I was thinking of the concept of curse yesterday, and thought if someone ever said they were cursed it was just a way to explain the unexplainable, and not having to take responsibility for it. Is there such a thing a being cursed, or do you simply keep making the same mistakes?
Menno
A curse can be cutting, confronting and not cool.
A curse by someone is not needed.
Robyn
I curse you technology.
Damn you and your curse-ors!
Robyn
A curse can be a witch’s curse or a blessed curse; the former a thing of stories and fantasies and the latter can be something like marriage. This statement may raise a few eyebrows but being someone who has been married for 3 and a half years I can testify to this as a fact.
Satish Thiagarajan
She cursed quietly to herself. She would never say it out loud to her, but she felt it with every ounce of her being. Anger was welling up inside. Bubbling, about to flow out uncontrollably.
Lana
The curse, haha, well that’s easy … being a writer. Curse articulation, curse paper, curse my keyboard, and after it all comes something that looks kinda pretty, like a Phoenix.
Tyson Jopson
I think that it is impossible to live life without trouble, but I don’t believe in curses, I do though, believe in blessings
Terry
So, you tell me, what do i think about when you show me the word curse. Well i don’t know. All i can think of at the moment is the speech i’m trying to write . Curse that.
Florence
You look at the person next to you. He’s standing too close. The person beside you? She’s sneezing and coughing without covering her mouth. And the man in front of you? He’s dusting the dandruff off his shirt. You’re stuck in the petri dish of germs known as an elevator; inside your head you’re cursing.
Ah freedom. Let lose. Who cares. Let go. Curse. Curse when it feels good. Curse when you’re alone. Scream it loud. Scream it filthy. Shock yourself. Curse and then be freed. It’s over. It’s done. Feels good. It’s over. Ah.
would it be right to call it a curse; that my lungs gasp for air, that my pulse turns rapid, that my heart plays that well known beat – whenever my name escapes your lips.
She read the curse out loud. Everyone listened to it. No one believed in any of these silly superstitions. The curse seemed to do nothing. We flipped through the book some more. There wasn’t anything interesting in it. At least, that’s what we thought at the time.
flying, across the universe, i came upon a curse. it made it into the second verse. can youbelieve \that is the worst just get me my hearse. call the nurse i’m cursed.
Dustin
This is a damn subject that we could argue for fucking days–is it good to once in a while curse? I read a study once )had to have been a Harvard study because it was so believable) that cursing lowers your risk for heart-attack. So the maxim should actually be: A curse word a day keeps the fucking Dr. away.
It must have been a curse. I’d never had issues with my hair falling out while brushing. I think I know who was the blame for it too. It must have been the little quiet girl from math class. She’d always been jealous of me. She even said “yes, your hair looks so pretty today” when people were complementing on my new hair color.
If he believed in a god, he would have prayed. But his curse was intelligence and it kept him from talking to the still darken in his room during times of desperation.
And as I grudgingly made my way home I reflected upon my curse of having to break bread with he whom never has to break a sweat in order to receive his daily ration. I couldn’t help but try to find peace in this most enraging of situations.
She wanted to scream up at the sky, and tear things apart, curse his name, throw magical curses at him. But she couldn’t. Was no the first rule, “Do no harm”? Besides, Karma would come back and kick her ass later. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to lay curse after curse upon him for cheating on her and breaking her heart.
He was forever cursed with this affliction. No one knew, yet everyone knew that something was wrong. He was disfigured, inside and out. It was never to be fixed, never to be helped. He was stuck, he was lost forever. It was his cross to bear.
Rebecca
Curse you! The curses are both symbolic and literal, like things always are. What the fuck is going on here? Did you know that curses actually can make you feel better? The act of saying a curse gives a voice to our internal feelings and actually lessens our pain. What an interesting concept.
The witch cackled her scariest cackle.
Princess Layne burst into tears.
Prince Jon could no longer speak.
And the world was forever changed.
Rebecca
They told me not to reach to far in, not to grip so hard that the knuckles on my graying fingers went white. Breath, breath, breath in through burning nostrils with wicked tongue lolling about on the surface of a mortician’s workspace and leave behind the boy with a penchant for making things bleed.
The first word I heard you utter when I spilled coffee on your notes, I thought you were angry at your ruined schoolwork. But you were worried that I might have to step back out into the cold to get us new drinks. It was the beginning of the end to your caffeine addiction. It was the end of the beginning to my beating around the bush.
