Everyday i just go through the motions. I no longer have emotions. Lifeless zombie searching for meaning. I wish i could feel something. The gears of my mind no longer grind together.
Joshua K.
i don’t know how to say this… i’m in love. i don’t speak too much english. this (what i’m writing) is nonsense. bye.
Dea
I grind my teeth as we pull on the rope. “Harder!” He yells. Easy for you to say… We pull and pull, and finally, they fall to the ground. We fall too, laughing, and cheering.
back to the grind, tomorrow
little one
but i’ll be back
after my time is up
selling my soul
to the man
in order to earn my keep
to keep you safe
to feed and nurture you
to hold you
to have you
little one
so small
helpless
hasn’t a single care in the world
and knows nothing
little one
except for one thing
you are living.
You know what really grinds my gears? Ha when my clutch wont shift gears and then the gears grind. I have to grind some coffee for the morning. i love whole beans and grinding them only when i need them.
grind. sexual. pelvic movement and rubbing vagina on another person. yippee.
Allyson
If i get this friggin word again…ugh. Is there only one word per day? Uncool. I want more more more lol so grind, what to say about it? I think maybe this time i’ll talk about coffee. It’s so delicious. The smell of it wakes me up in the morning. I don’t like it in the summer though, too hot. Other people do, but not me. Maybe I’ll try iced coffee!
Grinding wasn’t her thing. No, going to high school dances were rather lame, in her honest opinion. Who wanted to get a perfectly lovely dress you spent a crap load of cash on just to have some just come up on your lady bits and ruin it with sweat?
I just got this word! I was talking about how people grind their teeth at night. I don’t do it, I sleep like the dead. I don’t understand how it works, how you could do that while asleep. It seems like a pretty voluntary movement to me. It must be oh so uncomfortable. I’m glad I don’t do it. I still have tight vertebrae in my neck though.
Hannah
Boys and girls grind on each other when they dance. Skaters grind on rails with their boards. How are those two completely different things yet they are the same word? I grind nuts when I make smoothies. Well, I don’t because I don’t like nuts but people do when they make smoothies; people who like nuts, that is.
Liana
Grind reminds me of the coffee grind place. But the first thing that popped into my mind was grinding in a dance. people are all up against each other and are literally humping each other. It’s disgusting.
Sweat, beading at my neck as I felt his heavy breath against me. The music pounded in my ears, the air pulsing through me. Our hips gyrated together, grinding with a burning, unending passion.
Serena
what do i write omfg grinding is likea party right with sluts hahahaha oh im funny wow how much longer do i need to write for sjjfhdsjfhskfkjsd meow meow ding ding dong bop bop do do dodododo heheheh byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee kew meow lol grindin yo mac and cheese
michelle
your teeth at night and your jaw will hurt. I know because I do this, uncontrollably. I have no clue why I do and I am asleep so I cannot stop. Maybe it is stress, but I don’t feel stressed out. Matt says it is because my brain doesn’t shut off. This is true. I can’t stop thinking and thinking and talking and thinking and talking.
Dana
reminds me about grids, grids remind me about mathematic problems, math problems remind me about school, school reminds me that i’m now on vacations and that they are really long, and that i have nothing to do
melissa mancera
“This day’s been a grind.”
“Grind…grind. I’ve heard that word before.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have.”
“No,” interjected Randy, “I mean it means something. Like something from my past. Something that’s been haunting me for ages.”
Alan blinked. He was a co-worker of Randy’s at the deli. Not a therapist. “Like…the Daily Grind coffee shop down the street?”
“No,” replied Randy. “Too easy.”
Belinda Roddie
The grind of the day. Getting to work, walking around, running from one place to another. It’s only a matter of of pacing ourselves.
He grind the cheese on the plate, waiting for it to melt completely before mixing his spaghetti noodles together. The smell of the only dish that he could make decently was maddeningly delicious, as he had not eaten anything yet that day.
Anon
grind. you know what really grinds me gears? when people feel like they deserve everything just because theyve done well. i also hate when people use cultural differences as an excuse. its not and excuse, ever. and religion, yes people are different but that doesnt give you a right to complain about their differences.
kelly
The daily grind. The old salt mines. Another day another dollar.
As I rode the subway to work, I tried to think of all the cliches that people use to describe going to work. My father’s favorite was that he was going to the salt mines. As a child, I never understood it. He was a contractor, what did that have to do with salt!
