Frantic as Raskolnikov’s second kill, similar too is my opinion to myself. Oh how the sands fall and the hour-glass grows thin. If only fate would have a sign, to sit and bide my time or wallow in a bit of shame and arrive to class without any knowledge of this week. Surely I was blasted off my bedsheets in this heightened state, with good reason at this crossroads there is no other way to describe my entrance.
Someone blasted what sound like dynamite in the area where we were staying. I could not believe that we would be confronted by such an cowardly act so soon, after a truce were call, and peace once more appeared to be returning to our village.
I was blasted by the heat of the thermos and I was wondering if there was any way I could reduce the temperature. When I saw the dial to increase the temp, I used it to make myself feel better and calmer.
Thanks
Kreety
breaking open. violently. extreme pressure forced into a concentrated point. there is now with holding from it. you are easily moved by its extreme force.
Jake Best
He blasted the tops off of mountains and so we blasted his behind out of the Senate. Answer: Mitch McConnell
In short, he was so half-blasted that we couldn’t get the blasted truth out of him.
Maryam Louise
Dawn blasted out of the mist towards her, swinging her in a big motion up and out of the swing like a jet rocket and plummeting to the ground. Brenda looked up. Dawn menaced down on her.
Ashley
blasting paint onto the wall while he watched her do so. This is what they did everyday all day. Their passion was to blast paint in houses all the time helping their friends get the painting in their homes done. Even at night they blasted.
Shauni
The last notes lingered in the air and everyone was speechless, admiring the beauty that they just heard. There was a moment when no one spoke, and it was as if everyone was stuck in their minds, without a care for anything else. That’s why when it happened, they didn’t even get to throw their hands over their heads.
Before they knew it, the orchestra was blasted to pieces.
call me weak, but hell, I lated this long. maybe it was all in my head, maybe it was avoidable, curable, maybe it just needed some attention. I never got that kind of attention, you know, the kind that focuses on my stability, on my wellness and happiness and aspirations. nobody questioned my motives or my interests beyond their existence, and nobody cared to wonder at all. I don’t blame anyone but myself. some people were just meant to be alone, and some of those people can’t stand to be alone for so long. if you find me blasted against a wall or in the comfort of my bathtub, don’t be alarmed. it was bound to happen some time.
like a landmine their reaches to reality were blasted away by the condescending lines to forever and above; what should have been wasn’t and what was shouldn’t have been. clambering to the top of discernment, she leaped for a thread of intrinsic perception through the undeniable declination of pure train of thought. the synopsis of life expected was obliterated within the spoken word of these inebriated concepts. welcome to the land mine.
I see this word and I think of anger. Or perhaps an explosion. I am unsure of what else. I think perhaps it’s what English people say when they are angry. That thought amuses me. The timer started over so I suppose I must write more, this is cheating. It is letting me continue to write so maybe I can do this over and over. Then I can submit it and everyone will think I can write very fast. I wonder how many times it will let me do this.
Bri
I HAVE SEEN THAT DAY A BLASTED CAR. IT WAS FULLY DAMAGED AND SHOCK TO SAW IT. THE DRIVER WA SDEAD ON THE SPOT. IT WAS HORRIBLE SECENE
sourabh batra
Sounds like those brits describing something frustrating. Those blasted wonkers! Why dont americans have cool words..?
Zachary
KAPOW! And off it went, the spaceship blasted through space at the speed of light. Never before had the world seen such a mode of extreme transportation. This was the dawn of a new era. What would come next…
Katelyn
Blasted away. The shot carried through his ears for what felt like centuries. He fell to his knees. The gun hit the floor. His brains on the wall. His blood staining the carpet. No more pain.
As the band were preparing for their performance, the audience bustled into the theatre, chattering eagerly.