Have mercy, Lord and free me from these curses I was born under and thunder through life with new cards and decks we’ve never seen. And I’m green and every other color not confined to hue but just human dispositions and this attrition is frightening and I’m biting not chomping at bits and chunks and myths debunked scooping out this gunk of living and giving away everything I can but dammit, nothing comes back in.
Loyalty.
That’s my curse.
I am perdictably, unfailingly loyal to a fault. I will not, cannot, do something that will harm even a former friend.
Because at one point, even if it was countless years ago, they meant something to me.
And even when there is good cause to say something cold or cruel, to ignore the person, to shout and scream and throw things, I cannot force the words out, cannot block out their attempts at conversation, cannot break down into some much-needed hysteria.
I can think everything I want to say to them, I can internalize all my anger or distrust, but I can never, ever, outwardly betray some one I once considered a friend.
It seems like I am the only one left with such antiquated views.
He was cursed, from the inside out. Everyday his soul blackened and the blood slowly drained itself from his heart. He was dying as the demons inside him came to life.
Kaylyn
The curse. It was the only one he could remember anymore. It was *the* curse. The forbidden curse. Draco sighed and put his wand away and turned away.
The curse in her blood, nothing she ever asked for, a gift from her father that made him turn her away. Even he, a fellow cursed soul couldn’t save her from what was meant to happen. At first, a long time ago, it was a curse. Slowly, as many things do, it changed. With her new family it didn’t seem so bad.
a blessing or a curse. each and every moment carries within the power of the double edged sword. there is an angel on your left shoulder and a devil on the right. from moment to moment they speak, using the same voice. do it… what have you got to lose? do it… what have you got to lose?
debra
It’s a curse that I’m having such terrible writers block. It’s as if an illiterate witch is keeping me from accomplishing my goals. She hates me.
She’d cursed him; a spell, for eternity. No other woman would compare, he would be consumed with lust for her. Always.
I was thinking of the concept of curse yesterday, and thought if someone ever said they were cursed it was just a way to explain the unexplainable, and not having to take responsibility for it. Is there such a thing a being cursed, or do you simply keep making the same mistakes?
A curse can be cutting, confronting and not cool.
A curse by someone is not needed.
I curse you technology.
Damn you and your curse-ors!
A curse can be a witch’s curse or a blessed curse; the former a thing of stories and fantasies and the latter can be something like marriage. This statement may raise a few eyebrows but being someone who has been married for 3 and a half years I can testify to this as a fact.
She cursed quietly to herself. She would never say it out loud to her, but she felt it with every ounce of her being. Anger was welling up inside. Bubbling, about to flow out uncontrollably.
The curse, haha, well that’s easy … being a writer. Curse articulation, curse paper, curse my keyboard, and after it all comes something that looks kinda pretty, like a Phoenix.
I think that it is impossible to live life without trouble, but I don’t believe in curses, I do though, believe in blessings
So, you tell me, what do i think about when you show me the word curse. Well i don’t know. All i can think of at the moment is the speech i’m trying to write . Curse that.
You look at the person next to you. He’s standing too close. The person beside you? She’s sneezing and coughing without covering her mouth. And the man in front of you? He’s dusting the dandruff off his shirt. You’re stuck in the petri dish of germs known as an elevator; inside your head you’re cursing.
for a curse so sweet, it would take a stroke of luck that was just plainly impossible. For now he’d have to do without free snickers for life……
haunted
Ah freedom. Let lose. Who cares. Let go. Curse. Curse when it feels good. Curse when you’re alone. Scream it loud. Scream it filthy. Shock yourself. Curse and then be freed. It’s over. It’s done. Feels good. It’s over. Ah.
love
a curse.
Is a waste of breath.
would it be right to call it a curse; that my lungs gasp for air, that my pulse turns rapid, that my heart plays that well known beat – whenever my name escapes your lips.
She read the curse out loud. Everyone listened to it. No one believed in any of these silly superstitions. The curse seemed to do nothing. We flipped through the book some more. There wasn’t anything interesting in it. At least, that’s what we thought at the time.
flying, across the universe, i came upon a curse. it made it into the second verse. can youbelieve \that is the worst just get me my hearse. call the nurse i’m cursed.
