The binding on that book had thinned down to nearly nothing. She had opened and closed and opened and closed and opened and closed it’s pages more than time itself. Yet somehow, no matter how many times she opened and closed that book, nothing changed. Only the creases on her skin became more deep and her eyes reflected sadness a little more each day. Her mouth became dry and her bones began to ache as if they were crying. I suppose that they cried for her now, now that all of them had been soaked into the tear stained pages of that book. It was all that she had of her life. She closed the book one last time. Then went to sleep and dreamed of everything and nothing.
I was constricted by my thoughts, my doubts. My throat squeezed onto my words and my tongue grew into a sliming snape, coiling its self to my teeth and cleaving to it. Words were trapped, but when i fought and pushed them out, they struggling and shook out like a person lifting weights too heavy for them
matt
no i dun want this. GIVE ME A NEW ONE. THIS ANGERS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KATE MAD, KATE SMASH. KATE EAT BUGS. I NEED A NEW WORD NOW…………………………………………………………………NOW……………………………………………………………………………NOW…………………………………………………………..NOW………………………………………………………………………….NOW……………………….
Kate
We feel like we’re bound for life; the words you say are a binding promise. Little inked love notes on graph paper, hidden. When i’m with you I believe in forevers.
The needle slipped in and out of the paper, binding to book together. The old man peered through his spectacles, glaring down harshly at the new book. It lay there innocently, gently looking back at him.
Kate
Binding me together, my house, my garden, my inner being all constricting my soul. What drama. What nuance. What boredom. How twisted this all is.
The bindings on her arms and feet were digging into the raw flesh with every breath and struggling against the twin scrapped the surface and dug into the skin more and more as time passed. She wondered if she would ever be found.
Amanda
This contract is binding: like a contract on my soul. The house, the garden, our whole life here interwoven and binding themsleves to each other in a perspiring fit of rage and vengeance. A home should be peaceful and happy and nurturing; not wan and soul-destroying.
Genna
Marriage is binding, bunting can be secured with binding. S & M features a lot of binding with Mr Christian Grey. Interesting word… Many things can be bound together by love or fixing or equipment, clearly! Strangely as an ex publishing employee the one thing I didn’t think of until the end of the minute was books!
Rachel
Today everything is associated with tears, heartbreaks and misery. Even the word binding. I don’t think I can explain why.
This feeling inside was binding. I have never felt this way before. How could I have gotten to this point? I was fine on my own, now I can’t imagine life without him. I’m not really sure how to get past this.
victoria torrez
amazing life make you wonder from your birth till your death. The solution, just live the moments.
unknown
There are many things in life that are binding, some things are good and some are not so good, I think for the most part the term “Binding” has a negative connotation because it leaves no room for escape, all in all the term is whatever the person using it thinks about, it leaves one with a decision to be bade before whatever the circumstance is that will soon become binding.
Robert
The weathered book’s binding held it firmly in place, a few forgotten, yellowed pages, slipping past the cover. You tuck a dog-ear in, a smile on your face. It is a book you have always held dear.
Kaylina
the art of attaching things together. the idea of keeping things in place. Not allowing something to grow due to holding it in place. not able to be changed.
Julie
There are pages of the story scattered everywhere. Was it even bound in the first place? I’m not sure.
We all have a handicap. The handicap is love. It binds our arms and legs, keeps us from doing anything logically. Love is the enemy of logic.
Isis
days where nothing ties me to land
shun the sun and shut the lights
curl up and drown in this watery bed
trade my lungs in for a slimy tail
swim down where i cannot be seen
i’ll grow teeth and glowing eyes
you cannot call a face this grotesque
human, you cannot unearth me
from these depths where even misery
was proven too afraid to tread.
Don’t let the world bind down on you with binding contracts meant to ensnare, enslave and direct your ever movement. Break free of those chains or submit to them. The choice is yours.
adfadf
The journal had obviously been sitting up here for quite some time. I found myself snorting out snootful of dust as I climbed up the ladder to the attic. The binding was badly worn, but as long as I could read the precious contents, all would be well.
Binding, what is it? A world of beckoning trying to bring me back the memoirs of war. Binding, I have been doing it for years now. Bind my notebooks, take me back to war. One day this place was what I always dreamed of. Take me please. I can’t seem to remember, everything is gone.
Alejandro Gutierrez
The agreement was binding. And so was the regret. Apparently, that’s all she knew at this point. She rethought the past three weeks and believed them to be a dream, a blur, an irrational state of being for the world as a whole. It did no good to dwell. What’s done was done, and a hundred other cliches and platitudes. She could only look ahead.
And there it is, that one fact that pulls us all towards one another, binding us together. It’s as easy as that. One tiny little word… L.O.V.E.
Blue
There are inevitably all sorts of bindings in our lives, in everyone’s life. We have to be related and sort of bidden to our mother, by the umbilical cord, and to our parents, under their looking after and caring. Then when the interactions between us and the world increase, we are bidden by different relationships, earning a living, emotional and physical actual needs, health …etc.
