As I walk down the hall, its as if its all in slow motion. not only do i not feel like myself, but i dont even feel like im actually awake and walking into the school. this is what dread truly feels like. If i could bury my head under my soft pink pilllow that ivfe had since third grade i would be absolutely at rest.
Roxxie
Voices were vacant from the hall. Paint peeled off the walls, the horrible beige school color that demoted creativity. Condensation ran down the walls, giving the space a clammy feel. It was hot out that day, but the inside of the deserted building was still being air conditioned even though it was scheduled for demolition in less than a week.
A scream pierced the humidity.
The girl whirled her head around, her arm jerked up as if to pull herself up, but just as quickly fell back, restrained by a handcuff on the end of a short metal chain.
The hall was dark and scary. Nobody wanted to go down it, but they had to. Someone was chasing them, following them. They had to hurry. They ran as fast as they could, but the hall captured them. They were ate by the hall. Thousands of mouths and knives. They were gone and fast.
Whitney
when we pass we have to avert my eyes, this is what we do now. i don’t like the way we tried to remodel by painting the walls a lime green. the fluorescent lighting never changed. now you are lit from above, your eyes your cheeks pockmarked and contoured by strange shadow
I sit in the hall. I do nothing in the hall. The hall could be a metaphor for many things. I don’t mean to go on and drag on. I say the same things, I repeat myself, so does a hall. What is it? What do you even notice in that moment you’re in the hall? What is there to do? Are you bored or interested, sad or happy? Maybe the hall leads somewhere. Maybe it does not. Hopefully we can think better of halls.
Down the hall
Deck it
Let the poser knights check like do u prefer cash of debt it
Let it flow from the dome like Katrina
The storm old time worn and quick to be adored
Can’t afford a different life
But I make enough to pay
Selling marry Jane from the locker I have down the hall
Chris
A long path to the unknown, draped in deep navy and spotted with dark outlines. Unspecified by previous knowledge, outlines lacking personality, lacking truth, walking in unison down the hall. Outlines unsure of destination, following blindly their predecessors into the unknown.
Nyla Jennings
I watched him pass me and wander down the hall with friends in tow. I tried not to laugh at his lack of noticing me. It wasn’t like we made out last night. It wasn’t like he was the one to initiate contact. And it wasn’t like I enjoyed it.
March of the Barbie Dolls
Louis Vuittons clattering as one down dimly lit halls
Manicured hands daintily clutch at their second hand textbooks
Want everything
Are nothing
Annika
Hall! Hall time! Aw yeah. Hall time.
I like sitting there with you on spare, harmonizing. Writing. Being accepted.
Halls. Halls rhyme with many things. Calls, talls, galls, yalls. Don’t even say it, pervert.
Lexi
I don’t know how to write about this word. It’s a strange word. I don’t know how, but it is. Somehow. Someway. I must write. Writer’s block. It has to be writer’s block. It has to.
Lexi
Halls are long. Sometimes they are so long, it seems like forever before you reach the end. Like life. Life is long. It sometimes seems like it will never end. But it will. Don’t take it for granted. Live it to the fullest.
Lexi
I know someone by this last name. The name suited him because he was as boring as one. Obviously I didn’t deserve him anyways..
She sprinted down the hallway, photographs falling in her wake as the glass sprayed her ankles. She had to get out, away from that tacky wallpaper and staring faces, each seeming to whisper “Why is the rum gone”. Why is the rum always gone.
Lane
i walk though the school hall and i see the guy i lik. he walks at a different pace as i do, he’s faster, he needs to get to class soon, the teacher mght shut the door in his face and he cannot let that happen.
Paola
the long hall….the distance between who I am and who I want to be….the distance between me and what I want….Education, Happiness, Success….insecurity, too long, but I will manage…I will handle this. I will survive. I will thrive.
Melissa Newton
Hall, I guess that is a weird word. Being in the hall is like not being in any room at all. That rhymed. My room in Greensboro is pretty much just a hall since my roommate and I share the loft in our house.