Meanwhile somewhere in the crowd, two children were fighting over a rubber band, gradually becoming a tug of war. BANG! The band blasted into the hard, wooden walls and terrified the crowd. Screams filled the room and everyone was glaring at the band flying rapidly across the place. It landed on a lady’s face as she face-planted onto the floor. Quiet murmurs soon overcame the screams and a man’s voice called,
“Doctor!”
Tethers wither as the goal crystallizes.
Force is to punch as blasted is to broken water system.
This is what it means to explore.
Making sense of the meaninglessness.
Destruction to creation and back again.
And for what, to placate the super ego?
Our heroes, forever fighting our devilish Ids.
Blasted plaster!
Another drop dripped
Sinking into the carpet
Making its mark on my home
Building a memory I don’t want here
Of the time I had to build this home, alone
Clueless, spilling, and splattering
Lost and unsure
Not one more blasted drop of plaster no!
this blasted cursor keeps blinking at me incessantly. almost as if mocking my mental impotence. it’s been this way for weeks now. the only thing stopping me from smashing the screen is the knowledge that in my extreme poverty i would never be able to afford a new one. blast!
That night started on the stairs going down a slope between buildings somewhere after Cihangir where you could see the black water, the moon and the hill beyond. All the lights eye could see; the houses, lamps, the moon, the glitter on the water were identical orange sparks, blasted off of some explosion frozen mid air as if somebody just stopped the frame. But life was flowing at it’s usual pace with all the sparks hanging around us. All I remember hearing was the soft conversations humming between the people, crowding the stairs and the grassy slope. I became one of the voices and my cigarette joined the sparks. I was her raging ego.
oz
this blasted cursor keeps blinking at me incessantly… almost as if it is mocking my mental impotence. it’s been like this for weeks now. the only thing that keeps me from smashing the screen is the knowledge that poverty would prevent me from getting a new one.
Leroy Mthulisi Ndlovu
Oh, they said set it off.
I watched, I was blasted.
Why? Because it was the en vougue thing to do.
How was I to know.
That the myth was what made the legend.
If only I hadn’t had a hand in writing it.
Naming It
The sight of a building being blasted away by the demolition crews was an incredible sight. the towering block of concrete came crashing down in rush of debris and dust.
Venkat
Everyone were having a nice time. Its always fun to celebrate a new year with a glass of beer. But for Jack it was more than a party. He was behaving indecently with young women and was not able to control himself. He was blasted off from the party and the organisers made sure not to invite him in any future parties.
travellerinmotion
and so he put his headphones on thinking that he had turned the music off before he had gone into the arcade. but his delicate ears got blasted by heavy metal music, so loud that the insides of his ears ached. now, he has learned his lesson. don’t listen to heavy metal.
Shannen
i got blasted on the weekend. blasted with glass. The glass on the animals cage suddenly shattered, leaving me with cuts across my face and other people frantically running as the reptiles slithered towards them.
helen golga
The cannon blasted it’s projectile with fiery force.
“Look out!” cried a sailor from the other ship
“Fire again!” cried the captian
Jessie M.
If I had a blasted hammer, I’d damn well blast it in the evening and all over this dag blasted land! Now I gotta think of more dang blasted humorous(less) comments to blast my insane brain into submission.
the rocket blasted up into the air, breaking through the atmosphere the outside looking as if it was on fire. the astronauts inside, fought against sickness and gravity smiling as they knew soon enough they’d be in space..the final frontier
when im getting blasted with my friends its not about anything really. Just living the life I never had, was always curious about. I often wonder if it was the right choice, blasting the music, blasting the bowl. If throwing away my X’s was worth it.
Alex
She blasted the horn towards the neighbors yard. They weren’t doing anything in particular. No loud music. No raging party, but there she was. Blasting that horn. She didn’t even really hate the neighbors. But it was something to do out of a sense of frustration imbedded in her everyday life.
sylwia
Ugh, I couldn’t believe that blasted man. How could he do this to me?! I wanted to scream as I hopped into my car and drove away from the building that held my so called ‘father’. Only he would actually force me into a marriage that I never wanted to take part of. I didn’t know anything even about the man I was supposed to ‘marry’ within a month. I’m not even sure what he looks like.