We are all bidden. People with actual or real freedom is who we call nuts or mad. Sad but True.
ifyouknowwhatimean
Magical.
Spell-casting.
Mirror.
Brute force.
Firm.
Holding down.
Power.
Three
Full moon.
Witch’s hour.
Black
Lance
gripping,strangling the fear of never being able to run through fields and down roads either safe or difficult because of being held down – lacerations on my wrists – the feeling of not knowing how to say the necessary words to let her know that I love her but can’t stay with her – the heartbreak of breakup – the saltwater tears running down cheeks of rose
Brandon
“The contract you’ve signed is completely binding, I hope you know.”
“Nobody said anything about binding.”
“It said so in the contract. Didn’t you read it?”
“It would probably help if I knew how to read, wouldn’t it?”
Ashley
broken arm. chains. legal contract. I’m bound to my family. Spanx and Ace Bandages. Reading The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck in 9th Grade.
These chains of sin are binding, like chains wrapped around my very soul. They hold me back, stop me from doing good; from doing anything. I need freedom, I need Jesus!
Zachary Williams
ropes , strings , bars , something , they are binding my soul . holding it all back from something better . how do i break these ties . how do i set myself free . it all needs to stop .
brittaknee
Air. When was the last time he actually breathed? Not that he choose not to. It’s just becoming too much of a ritual. Suffocating. Binding. But yet so addicting?
His arms were bound behind his back, but he struggled and used every ounce of his strength to escape. His muscles bulged but the rope gave no slack. He clenched his teeth. “You have no right to do this! I’ll stop you!” He yelled up to his captor. Yet his captor simply smiled. He then waved goodbye and disappeared out of the door, locking it behind him.
Laura Riddle
Tom drehte das Seil dreimal um die Säule, verknotete es fest und band es dem Mann um die Handgelenke. “Du wirst schon wissen, was du tust”, sagte der Alte und starrte in die Ferne. “Ich komme in ein paar Stunden wieder”, sagte Tom, und klopfte dem Mann auf die Schulter.
I walked into his office with my stomach in knots. “What can I do you?” He asked. My hands shook as I pulled the wrinkled papers from my purse and handed them to him. I need to know how binding this contract is.
sheila Good
Binding sounds so serious, like a binding agreement. I prefer to think of it as a coming together of sorts.
Renee
umm… i really dont know what to put for this one. My mind isnt working this morning .
Tatty
Binding can be the spine of a book or it can describe a legal contract.
In both cases there is a similar meaning of bringing things together permanently.
I like the idea of the future in the expression “bound to….”
The binding on that book had thinned down to nearly nothing. She had opened and closed and opened and closed and opened and closed it’s pages more than time itself. Yet somehow, no matter how many times she opened and closed that book, nothing changed. Only the creases on her skin became more deep and her eyes reflected sadness a little more each day. Her mouth became dry and her bones began to ache as if they were crying. I suppose that they cried for her now, now that all of them had been soaked into the tear stained pages of that book. It was all that she had of her life. She closed the book one last time. Then went to sleep and dreamed of everything and nothing.
I was constricted by my thoughts, my doubts. My throat squeezed onto my words and my tongue grew into a sliming snape, coiling its self to my teeth and cleaving to it. Words were trapped, but when i fought and pushed them out, they struggling and shook out like a person lifting weights too heavy for them
no i dun want this. GIVE ME A NEW ONE. THIS ANGERS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KATE MAD, KATE SMASH. KATE EAT BUGS. I NEED A NEW WORD NOW…………………………………………………………………NOW……………………………………………………………………………NOW…………………………………………………………..NOW………………………………………………………………………….NOW……………………….
We feel like we’re bound for life; the words you say are a binding promise. Little inked love notes on graph paper, hidden. When i’m with you I believe in forevers.
The needle slipped in and out of the paper, binding to book together. The old man peered through his spectacles, glaring down harshly at the new book. It lay there innocently, gently looking back at him.
Binding me together, my house, my garden, my inner being all constricting my soul. What drama. What nuance. What boredom. How twisted this all is.
The bindings on her arms and feet were digging into the raw flesh with every breath and struggling against the twin scrapped the surface and dug into the skin more and more as time passed. She wondered if she would ever be found.
This contract is binding: like a contract on my soul. The house, the garden, our whole life here interwoven and binding themsleves to each other in a perspiring fit of rage and vengeance. A home should be peaceful and happy and nurturing; not wan and soul-destroying.
Marriage is binding, bunting can be secured with binding. S & M features a lot of binding with Mr Christian Grey. Interesting word… Many things can be bound together by love or fixing or equipment, clearly! Strangely as an ex publishing employee the one thing I didn’t think of until the end of the minute was books!
Today everything is associated with tears, heartbreaks and misery. Even the word binding. I don’t think I can explain why.
This feeling inside was binding. I have never felt this way before. How could I have gotten to this point? I was fine on my own, now I can’t imagine life without him. I’m not really sure how to get past this.
amazing life make you wonder from your birth till your death. The solution, just live the moments.