Emma
the hall was lonely and frightening. The only sound you could hear was the click clacking of shoes slowly walking. the only issue is that there was no one in the hall at all. Its abandoned…
Madelaine
A passage way that leads people. To the place that can only be taken by the hall. Without the hall there would be nothing to travel with inside a building. The hall is the place of thinking and rest.
Claire
I know it’s just a hallway – that’s all it is. But that’s not what I see. I can see the bloodstains on the walls, and hear the screams echoing through the corridors. I can see the pain, as if it is etched into the very foundations.
The long droopy lockers surround me. I am running. I do not want to be here. Why can’t i go home?
Murphy
She stood there, her heart in her chest beating faster they any speed she’d gone on her bike. Looking into his eyes she forgot her locker combination. She didn’t want him to know how lost he made her feel.
Stephanie
We danced through the halls of the kings, now torn asunder by the rioting mobs. The days of darkness were gone.
tonykeyesjapan
I followed her last night, she turned her head
as she walked down the hall
I followed her click clack stilettos
They snapped at me and made my jaw click metronome
I suppose she had gone just to go
But I follow to go after someone who has gone
Is it a cycle? Is it cyclic?
I know not. She calls to me, she has already called.
LX
Sara rounded the corner and stopped short. Standing directly in front of her locker was Laura and her friends. She wanted to turn around but she couldn’t. She took a deep breath and started toward them. “Oh, look who it is,” Laura sneered. Her friends all laughed. They blocked her locker. Sara stood there, at a loss for what to do. She had to get her math textbook but didn’t want to fight.
Sara
Highschool hallways always smell like pre pubescent boys and spilled food and general unpleasantness. Third floor Jho hallways is a magical place of sprinkles and fairytales and procrastination and of SHIT NOT GETTING DONE which is why I’m on stumbleupon right now not doing my work but writing about hallways WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE
Leah
Deck the halls with boughs of holly~
The song rang through my ears. I hate that song. I hate my math teacher, Ms. Holly.
Long, narrow, endless, falling back and going forward at the same time. Falling with a direction but not knowing exactly where I’m going. There’s only one way to go, down the hallway. I hope I remember how to get out of here, it all looks the same.
rebecca
So I went to a hall. Thanks family. I come home from an amazing quest and I get told to go to the hall. Who is in the hall? No one. Why am I here? I don’t know. My uncle just greeted me at the door and told me to come here.
no
dining hall deerfield where i would eat, i like food a lot and i could really go for some icecream…im not to sure why i like icecream especially when im feeling so fat right now, im not fat, but i feel fat. im not skinny either but its bigger than i think looks good.. and i think it might have to do with my birth control im on or maybe my medicine change but im unsure. i wish i knew though because i feel like this isnt how my body is supposed to be.
Shenae
I sat in a empty hall. Why I was here, I did not know. I just knew that I needed something here. “Go to the hall,” my uncle said. After sending me on a hair raising adventure with bears and bandits I get greeted at home by going to the hall.
no
An empty hall that was all he had left, after all the things that he had seen in the last year a hall that’s what he had
i walk down the hall, i sit in the hall, i stand in the hall. Hesitant, I start my steps again and continue down the hall, away from the door. and then I turn back, a surge of confidence powering my movement. I walk back to stand in front of the door, I reach out my hand to knock on the hardwood.
lilly
The low thrum of his voice carried itself across the tavern’s floor like a mist, Mystindil was at it again, telling his famed stories and more than twice the towns residents had gathered for the harrowing tale. He knew as did everyone else, that his stories were taken from another Story-weaver from less than a century ago but with every story his interpretation pierced the doubts of the crowd, and he was able sway audiences with every pause and ballad. The man went down in history, as famed as the heroes in the tales.
Eric Harrell
I had planned this morning to write a bit
About the word of the previous day,
So I’m rather not equipped
Right now with much to say
About today’s word, namely “hall,”
Which doesn’t seem to fit,
For ’tis at Christmas when we deck it;
Perhaps that memo slipped
From the hand of he or she
That chose this mas-sive, merry word
Before I even bought my tree.
She waits in the hall, alone. She does not even know where to go, nor whom she should call. She has never belonged; she will have to face this, alone.