This is a damn subject that we could argue for fucking days–is it good to once in a while curse? I read a study once )had to have been a Harvard study because it was so believable) that cursing lowers your risk for heart-attack. So the maxim should actually be: A curse word a day keeps the fucking Dr. away.
It must have been a curse. I’d never had issues with my hair falling out while brushing. I think I know who was the blame for it too. It must have been the little quiet girl from math class. She’d always been jealous of me. She even said “yes, your hair looks so pretty today” when people were complementing on my new hair color.
If he believed in a god, he would have prayed. But his curse was intelligence and it kept him from talking to the still darken in his room during times of desperation.
worst. hurst. best. rest. fest. new. detests.
And as I grudgingly made my way home I reflected upon my curse of having to break bread with he whom never has to break a sweat in order to receive his daily ration. I couldn’t help but try to find peace in this most enraging of situations.
She wanted to scream up at the sky, and tear things apart, curse his name, throw magical curses at him. But she couldn’t. Was no the first rule, “Do no harm”? Besides, Karma would come back and kick her ass later. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to lay curse after curse upon him for cheating on her and breaking her heart.
He was forever cursed with this affliction. No one knew, yet everyone knew that something was wrong. He was disfigured, inside and out. It was never to be fixed, never to be helped. He was stuck, he was lost forever. It was his cross to bear.
Curse you! The curses are both symbolic and literal, like things always are. What the fuck is going on here? Did you know that curses actually can make you feel better? The act of saying a curse gives a voice to our internal feelings and actually lessens our pain. What an interesting concept.
The witch cackled her scariest cackle.
Princess Layne burst into tears.
Prince Jon could no longer speak.
And the world was forever changed.
They told me not to reach to far in, not to grip so hard that the knuckles on my graying fingers went white. Breath, breath, breath in through burning nostrils with wicked tongue lolling about on the surface of a mortician’s workspace and leave behind the boy with a penchant for making things bleed.
The first word I heard you utter when I spilled coffee on your notes, I thought you were angry at your ruined schoolwork. But you were worried that I might have to step back out into the cold to get us new drinks. It was the beginning of the end to your caffeine addiction. It was the end of the beginning to my beating around the bush.
you’ll have to be better than that to catch me
cause’ there’s no way the wolves are getting in
I’m no curse from father frost
Have mercy, Lord and free me from these curses I was born under and thunder through life with new cards and decks we’ve never seen. And I’m green and every other color not confined to hue but just human dispositions and this attrition is frightening and I’m biting not chomping at bits and chunks and myths debunked scooping out this gunk of living and giving away everything I can but dammit, nothing comes back in.
Loyalty.
That’s my curse.
I am perdictably, unfailingly loyal to a fault. I will not, cannot, do something that will harm even a former friend.
Because at one point, even if it was countless years ago, they meant something to me.
And even when there is good cause to say something cold or cruel, to ignore the person, to shout and scream and throw things, I cannot force the words out, cannot block out their attempts at conversation, cannot break down into some much-needed hysteria.
I can think everything I want to say to them, I can internalize all my anger or distrust, but I can never, ever, outwardly betray some one I once considered a friend.
It seems like I am the only one left with such antiquated views.
He was cursed, from the inside out. Everyday his soul blackened and the blood slowly drained itself from his heart. He was dying as the demons inside him came to life.
The curse. It was the only one he could remember anymore. It was *the* curse. The forbidden curse. Draco sighed and put his wand away and turned away.
he tells me i am
the worst thing
that has ever happened.
that he wishes
he could subtract me
from his life. something
damned.
it’s just a word.
Oh another curse
could things get any worse.
First your talk and now this
I’ve only to face this burden.
The curse in her blood, nothing she ever asked for, a gift from her father that made him turn her away. Even he, a fellow cursed soul couldn’t save her from what was meant to happen. At first, a long time ago, it was a curse. Slowly, as many things do, it changed. With her new family it didn’t seem so bad.
a blessing or a curse. each and every moment carries within the power of the double edged sword. there is an angel on your left shoulder and a devil on the right. from moment to moment they speak, using the same voice. do it… what have you got to lose? do it… what have you got to lose?
It’s a curse that I’m having such terrible writers block. It’s as if an illiterate witch is keeping me from accomplishing my goals. She hates me.