There’s a cut in my head that I have sewn together with thread. It’s supposed to dissolve in two weeks. Dissolving thread. I wonder if it will dissolve into the air…into my bloodstream? Disappearing thread. Houdini thread.
The thread of her dress got caught on the tree as she ran; how cliche. She ripped it free and continued to run. From what, you ask? Everything. The world. She was running from this, that, everything, and nothing. She just knew she needed to be free and to be free, she needed to run. Run as fast as she could. She needed to run and never look back.
threads make up fashion. fashion is how we express ourselves. i think that thread is sort of loving, that it makes you think about whoever put what covers your naked body together. someone somewhere took the time to make it and we never even think about it. its so lonely, thread, so skinny and helpless. it wants somebody to love it. thread.
Thread reminds me of my mother. My mother used to sew me clothes growing up. She loved it and I always had the cutest sundresses.. Mind you, Im 19 years old and that made me one of few with home made clothes in school in the late 90’a. But It was awesome and spawned my love for hippies and crafty like vintage/retro things. :)
Oh and that thread she was hanging by became a little less promising everyday. It was fraying and breaking under the unbearable weight of her unmistakable mistakes. The hole was too deep, and the thread was too thin. There was nothing to do but wait until someone to lend her a helping hand, but by the looks of things it wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Wit ha thread and a needle, I sewed the pocket back onto the shirt and it was just like new. Thanks, the child said, taking her repaired clothing back. Thanks.
Magical lines of imagery that lead oneself to think about life and everything that hold’s one future. It is something that can fly through time and space and never die.
Life leads me along, as if I am merely the end of a piece of thread… so light, so long, waving in the wind. Easily broken, frayed… Unable to accomplish much on my own.
The thread pulled slowly form the garment. With each step she took her clothes continued to unwind. After about six steps she was yanked to a halt. She could go on no longer.
smooth, soft, bristles, all touching. thin movements, the wind decorates this, as thickness is endeavored, in a deep hole, that the earth has created, thread
of string, or on a forum, or broken pants. And maybe… thought, like a thread of thought. Or some spiritual type of thing, like threads that hold us together.. like, the thread of life from hercules. something thin, long (or short) and smooth, or er, silky, if its a silk thread.
thread. she was hanging by a thread and if it snapped, i would lose her. She would be gone. I saw her eyes, they were large and curious. I could sense her in every way. I felt her going. She slipped. I woke up. My hands were shaking, I felt the threads in my bed sheets and sung myself to sleep.
Threads are often found in the home of somebody who enjoys sewing, knitting, or crocheting. Thread would not be found in my home because I do not pursue in any of those activities. Thread comes in many different colors, which can be helpful when knitting and crocheting gifts for other people.
i sew with thread. thread my life together, piece by piece. read is in the word thread. i should read more. thread is yarn on a diet. my mom can sew really well. i’m not that crafty, but hopefully i can learn soon. thread, the three fates had thread in their hands. those amateurs.
The thread is the center of life. All of life branches off of your thread. It take a lot to break the thread of life and it also takes a few threads to make it stronger. thread is life. thread is strong, thread is also weak, thread can use help sometimes.
Yanking at my skin in the mirror each piece of me felt like a mistake, sewed together by a lucid thread, unsure of its direction. What could anyone ever see that was beautiful behind my murky eyes?
Life is held by a thread. The onldest Cliche in the book. I used to never consider this truly inspiring until Hercueles the Disney movie. Then I got the idea..All life is held by a thread but it is up to us to strengthen our own threads. those who choose to choose to live life and be inspired by it.
I felt the wind whip my hair around me. The dying sun lighted his face and I felt the urge to kiss him. The coolness of the air around me tickled me through my simple clothes made of thin thread, and he wrapped his arms around me.
The thread of my thoughts had come to an end, when I felt completely empty. There wasn’t even static left behind. Only emptiness. Someone asked before if silence had a sound. It doesn’t.
A single thread hung off my shirt. Just a single thread that made my otherwise new outfit look tattered and unkempt. A quick pull to rid myself of the problem only made it worse.
A thread can hold something together. A shirt is held together by many threads, but if one thread is broken many others can come unraveled. It is also a great metaphor for many aspects of life. The fates in Greek mythology used threads to symbolize a person’s life. This showed ow fragile life was, that it could be cut by a single pair of scissors. Threads weave like people do, through life, relationships, places, and emotions.
hair weave. sew it up, down, through, around. consistency. an effortless pattern. connection. the read between the lines. the ties that bond. a connection. a thin line but strong connection. nimble strand that holds big things together.
If I had but a thread of luck, maybe things would be better, even a small sliver to hold me up would be fine. However, I’ve already fallen into the pit, already dived head-first right into a canyon where the darkness stretches for centuries. I got myself into this mess the day I was born, but because I had no life-thread, there was no way I could escape it alone.