The subway approached my stop and I stood up to get off the train.
“Hey!” I heard behind me. “Hey, did you drop this?”
I turned to see who was speaking and see if I had dropped something.
that’s disgusting. that horrible thing that people call dancing. i mean, grinding on each other does not equal confessing love to each other. it’s just gross. it’s sex on the dance floor. i mean, really? grinding is just plain gross.
what ever happened to the dancing from the old movies? the ball dancing, even the dancing from the 50’s. swing, hip hop, what ever happened to that?
no. that’s not here anymore. all that’s left is grinding. sickening, horrible, grinding.
Jessica
Grind?
What a weird word, so many things can be derived from it.
I don’t think I can make the time limit and I’m typing as fast as I can. Am I doing this right? Too much pressure, gonna explode. I hope I get it right?
I don’t know.
Time’s almost up!
Ah, panicked and couldn’t finish this last sentence before it was up.
Sharlette
The crafstman slams his hammer down over the burning metal finly crafting it into a blade being made specificly for the king. Making this blade well will make him very wealthy and so he grinds the hammer down over and over the weapon. Dunking it inot the freeazing water and hearing the satisfying sizzle as the heat meets the cold he smiles to himself at all the beer he can want with the gold he will recieve.
As I sat on my chair, struggling to remember all those ideas and formulas that I tried so hard to remember last night, I clenched my sweaty hands, almost breaking the pencil I was writing with into two.
It felt like hell, my brain grinding information out of my mind, trying desperately to come up with an answer for the godforsaken exam.
The bell rang, the time when we were supposed to hand in our finished — or unfinished — papers to the teacher sitting contentedly at the front part of the classroom. Obviously, they enjoyed our misery as we give them the test papers, wincing and groaning.
The daily grind was getting to me. So I did the only logical thing that made sense — sold all my belongings except a backpack and some clothes and set out to walk around the world. One step at a time.
When I was very small I began to grind my teeth at night in the dark in the sleep world that held me in its terrible arms and squeezed the daylight out of me until I tried to grind down my own bones.
the dentist selected an evil looking tool. he scraped it against my teeth. what was worse than the feeling was the horrible sound it made as it scraped against my teeth, occaisionally stabbing my gums.
you grinded against me with hot passion i didn’t know what to do i didnt want you but i wanted the moment the hot sensual moment was unbelievable what am i doing to myself is this what i really need no but it’s what i want.
Melissa
I wanna grind my face into places all over your body. I wanna make you wiggle and toes curl. I want your back to arch as I push deep inside you. My love for you is endless!
RagerE
I’ve already written about this word, but as I said, it’s the grind. It’s the grind of your teeth as your jaw clenches. It’s the word used when you’ve put effort into something. It’s the salt and pepper. It’s the skin of two bodies touching on the dance floor, becoming one. It’s the grind.
The fury that grinds us into this eternal ground
hounding and crunching away at our brains sharp edges.
So, laugh at the magicians who forgot that they too have the stone on
their bowed shoulders.
the Los Angeles Kings have finally made it to the Stanley Cup finals. They have been classified as “ginder” team. Which basically means that each player goes on the ice and works their hardest in order to get the job done. They play together as a TEAM.. there are no superstars… they will grind it out together until they bring the CUP HOME.
The daily grind. That was what it was all about. He stood in line, he ate his lunch, he worked the assembly. It was harrowing, a journey to be overtaken by many, but understood by one. We are all parts working our single task, too small to see the big picture. He stood in the line at the bank, dark circles growing under his eyes. His hands shook, but felt steady, his eyes strained but felt clear. He was losing it, at last.
Fumi
He grinded his hips against hers. She moaned out his name, suprised at his rough touch and firm grip. He wanted her. He needed her.
lisa puccetti
Grind. It’s the feeling you get after you’ve done something with an effort. It’s the action of two bodies melding together as one, at a dance, on the floor, with the music pumping in your veins, the lights flashing with your heart beat, the touch and feel of the persons skin next to you.
Hannah
Under the strobe lights (I used to love coming alive underneath them),
That is where i saw her, at one in the morning,
grinding up against some other guy.
Doubtless she was drunk,
off of beers he had bought her, one after another,
And the pulsing light became my heartbeat, speeding,
and it became little flashes of the moment, which seemed to drag on infinitely,
and it was my eyes blinking, trying to change where i was and who i would be tomorrow.
Nose to the grindstone, fingers worn down to the bone.