Ruelie
He shook my head as though it would snap back into place.
He couldn’t fix me.
Blasted by the gun, I was
nothing more than a solid lump of mass
forever circling the waves of ever after.
I didn’t know I was dead yet.
falling in love
falling on my head
my skull is cracked
i’m better off dead
when you love somebody and they can’t love back
all you really get is smacked
blasted again
blasted with my friends
broken fingers
this always lingers.
Matty M.
Henry was blasted the night he finally came out to me. The funny thing was, he admitted it to me as if I didn’t already know, as if we didn’t all know. In fact, it was part of why we loved Henry. He never was quite like any of the rest of us. He never could be.
huh. for some reason the word reminds me of ice cream. The really good kind, that was melting faster than you could lick it off the cone, or out of a sandwich. The type that runs down your arm, drips off the end of your elbow no matter how fast you try to follow it with your tongue. The type that leaves a stick sweet residue behind, on the palm of your hand, in between your fingers, in the indentation above your top lip, and just a surprising smudge on your forehead, where you drug the back of your hand across it to secure those rouge bangs.
She was blasted from a cannon into the air and swirled in the stars, she looked through looking glasses and twirled in nebulas. She clung to a comet streaking across the cosmos, just before she opened her eyes and was blasted back to earth.
The boom shook the house and I screamed as my mother cried out, “get into the cellar, kids!” I grabbed my little brother’s hand and rushed into the kitchen, down where the bombs couldn’t reach us… hopefully. As another bomb blasted in the street, I held my brother tightly and prayed that it would be over soon. Another blast, and I realized our house had been hit. At first I was relieved it hadn’t reached the cellar, but then another though occurred. Tears pooled in my eyes as I frantically searched the small room and whispered somewhat hysterically, “mom….?”
Frantic as Raskolnikov’s second kill, similar too is my opinion to myself. Oh how the sands fall and the hour-glass grows thin. If only fate would have a sign, to sit and bide my time or wallow in a bit of shame and arrive to class without any knowledge of this week. Surely I was blasted off my bedsheets in this heightened state, with good reason at this crossroads there is no other way to describe my entrance.
Blasted emotions. Blasted mind. Blasted.
Nothing much though… But I think it reminds me of the world today. Blasted. Screwed up. Messy. Even more cruel than ever. It needs to be fixed again.
Someone blasted what sound like dynamite in the area where we were staying. I could not believe that we would be confronted by such an cowardly act so soon, after a truce were call, and peace once more appeared to be returning to our village.
I was blasted by the heat of the thermos and I was wondering if there was any way I could reduce the temperature. When I saw the dial to increase the temp, I used it to make myself feel better and calmer.
Thanks
breaking open. violently. extreme pressure forced into a concentrated point. there is now with holding from it. you are easily moved by its extreme force.
He blasted the tops off of mountains and so we blasted his behind out of the Senate. Answer: Mitch McConnell
In short, he was so half-blasted that we couldn’t get the blasted truth out of him.
Dawn blasted out of the mist towards her, swinging her in a big motion up and out of the swing like a jet rocket and plummeting to the ground. Brenda looked up. Dawn menaced down on her.
blasting paint onto the wall while he watched her do so. This is what they did everyday all day. Their passion was to blast paint in houses all the time helping their friends get the painting in their homes done. Even at night they blasted.
The last notes lingered in the air and everyone was speechless, admiring the beauty that they just heard. There was a moment when no one spoke, and it was as if everyone was stuck in their minds, without a care for anything else. That’s why when it happened, they didn’t even get to throw their hands over their heads.