As I walk down the hall, its as if its all in slow motion. not only do i not feel like myself, but i dont even feel like im actually awake and walking into the school. this is what dread truly feels like. If i could bury my head under my soft pink pilllow that ivfe had since third grade i would be absolutely at rest.
Voices were vacant from the hall. Paint peeled off the walls, the horrible beige school color that demoted creativity. Condensation ran down the walls, giving the space a clammy feel. It was hot out that day, but the inside of the deserted building was still being air conditioned even though it was scheduled for demolition in less than a week.
A scream pierced the humidity.
The girl whirled her head around, her arm jerked up as if to pull herself up, but just as quickly fell back, restrained by a handcuff on the end of a short metal chain.
The hall was dark and scary. Nobody wanted to go down it, but they had to. Someone was chasing them, following them. They had to hurry. They ran as fast as they could, but the hall captured them. They were ate by the hall. Thousands of mouths and knives. They were gone and fast.
when we pass we have to avert my eyes, this is what we do now. i don’t like the way we tried to remodel by painting the walls a lime green. the fluorescent lighting never changed. now you are lit from above, your eyes your cheeks pockmarked and contoured by strange shadow
looming
long
looking into your future
looking into your past
all are immense halls
I sit in the hall. I do nothing in the hall. The hall could be a metaphor for many things. I don’t mean to go on and drag on. I say the same things, I repeat myself, so does a hall. What is it? What do you even notice in that moment you’re in the hall? What is there to do? Are you bored or interested, sad or happy? Maybe the hall leads somewhere. Maybe it does not. Hopefully we can think better of halls.
Down the hall
Deck it
Let the poser knights check like do u prefer cash of debt it
Let it flow from the dome like Katrina
The storm old time worn and quick to be adored
Can’t afford a different life
But I make enough to pay
Selling marry Jane from the locker I have down the hall
A long path to the unknown, draped in deep navy and spotted with dark outlines. Unspecified by previous knowledge, outlines lacking personality, lacking truth, walking in unison down the hall. Outlines unsure of destination, following blindly their predecessors into the unknown.
I watched him pass me and wander down the hall with friends in tow. I tried not to laugh at his lack of noticing me. It wasn’t like we made out last night. It wasn’t like he was the one to initiate contact. And it wasn’t like I enjoyed it.
If only I were better at lying to myself.
March of the Barbie Dolls
Louis Vuittons clattering as one down dimly lit halls
Manicured hands daintily clutch at their second hand textbooks
Want everything
Are nothing
Hall! Hall time! Aw yeah. Hall time.
I like sitting there with you on spare, harmonizing. Writing. Being accepted.
All in the hallway.
With you.
Halls. Halls rhyme with many things. Calls, talls, galls, yalls. Don’t even say it, pervert.
I don’t know how to write about this word. It’s a strange word. I don’t know how, but it is. Somehow. Someway. I must write. Writer’s block. It has to be writer’s block. It has to.
Halls are long. Sometimes they are so long, it seems like forever before you reach the end. Like life. Life is long. It sometimes seems like it will never end. But it will. Don’t take it for granted. Live it to the fullest.
I know someone by this last name. The name suited him because he was as boring as one. Obviously I didn’t deserve him anyways..
She sprinted down the hallway, photographs falling in her wake as the glass sprayed her ankles. She had to get out, away from that tacky wallpaper and staring faces, each seeming to whisper “Why is the rum gone”. Why is the rum always gone.
i walk though the school hall and i see the guy i lik. he walks at a different pace as i do, he’s faster, he needs to get to class soon, the teacher mght shut the door in his face and he cannot let that happen.
the long hall….the distance between who I am and who I want to be….the distance between me and what I want….Education, Happiness, Success….insecurity, too long, but I will manage…I will handle this. I will survive. I will thrive.
Hall, I guess that is a weird word. Being in the hall is like not being in any room at all. That rhymed. My room in Greensboro is pretty much just a hall since my roommate and I share the loft in our house.
the hall was lonely and frightening. The only sound you could hear was the click clacking of shoes slowly walking. the only issue is that there was no one in the hall at all. Its abandoned…
A passage way that leads people. To the place that can only be taken by the hall. Without the hall there would be nothing to travel with inside a building. The hall is the place of thinking and rest.