I work myself to death.
Everyday i just go through the motions. I no longer have emotions. Lifeless zombie searching for meaning. I wish i could feel something. The gears of my mind no longer grind together.
i don’t know how to say this… i’m in love. i don’t speak too much english. this (what i’m writing) is nonsense. bye.
I grind my teeth as we pull on the rope. “Harder!” He yells. Easy for you to say… We pull and pull, and finally, they fall to the ground. We fall too, laughing, and cheering.
back to the grind, tomorrow
little one
but i’ll be back
after my time is up
selling my soul
to the man
in order to earn my keep
to keep you safe
to feed and nurture you
to hold you
to have you
little one
so small
helpless
hasn’t a single care in the world
and knows nothing
little one
except for one thing
you are living.
You know what really grinds my gears? Ha when my clutch wont shift gears and then the gears grind. I have to grind some coffee for the morning. i love whole beans and grinding them only when i need them.
grind. sexual. pelvic movement and rubbing vagina on another person. yippee.
If i get this friggin word again…ugh. Is there only one word per day? Uncool. I want more more more lol so grind, what to say about it? I think maybe this time i’ll talk about coffee. It’s so delicious. The smell of it wakes me up in the morning. I don’t like it in the summer though, too hot. Other people do, but not me. Maybe I’ll try iced coffee!
Grinding wasn’t her thing. No, going to high school dances were rather lame, in her honest opinion. Who wanted to get a perfectly lovely dress you spent a crap load of cash on just to have some just come up on your lady bits and ruin it with sweat?
I just got this word! I was talking about how people grind their teeth at night. I don’t do it, I sleep like the dead. I don’t understand how it works, how you could do that while asleep. It seems like a pretty voluntary movement to me. It must be oh so uncomfortable. I’m glad I don’t do it. I still have tight vertebrae in my neck though.
Boys and girls grind on each other when they dance. Skaters grind on rails with their boards. How are those two completely different things yet they are the same word? I grind nuts when I make smoothies. Well, I don’t because I don’t like nuts but people do when they make smoothies; people who like nuts, that is.
Grind reminds me of the coffee grind place. But the first thing that popped into my mind was grinding in a dance. people are all up against each other and are literally humping each other. It’s disgusting.
Sweat, beading at my neck as I felt his heavy breath against me. The music pounded in my ears, the air pulsing through me. Our hips gyrated together, grinding with a burning, unending passion.
what do i write omfg grinding is likea party right with sluts hahahaha oh im funny wow how much longer do i need to write for sjjfhdsjfhskfkjsd meow meow ding ding dong bop bop do do dodododo heheheh byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee kew meow lol grindin yo mac and cheese
your teeth at night and your jaw will hurt. I know because I do this, uncontrollably. I have no clue why I do and I am asleep so I cannot stop. Maybe it is stress, but I don’t feel stressed out. Matt says it is because my brain doesn’t shut off. This is true. I can’t stop thinking and thinking and talking and thinking and talking.
reminds me about grids, grids remind me about mathematic problems, math problems remind me about school, school reminds me that i’m now on vacations and that they are really long, and that i have nothing to do
“This day’s been a grind.”
“Grind…grind. I’ve heard that word before.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have.”
“No,” interjected Randy, “I mean it means something. Like something from my past. Something that’s been haunting me for ages.”
Alan blinked. He was a co-worker of Randy’s at the deli. Not a therapist. “Like…the Daily Grind coffee shop down the street?”
“No,” replied Randy. “Too easy.”
The grind of the day. Getting to work, walking around, running from one place to another. It’s only a matter of of pacing ourselves.
The daily grind.
He grind the cheese on the plate, waiting for it to melt completely before mixing his spaghetti noodles together. The smell of the only dish that he could make decently was maddeningly delicious, as he had not eaten anything yet that day.
grind. you know what really grinds me gears? when people feel like they deserve everything just because theyve done well. i also hate when people use cultural differences as an excuse. its not and excuse, ever. and religion, yes people are different but that doesnt give you a right to complain about their differences.
The daily grind. The old salt mines. Another day another dollar.
As I rode the subway to work, I tried to think of all the cliches that people use to describe going to work. My father’s favorite was that he was going to the salt mines. As a child, I never understood it. He was a contractor, what did that have to do with salt!
The subway approached my stop and I stood up to get off the train.
“Hey!” I heard behind me. “Hey, did you drop this?”