Before they knew it, the orchestra was blasted to pieces.
call me weak, but hell, I lated this long. maybe it was all in my head, maybe it was avoidable, curable, maybe it just needed some attention. I never got that kind of attention, you know, the kind that focuses on my stability, on my wellness and happiness and aspirations. nobody questioned my motives or my interests beyond their existence, and nobody cared to wonder at all. I don’t blame anyone but myself. some people were just meant to be alone, and some of those people can’t stand to be alone for so long. if you find me blasted against a wall or in the comfort of my bathtub, don’t be alarmed. it was bound to happen some time.
like a landmine their reaches to reality were blasted away by the condescending lines to forever and above; what should have been wasn’t and what was shouldn’t have been. clambering to the top of discernment, she leaped for a thread of intrinsic perception through the undeniable declination of pure train of thought. the synopsis of life expected was obliterated within the spoken word of these inebriated concepts. welcome to the land mine.
I see this word and I think of anger. Or perhaps an explosion. I am unsure of what else. I think perhaps it’s what English people say when they are angry. That thought amuses me. The timer started over so I suppose I must write more, this is cheating. It is letting me continue to write so maybe I can do this over and over. Then I can submit it and everyone will think I can write very fast. I wonder how many times it will let me do this.
I HAVE SEEN THAT DAY A BLASTED CAR. IT WAS FULLY DAMAGED AND SHOCK TO SAW IT. THE DRIVER WA SDEAD ON THE SPOT. IT WAS HORRIBLE SECENE
Sounds like those brits describing something frustrating. Those blasted wonkers! Why dont americans have cool words..?
KAPOW! And off it went, the spaceship blasted through space at the speed of light. Never before had the world seen such a mode of extreme transportation. This was the dawn of a new era. What would come next…
Blasted away. The shot carried through his ears for what felt like centuries. He fell to his knees. The gun hit the floor. His brains on the wall. His blood staining the carpet. No more pain.
As the band were preparing for their performance, the audience bustled into the theatre, chattering eagerly.
Meanwhile somewhere in the crowd, two children were fighting over a rubber band, gradually becoming a tug of war. BANG! The band blasted into the hard, wooden walls and terrified the crowd. Screams filled the room and everyone was glaring at the band flying rapidly across the place. It landed on a lady’s face as she face-planted onto the floor. Quiet murmurs soon overcame the screams and a man’s voice called,
“Doctor!”
Tethers wither as the goal crystallizes.
Force is to punch as blasted is to broken water system.
This is what it means to explore.
Making sense of the meaninglessness.
Destruction to creation and back again.
And for what, to placate the super ego?
Our heroes, forever fighting our devilish Ids.
Blasted plaster!
Another drop dripped
Sinking into the carpet
Making its mark on my home
Building a memory I don’t want here
Of the time I had to build this home, alone
Clueless, spilling, and splattering
Lost and unsure
Not one more blasted drop of plaster no!
this blasted cursor keeps blinking at me incessantly. almost as if mocking my mental impotence. it’s been this way for weeks now. the only thing stopping me from smashing the screen is the knowledge that in my extreme poverty i would never be able to afford a new one. blast!
That night started on the stairs going down a slope between buildings somewhere after Cihangir where you could see the black water, the moon and the hill beyond. All the lights eye could see; the houses, lamps, the moon, the glitter on the water were identical orange sparks, blasted off of some explosion frozen mid air as if somebody just stopped the frame. But life was flowing at it’s usual pace with all the sparks hanging around us. All I remember hearing was the soft conversations humming between the people, crowding the stairs and the grassy slope. I became one of the voices and my cigarette joined the sparks. I was her raging ego.
this blasted cursor keeps blinking at me incessantly… almost as if it is mocking my mental impotence. it’s been like this for weeks now. the only thing that keeps me from smashing the screen is the knowledge that poverty would prevent me from getting a new one.
Oh, they said set it off.
I watched, I was blasted.
Why? Because it was the en vougue thing to do.
How was I to know.
That the myth was what made the legend.