I know it’s just a hallway – that’s all it is. But that’s not what I see. I can see the bloodstains on the walls, and hear the screams echoing through the corridors. I can see the pain, as if it is etched into the very foundations.
No, it will never be just a hall.
The long droopy lockers surround me. I am running. I do not want to be here. Why can’t i go home?
She stood there, her heart in her chest beating faster they any speed she’d gone on her bike. Looking into his eyes she forgot her locker combination. She didn’t want him to know how lost he made her feel.
We danced through the halls of the kings, now torn asunder by the rioting mobs. The days of darkness were gone.
I followed her last night, she turned her head
as she walked down the hall
I followed her click clack stilettos
They snapped at me and made my jaw click metronome
I suppose she had gone just to go
But I follow to go after someone who has gone
Is it a cycle? Is it cyclic?
I know not. She calls to me, she has already called.
Sara rounded the corner and stopped short. Standing directly in front of her locker was Laura and her friends. She wanted to turn around but she couldn’t. She took a deep breath and started toward them. “Oh, look who it is,” Laura sneered. Her friends all laughed. They blocked her locker. Sara stood there, at a loss for what to do. She had to get her math textbook but didn’t want to fight.
Highschool hallways always smell like pre pubescent boys and spilled food and general unpleasantness. Third floor Jho hallways is a magical place of sprinkles and fairytales and procrastination and of SHIT NOT GETTING DONE which is why I’m on stumbleupon right now not doing my work but writing about hallways WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE
Deck the halls with boughs of holly~
The song rang through my ears. I hate that song. I hate my math teacher, Ms. Holly.
To bad for me, I hate Christmas.
(not really)
angel kept secret by hell,
let me swim the golden
waters of your halo.
Long, narrow, endless, falling back and going forward at the same time. Falling with a direction but not knowing exactly where I’m going. There’s only one way to go, down the hallway. I hope I remember how to get out of here, it all looks the same.
So I went to a hall. Thanks family. I come home from an amazing quest and I get told to go to the hall. Who is in the hall? No one. Why am I here? I don’t know. My uncle just greeted me at the door and told me to come here.
dining hall deerfield where i would eat, i like food a lot and i could really go for some icecream…im not to sure why i like icecream especially when im feeling so fat right now, im not fat, but i feel fat. im not skinny either but its bigger than i think looks good.. and i think it might have to do with my birth control im on or maybe my medicine change but im unsure. i wish i knew though because i feel like this isnt how my body is supposed to be.
I sat in a empty hall. Why I was here, I did not know. I just knew that I needed something here. “Go to the hall,” my uncle said. After sending me on a hair raising adventure with bears and bandits I get greeted at home by going to the hall.
An empty hall that was all he had left, after all the things that he had seen in the last year a hall that’s what he had
“I’ll Never Be the Same”
In the morning, you made me breakfast
You called it “Hall and Oatesmeal”
I rolled my eyes
I dreamt of you that night
singing “You make my dreams …”
I rolled over
on to you
(ooo ooo)
In the morning, you made me breakfast
i walk down the hall, i sit in the hall, i stand in the hall. Hesitant, I start my steps again and continue down the hall, away from the door. and then I turn back, a surge of confidence powering my movement. I walk back to stand in front of the door, I reach out my hand to knock on the hardwood.
The low thrum of his voice carried itself across the tavern’s floor like a mist, Mystindil was at it again, telling his famed stories and more than twice the towns residents had gathered for the harrowing tale. He knew as did everyone else, that his stories were taken from another Story-weaver from less than a century ago but with every story his interpretation pierced the doubts of the crowd, and he was able sway audiences with every pause and ballad. The man went down in history, as famed as the heroes in the tales.
I had planned this morning to write a bit
About the word of the previous day,
So I’m rather not equipped
Right now with much to say
About today’s word, namely “hall,”
Which doesn’t seem to fit,
For ’tis at Christmas when we deck it;
Perhaps that memo slipped
From the hand of he or she
That chose this mas-sive, merry word
Before I even bought my tree.