I turned to see who was speaking and see if I had dropped something.
that’s disgusting. that horrible thing that people call dancing. i mean, grinding on each other does not equal confessing love to each other. it’s just gross. it’s sex on the dance floor. i mean, really? grinding is just plain gross.
what ever happened to the dancing from the old movies? the ball dancing, even the dancing from the 50’s. swing, hip hop, what ever happened to that?
no. that’s not here anymore. all that’s left is grinding. sickening, horrible, grinding.
Grind?
What a weird word, so many things can be derived from it.
I don’t think I can make the time limit and I’m typing as fast as I can. Am I doing this right? Too much pressure, gonna explode. I hope I get it right?
I don’t know.
Time’s almost up!
Ah, panicked and couldn’t finish this last sentence before it was up.
The crafstman slams his hammer down over the burning metal finly crafting it into a blade being made specificly for the king. Making this blade well will make him very wealthy and so he grinds the hammer down over and over the weapon. Dunking it inot the freeazing water and hearing the satisfying sizzle as the heat meets the cold he smiles to himself at all the beer he can want with the gold he will recieve.
As I sat on my chair, struggling to remember all those ideas and formulas that I tried so hard to remember last night, I clenched my sweaty hands, almost breaking the pencil I was writing with into two.
It felt like hell, my brain grinding information out of my mind, trying desperately to come up with an answer for the godforsaken exam.
The bell rang, the time when we were supposed to hand in our finished — or unfinished — papers to the teacher sitting contentedly at the front part of the classroom. Obviously, they enjoyed our misery as we give them the test papers, wincing and groaning.
The daily grind was getting to me. So I did the only logical thing that made sense — sold all my belongings except a backpack and some clothes and set out to walk around the world. One step at a time.
the constant steady sound
in the night
as her jaw moves back and forth
and slowly her teeth wear eachother down
tomorrow the dentist will cry
When I was very small I began to grind my teeth at night in the dark in the sleep world that held me in its terrible arms and squeezed the daylight out of me until I tried to grind down my own bones.
Grinding coffee, grinding my teeth, grinding. So, what. Go ahead, grind away. I’ll watch.
the dentist selected an evil looking tool. he scraped it against my teeth. what was worse than the feeling was the horrible sound it made as it scraped against my teeth, occaisionally stabbing my gums.
you grinded against me with hot passion i didn’t know what to do i didnt want you but i wanted the moment the hot sensual moment was unbelievable what am i doing to myself is this what i really need no but it’s what i want.
I wanna grind my face into places all over your body. I wanna make you wiggle and toes curl. I want your back to arch as I push deep inside you. My love for you is endless!
I’ve already written about this word, but as I said, it’s the grind. It’s the grind of your teeth as your jaw clenches. It’s the word used when you’ve put effort into something. It’s the salt and pepper. It’s the skin of two bodies touching on the dance floor, becoming one. It’s the grind.
The fury that grinds us into this eternal ground
hounding and crunching away at our brains sharp edges.
So, laugh at the magicians who forgot that they too have the stone on
their bowed shoulders.
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
grind
the Los Angeles Kings have finally made it to the Stanley Cup finals. They have been classified as “ginder” team. Which basically means that each player goes on the ice and works their hardest in order to get the job done. They play together as a TEAM.. there are no superstars… they will grind it out together until they bring the CUP HOME.
The daily grind. That was what it was all about. He stood in line, he ate his lunch, he worked the assembly. It was harrowing, a journey to be overtaken by many, but understood by one. We are all parts working our single task, too small to see the big picture. He stood in the line at the bank, dark circles growing under his eyes. His hands shook, but felt steady, his eyes strained but felt clear. He was losing it, at last.
He grinded his hips against hers. She moaned out his name, suprised at his rough touch and firm grip. He wanted her. He needed her.
Grind. It’s the feeling you get after you’ve done something with an effort. It’s the action of two bodies melding together as one, at a dance, on the floor, with the music pumping in your veins, the lights flashing with your heart beat, the touch and feel of the persons skin next to you.
Under the strobe lights (I used to love coming alive underneath them),
That is where i saw her, at one in the morning,
grinding up against some other guy.
Doubtless she was drunk,
off of beers he had bought her, one after another,
And the pulsing light became my heartbeat, speeding,
and it became little flashes of the moment, which seemed to drag on infinitely,
and it was my eyes blinking, trying to change where i was and who i would be tomorrow.