If only I hadn’t had a hand in writing it.
The sight of a building being blasted away by the demolition crews was an incredible sight. the towering block of concrete came crashing down in rush of debris and dust.
Everyone were having a nice time. Its always fun to celebrate a new year with a glass of beer. But for Jack it was more than a party. He was behaving indecently with young women and was not able to control himself. He was blasted off from the party and the organisers made sure not to invite him in any future parties.
and so he put his headphones on thinking that he had turned the music off before he had gone into the arcade. but his delicate ears got blasted by heavy metal music, so loud that the insides of his ears ached. now, he has learned his lesson. don’t listen to heavy metal.
i got blasted on the weekend. blasted with glass. The glass on the animals cage suddenly shattered, leaving me with cuts across my face and other people frantically running as the reptiles slithered towards them.
The cannon blasted it’s projectile with fiery force.
“Look out!” cried a sailor from the other ship
“Fire again!” cried the captian
If I had a blasted hammer, I’d damn well blast it in the evening and all over this dag blasted land! Now I gotta think of more dang blasted humorous(less) comments to blast my insane brain into submission.
the rocket blasted up into the air, breaking through the atmosphere the outside looking as if it was on fire. the astronauts inside, fought against sickness and gravity smiling as they knew soon enough they’d be in space..the final frontier
when im getting blasted with my friends its not about anything really. Just living the life I never had, was always curious about. I often wonder if it was the right choice, blasting the music, blasting the bowl. If throwing away my X’s was worth it.
She blasted the horn towards the neighbors yard. They weren’t doing anything in particular. No loud music. No raging party, but there she was. Blasting that horn. She didn’t even really hate the neighbors. But it was something to do out of a sense of frustration imbedded in her everyday life.
Ugh, I couldn’t believe that blasted man. How could he do this to me?! I wanted to scream as I hopped into my car and drove away from the building that held my so called ‘father’. Only he would actually force me into a marriage that I never wanted to take part of. I didn’t know anything even about the man I was supposed to ‘marry’ within a month. I’m not even sure what he looks like.
He shook my head as though it would snap back into place.
He couldn’t fix me.
Blasted by the gun, I was
nothing more than a solid lump of mass
forever circling the waves of ever after.
I didn’t know I was dead yet.
falling in love
falling on my head
my skull is cracked
i’m better off dead
when you love somebody and they can’t love back
all you really get is smacked
blasted again
blasted with my friends
broken fingers
this always lingers.
Henry was blasted the night he finally came out to me. The funny thing was, he admitted it to me as if I didn’t already know, as if we didn’t all know. In fact, it was part of why we loved Henry. He never was quite like any of the rest of us. He never could be.
huh. for some reason the word reminds me of ice cream. The really good kind, that was melting faster than you could lick it off the cone, or out of a sandwich. The type that runs down your arm, drips off the end of your elbow no matter how fast you try to follow it with your tongue. The type that leaves a stick sweet residue behind, on the palm of your hand, in between your fingers, in the indentation above your top lip, and just a surprising smudge on your forehead, where you drug the back of your hand across it to secure those rouge bangs.
She was blasted from a cannon into the air and swirled in the stars, she looked through looking glasses and twirled in nebulas. She clung to a comet streaking across the cosmos, just before she opened her eyes and was blasted back to earth.
The blasted places of the world served as the coal center of history to make it run toward a renewed History, History shall’t repeat itself.
The boom shook the house and I screamed as my mother cried out, “get into the cellar, kids!” I grabbed my little brother’s hand and rushed into the kitchen, down where the bombs couldn’t reach us… hopefully. As another bomb blasted in the street, I held my brother tightly and prayed that it would be over soon. Another blast, and I realized our house had been hit. At first I was relieved it hadn’t reached the cellar, but then another though occurred. Tears pooled in my eyes as I frantically searched the small room and whispered somewhat hysterically, “mom….?”