Here life was become a frayed thread; the situation was already very thin, but now it was spiralling out of control. Soon, everything would be ruined and she’d be left with nothing but the pieces that held everything together, now torn apart. Her parents were getting a divorce, her brother in prison, her best friend caught up in the dope business. Where did that leave her?
a thread is a piece of string that helps hold together clothes. It is put through a sewing needle and knotted. You weave it in and out of cloth in order to h
the needle that pulled the thread was no ordinary needle, no ordinary needle held by no ordinary hand. The fabrics pulled and buttons laced were numerous, though this could be said of many needles, there was a story behind each individual stitch.
thread. hold together. weave through my life. simple. fragile. important. once you break it, every thing comes unraveled. the weave breaks. nothing holds together any more. broken threads.
The red piece of thread hung off the back of her dress. She didn’t seem to notice or care, but it irked me to no end. I wondered if she would notice if I went up behind her and tried to get rid of it. But how? She’d definitely realize if I yanked it. I guess it was my best bet to leave it be. Leave her be. For good this time.
A thread? Um…. black. white red. different colours…. different lengths.
skinny long short bright blue dull used to stitch things, used to fix things make pants shorter hem dresses… get loose get caught get annoying.
She pulled awkwardly at the loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket. She didn’t know what to make of things; she was thinking too much, again. No matter how much she thought it wouldn’t change things, so why wasn’t it easier to turn off her brain? She had nothing to focus, and so she continued to pick at the thread, just hoping no one would notice.
a thread. needle and thread. they go together like peanut butter and jelly. weaving threw a piece of cloth. it’s like life, going up and down, in and out, and around the corner. you never know how hard the next weave is going to be.
i already wrote about thread. i can do better than this. but it got lost. i guess were all lost. maybe i should have used some thread to help me find my way. thread it all together, eh?
the start of a never ending project that eventually tangles itself into a helpless ball and leaves to fix its mess for centuries until you finally bore yourself with the idea of a sewn garment that will never be just as perfect as you dreamed it would be.
thread. it sews together life and clothes. old women usually use it and abuse it till theres nothing left of it. the three fates in Greek myths cut it when a persons life is about to end. anyone else is using it to save lives to make sweaters for people who are cold and it helps keep them warm
There’s a cut in my head that I have sewn together with thread. It’s supposed to dissolve in two weeks. Dissolving thread. I wonder if it will dissolve into the air…into my bloodstream? Disappearing thread. Houdini thread.
Treading through the woods like a piece of tread going through a needle, precise and carefully, trying to make it through in one shot.
The thread of her dress got caught on the tree as she ran; how cliche. She ripped it free and continued to run. From what, you ask? Everything. The world. She was running from this, that, everything, and nothing. She just knew she needed to be free and to be free, she needed to run. Run as fast as she could. She needed to run and never look back.
threads make up fashion. fashion is how we express ourselves. i think that thread is sort of loving, that it makes you think about whoever put what covers your naked body together. someone somewhere took the time to make it and we never even think about it. its so lonely, thread, so skinny and helpless. it wants somebody to love it. thread.
Thread reminds me of my mother. My mother used to sew me clothes growing up. She loved it and I always had the cutest sundresses.. Mind you, Im 19 years old and that made me one of few with home made clothes in school in the late 90’a. But It was awesome and spawned my love for hippies and crafty like vintage/retro things. :)
Oh and that thread she was hanging by became a little less promising everyday. It was fraying and breaking under the unbearable weight of her unmistakable mistakes. The hole was too deep, and the thread was too thin. There was nothing to do but wait until someone to lend her a helping hand, but by the looks of things it wasn’t happening anytime soon.
I’m sorry…
Wit ha thread and a needle, I sewed the pocket back onto the shirt and it was just like new. Thanks, the child said, taking her repaired clothing back. Thanks.
El hilo is used for realized many clothes, since baby clothes until adult cloths, quickly
Magical lines of imagery that lead oneself to think about life and everything that hold’s one future. It is something that can fly through time and space and never die.
Life leads me along, as if I am merely the end of a piece of thread… so light, so long, waving in the wind. Easily broken, frayed… Unable to accomplish much on my own.
The thread pulled slowly form the garment. With each step she took her clothes continued to unwind. After about six steps she was yanked to a halt. She could go on no longer.
smooth, soft, bristles, all touching. thin movements, the wind decorates this, as thickness is endeavored, in a deep hole, that the earth has created, thread
of string, or on a forum, or broken pants. And maybe… thought, like a thread of thought. Or some spiritual type of thing, like threads that hold us together.. like, the thread of life from hercules. something thin, long (or short) and smooth, or er, silky, if its a silk thread.
thread. she was hanging by a thread and if it snapped, i would lose her. She would be gone. I saw her eyes, they were large and curious. I could sense her in every way. I felt her going. She slipped. I woke up. My hands were shaking, I felt the threads in my bed sheets and sung myself to sleep.
