feels bumpy. Texture. Feeling what you’re looking at.
the texture of the zebra blanket is the best. it is soft and thick and although it is a small, individual blanket, it definitely keeps you warm and comfortable. The texture of the pillow, on the other hand, is not as nice. It is stuffed with feathers so it pokes you.
As I lay my hands across his body I got the most wonderful feeling in the world: the feeling of being loved and having someone to love. I couldn’t even imagine a greater feeling. He kissed my lips softly and whispered, “I love you, my darling.”
Looks like words, but is instead the look and feel of all outsides. text is inside. texture is outside. The x in texture: It seems like crossroads.
The texture of her hair was frizzy and curly. Her hair had a mind of its own. He let out a faint chuckle as he tried to comb through it. “I’m sorry, kid,” he said under his breath as he pulled down the comb down her hair, “but this is going to hurt.” He yanked down the comb and the little girl let out a big yelp.
the texture of your hair, the way it glides through my fingers. the musty, familiar smell of your skin, pressed against mine. in this moment, we could be perfection.
The texture makes her feel full of grace and beauty for the very first time.
I like the texture of velvet.
Texture is something that is a part of the illusion we live in. It’s only an illusion that we feel it there. In all honesty, nothing is there in the first place. It all comes from your own mind and its up to you to eventually wake up to it. Although its hard to really awaken and truly see and realize this. Some day you might. Maybe you wont.
fuzzy the way it feels how do you like it, it might be smooth it might be really awesome feeling might give you shivers soft fuzzy fuzzy and strange rocky hard slate like really texturized really liquidy melty strange goopy gassy strange really incredibly plasticy ridgidy watery.
The texture of sand is something incredible. It’s like a natural exfoliator that removes every dead skin cell from your feet, leaving an ultra soft foot. I like the texture of cake in my mouth.
TEXTURE…..well texture is of many. Texture…is soft, hard, course, rough, abrasive hairy, velvety, smooth, prickly, fuzzy, slimy, itchy, slippery, gooey, tacky, leathery, rubbery, straw-like, stringy, stretchy, thick, thin, creamy, syrupy, soupy, watery, warm, cold, frozen, moist, boiling, bubbley, foamy, etc.
In just about ANYTHING & EVERYTHING…..will you be sure to find
TEXTURE!!!.
And TEXTURE….Ya TEXTURE…..Not only does it catch your eye….but can also ignite certain Feelings &/or Emotions.
May your day be blessed with TEXTURE!
the feel of something the way it absorbs in your mouth the way your finger tips run against it. weather it is wood or whatever. maybe your shirt has a hole in it. or your boyfriend has a scar. it’s the way we see the world only it’s through our finger tips. touching twirling in circles outlining details and the like.
The texture of his lips calmed my racing heart- I wasn’t in danger anymore. He would protect me from anything and everything.
I don’t like this word. :(
The texture of the flower was unmistakable- this rose was from David. How? He was dead. I had seen him die.
shirts, blankets.. reminds me of a cabin in the forest or something like that.. log cabin.. idk im weird.
incredible softness touch delight ever like velvet
The texture of the pop tarts was unique and soft. The icing on top was a little crunchy but after a minute of chewing it started to melt inside of my mouth. It was delicious.
I just sat there feeling this texture of uncertainty. My mind is racing thoughts of insincerity. My fingertips jolt at the sight, the touch, the smell of…
You can see color. You can see lines and shadows and contour. But you FEEL texture. Your fingers brush the soft, or ragged, or worn fabric, and you FEEL what lies beneath.
Some of the most important things in life can’t be seen, only felt.
Texture is the feeling of something that the sense of touch can experience. Texture can be rough, soft, hard, jagged, tough, gritty, cuddly and more. Every holdable objection has a texture to it and can be sense via touching it.
texture has a feel; it has a pattern. it’s a word worth a lot of points in words with friends if you can get the x on a TL and the whole word on a TW square. I don’t like the texture of bananas as I chew them, so I don’t