There are many things in life that are binding, some things are good and some are not so good, I think for the most part the term “Binding” has a negative connotation because it leaves no room for escape, all in all the term is whatever the person using it thinks about, it leaves one with a decision to be bade before whatever the circumstance is that will soon become binding.
The weathered book’s binding held it firmly in place, a few forgotten, yellowed pages, slipping past the cover. You tuck a dog-ear in, a smile on your face. It is a book you have always held dear.
the art of attaching things together. the idea of keeping things in place. Not allowing something to grow due to holding it in place. not able to be changed.
There are pages of the story scattered everywhere. Was it even bound in the first place? I’m not sure.
We all have a handicap. The handicap is love. It binds our arms and legs, keeps us from doing anything logically. Love is the enemy of logic.
days where nothing ties me to land
shun the sun and shut the lights
curl up and drown in this watery bed
trade my lungs in for a slimy tail
swim down where i cannot be seen
i’ll grow teeth and glowing eyes
you cannot call a face this grotesque
human, you cannot unearth me
from these depths where even misery
was proven too afraid to tread.
Don’t let the world bind down on you with binding contracts meant to ensnare, enslave and direct your ever movement. Break free of those chains or submit to them. The choice is yours.
The journal had obviously been sitting up here for quite some time. I found myself snorting out snootful of dust as I climbed up the ladder to the attic. The binding was badly worn, but as long as I could read the precious contents, all would be well.
Binding, what is it? A world of beckoning trying to bring me back the memoirs of war. Binding, I have been doing it for years now. Bind my notebooks, take me back to war. One day this place was what I always dreamed of. Take me please. I can’t seem to remember, everything is gone.
The agreement was binding. And so was the regret. Apparently, that’s all she knew at this point. She rethought the past three weeks and believed them to be a dream, a blur, an irrational state of being for the world as a whole. It did no good to dwell. What’s done was done, and a hundred other cliches and platitudes. She could only look ahead.
And there it is, that one fact that pulls us all towards one another, binding us together. It’s as easy as that. One tiny little word… L.O.V.E.
There are inevitably all sorts of bindings in our lives, in everyone’s life. We have to be related and sort of bidden to our mother, by the umbilical cord, and to our parents, under their looking after and caring. Then when the interactions between us and the world increase, we are bidden by different relationships, earning a living, emotional and physical actual needs, health …etc.
We are all bidden. People with actual or real freedom is who we call nuts or mad. Sad but True.
Magical.
Spell-casting.
Mirror.
Brute force.
Firm.
Holding down.
Power.
Three
Full moon.
Witch’s hour.
Black
gripping,strangling the fear of never being able to run through fields and down roads either safe or difficult because of being held down – lacerations on my wrists – the feeling of not knowing how to say the necessary words to let her know that I love her but can’t stay with her – the heartbreak of breakup – the saltwater tears running down cheeks of rose
“The contract you’ve signed is completely binding, I hope you know.”
“Nobody said anything about binding.”
“It said so in the contract. Didn’t you read it?”
“It would probably help if I knew how to read, wouldn’t it?”
broken arm. chains. legal contract. I’m bound to my family. Spanx and Ace Bandages. Reading The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck in 9th Grade.
These chains of sin are binding, like chains wrapped around my very soul. They hold me back, stop me from doing good; from doing anything. I need freedom, I need Jesus!
ropes , strings , bars , something , they are binding my soul . holding it all back from something better . how do i break these ties . how do i set myself free . it all needs to stop .
Air. When was the last time he actually breathed? Not that he choose not to. It’s just becoming too much of a ritual. Suffocating. Binding. But yet so addicting?
pine needles covered the earth around the large wooden cabin. The book that an aging woman held was wearing down over the years.
Binding as in a binding contract. Like marraige, or phone company contract, or even a budget.
His arms were bound behind his back, but he struggled and used every ounce of his strength to escape. His muscles bulged but the rope gave no slack. He clenched his teeth. “You have no right to do this! I’ll stop you!” He yelled up to his captor. Yet his captor simply smiled. He then waved goodbye and disappeared out of the door, locking it behind him.
Tom drehte das Seil dreimal um die Säule, verknotete es fest und band es dem Mann um die Handgelenke. “Du wirst schon wissen, was du tust”, sagte der Alte und starrte in die Ferne. “Ich komme in ein paar Stunden wieder”, sagte Tom, und klopfte dem Mann auf die Schulter.
On the floor, the twine lay like dead snakes with no orifices. He kept wondering if at one point in time the same rope hadn’t been so limp.
I walked into his office with my stomach in knots. “What can I do you?” He asked. My hands shook as I pulled the wrinkled papers from my purse and handed them to him. I need to know how binding this contract is.
Binding sounds so serious, like a binding agreement. I prefer to think of it as a coming together of sorts.
umm… i really dont know what to put for this one. My mind isnt working this morning .
Binding can be the spine of a book or it can describe a legal contract.
In both cases there is a similar meaning of bringing things together permanently.
I like the idea of the future in the expression “bound to….”