Threads are often found in the home of somebody who enjoys sewing, knitting, or crocheting. Thread would not be found in my home because I do not pursue in any of those activities. Thread comes in many different colors, which can be helpful when knitting and crocheting gifts for other people.
i sew with thread. thread my life together, piece by piece. read is in the word thread. i should read more. thread is yarn on a diet. my mom can sew really well. i’m not that crafty, but hopefully i can learn soon. thread, the three fates had thread in their hands. those amateurs.
Things I think about when I see the word “thread”. Hmmmm needles because I really can’t thread them anymore!
The thread is the center of life. All of life branches off of your thread. It take a lot to break the thread of life and it also takes a few threads to make it stronger. thread is life. thread is strong, thread is also weak, thread can use help sometimes.
Yanking at my skin in the mirror each piece of me felt like a mistake, sewed together by a lucid thread, unsure of its direction. What could anyone ever see that was beautiful behind my murky eyes?
Life is held by a thread. The onldest Cliche in the book. I used to never consider this truly inspiring until Hercueles the Disney movie. Then I got the idea..All life is held by a thread but it is up to us to strengthen our own threads. those who choose to choose to live life and be inspired by it.
I felt the wind whip my hair around me. The dying sun lighted his face and I felt the urge to kiss him. The coolness of the air around me tickled me through my simple clothes made of thin thread, and he wrapped his arms around me.
The thread of my thoughts had come to an end, when I felt completely empty. There wasn’t even static left behind. Only emptiness. Someone asked before if silence had a sound. It doesn’t.
A single thread hung off my shirt. Just a single thread that made my otherwise new outfit look tattered and unkempt. A quick pull to rid myself of the problem only made it worse.
A thread can hold something together. A shirt is held together by many threads, but if one thread is broken many others can come unraveled. It is also a great metaphor for many aspects of life. The fates in Greek mythology used threads to symbolize a person’s life. This showed ow fragile life was, that it could be cut by a single pair of scissors. Threads weave like people do, through life, relationships, places, and emotions.
Our relationship was held together, like a thread of yarn. We were managing, but we were slowly coming apart. Just wearing away.
hair weave. sew it up, down, through, around. consistency. an effortless pattern. connection. the read between the lines. the ties that bond. a connection. a thin line but strong connection. nimble strand that holds big things together.
If I had but a thread of luck, maybe things would be better, even a small sliver to hold me up would be fine. However, I’ve already fallen into the pit, already dived head-first right into a canyon where the darkness stretches for centuries. I got myself into this mess the day I was born, but because I had no life-thread, there was no way I could escape it alone.
Here life was become a frayed thread; the situation was already very thin, but now it was spiralling out of control. Soon, everything would be ruined and she’d be left with nothing but the pieces that held everything together, now torn apart. Her parents were getting a divorce, her brother in prison, her best friend caught up in the dope business. Where did that leave her?
a thread is a piece of string that helps hold together clothes. It is put through a sewing needle and knotted. You weave it in and out of cloth in order to h
the needle that pulled the thread was no ordinary needle, no ordinary needle held by no ordinary hand. The fabrics pulled and buttons laced were numerous, though this could be said of many needles, there was a story behind each individual stitch.
thread. hold together. weave through my life. simple. fragile. important. once you break it, every thing comes unraveled. the weave breaks. nothing holds together any more. broken threads.
The red piece of thread hung off the back of her dress. She didn’t seem to notice or care, but it irked me to no end. I wondered if she would notice if I went up behind her and tried to get rid of it. But how? She’d definitely realize if I yanked it. I guess it was my best bet to leave it be. Leave her be. For good this time.
A thread? Um…. black. white red. different colours…. different lengths.
skinny long short bright blue dull used to stitch things, used to fix things make pants shorter hem dresses… get loose get caught get annoying.
She pulled awkwardly at the loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket. She didn’t know what to make of things; she was thinking too much, again. No matter how much she thought it wouldn’t change things, so why wasn’t it easier to turn off her brain? She had nothing to focus, and so she continued to pick at the thread, just hoping no one would notice.
sewing togetherness, hanging on by a, reached the end of your rope, forums and school, my nose itches , her laugh is too cute , needing stitches
a thread. needle and thread. they go together like peanut butter and jelly. weaving threw a piece of cloth. it’s like life, going up and down, in and out, and around the corner. you never know how hard the next weave is going to be.
Your life hangs by the thread of all those around you. You choose whether you cut it, or hold on to it for as long as you can. The choice is yours.
i already wrote about thread. i can do better than this. but it got lost. i guess were all lost. maybe i should have used some thread to help me find my way. thread it all together, eh?
the start of a never ending project that eventually tangles itself into a helpless ball and leaves to fix its mess for centuries until you finally bore yourself with the idea of a sewn garment that will never be just as perfect as you dreamed it would be.
thread. it sews together life and clothes. old women usually use it and abuse it till theres nothing left of it. the three fates in Greek myths cut it when a persons life is about to end. anyone else is using it to save lives to make sweaters for people who are cold and it helps keep them warm