The emotional pangs of being lonely drill a spike through my heart. When we’re together, we’re one and complete. We’re the only two people in the world that can do this. The day we are finally together will be the happiest days of our lives. This trial is only penning another chapter for our story. It’s going to be the greatest love story ever told. We are exemplifying the powers of what true love is all about. That one day will come. And then we’ll live happily ever after.
the spike is sharp. well that was stating the obvious i suppose, but there it is. a fact. true and simple. it’s rare to get such an honest approach to things. also, Spike. of buffy fame. he is glorious. also sharp with the fangs i suppose.
As I took my position at the starting line, I inhaled the surrounding aroma’s; the smell of freshly cooked steak on the barbecue, the warm summer breeze that eroded from the ocean, and the musky scent of the surrounding fire pits. Everything was perfect, except for one thing, we were tied. The score was 44 even, and sadly, it was up to me to serve for the FINAL round, EEEK!
I’ve never been good at serving. I was always the first to start because 9 times out of 10 my ball didn’t make it over the net, and that would give our team enough time to gain enough points so that when I served again, we wouldn’t be down by much.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I wound up my arm and took a swing, and sure enough, I missed. The ball bounced right off the net. I tried for a second time, praying that for once, it’d actually make it over the net, but sadly, my pleas weren’t heard. I retrieved the ball, catching a look of the grimaces plastered across the faces of my team members. I knew if I were to miss like I have been doing, that I would be paying for the lose later.
I closed my eyes, wanting to center myself for the FINAL serve. I focused on my breathing, in and out, in and out. I pictured the court before me; 7 players and two openings. I opened my eyes, scanning for an opening in the court to serve to. I spotted it just to the left of Scrawny Timmy; the tallest of the players, but the slowest on the team. I wound up, focusing only on the open spot, deciding at the last moment to go with Tammy’s favorite serve; the spike. And with one fluid motion, I hit the ball, sending it flailing towards the unoccupied spot, which, surprisingly, won us the game.
I spiked the ball down, into the pool and the game began. She smiled at me and our eyes met constantly throughout the game. We knew the days end would bring us together again. This pool was just a momentary speed bump in our day.
a spike is a thing on someones head. Euhm..its hair, in Holland you can call your dog spike. I don’lt like the name. Its a singer from a band in Holland. And i don’t like him either. So i think this is enough for now.
Daniëlle
I can feel it again, creeping in, drilling deep into my mind; a spike of white noise and that static snow like what you see after you’ve watched the same vhs tape a hundred times in a row.
I’ve never had a dog named spike. I’ve never had anything named spike, come to think of it. It’s such a common pet name. I never wanted to be common. Common
is so unoriginal. I used to try so hard not to be like all the others. I’d listen to music that I knew all the other kids my age wouldn’t listen to. I’d shop in stores where they think are cheap and solely for old people. I’d play scrabble while everyone else is out drinking themselves into blackouts.
However, my attempts at originality failed. I’m like everyone else. A carbon copy. I’m like every single overplayed song on the radio; same crappy lyrics with the same crappy beat. There’s nothing uncommon about me. Just accept it, Maria. You’re who you are and who you are is the same as them. You’re one of them. Accept it.
Maria
I panted as I ran down the road, still wet from the downpour. It was just my luck that on my way to the party not only would I run into a downpour, but my neighbor’s highly irritating dog Spike.
The name of a dog or a lizard. The way my heart feels going through life. A hair style, for men and sometimes women….
Sandy
Love is like a spike in the road. It is unnoticeable to the most put together SUV, but can cause a rickety, outdated car to flip over. It is something that may sound like a flower petal in the wind, but can be a swarm of bees to another.
Was my favourite character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Far more complicated and amusing and sexy than the brooding Angel, or that meathead solider she went out with for a while.
There’s nothing like Buffy on telly anymore.
He raised the hammer up and brought it down onto the spike once again. Day after day he did this, the red dirt always blinding him, remaining in the sweat on his forehead and in his hair. The monotony was forever.
Jamie
I asked Spike, “What did he like?” At the hardware store, he held a nail and grabbed it hard until he bled. “A hammer would be nice!”
Michael
No more.
Billy
The spikes on your shoes are no sharper than those on your tongue. I’m wishing I could find happiness but all I find is spikes where the blood should be.
Billy
he was in buffy all like albino
ahhh gonna suck you so much bufffffy
albino bastard
hes like a dog
in the porno (muffy) spike was played by a luke worral lookalike…
andy
She felt the powerful muscles flexing under smooth scales as the dragon pumped its wings. At first, they rose jerkily, making her grip the dragon with her legs and hold on tightly to a spike on the back of its neck. Then it smoothed out and they were soaring over what used to be the limits of her world.
poking into my skin, i didn’t think it would hurt this bad. pretty diamond so beautiful, but so painful. looking in the mirror afterwards, i couldn’t help but wonder what was going through my head when i made that decision…
The emotional pangs of being lonely drill a spike through my heart. When we’re together, we’re one and complete. We’re the only two people in the world that can do this. The day we are finally together will be the happiest days of our lives. This trial is only penning another chapter for our story. It’s going to be the greatest love story ever told. We are exemplifying the powers of what true love is all about. That one day will come. And then we’ll live happily ever after.
the spike is sharp. well that was stating the obvious i suppose, but there it is. a fact. true and simple. it’s rare to get such an honest approach to things. also, Spike. of buffy fame. he is glorious. also sharp with the fangs i suppose.
As I took my position at the starting line, I inhaled the surrounding aroma’s; the smell of freshly cooked steak on the barbecue, the warm summer breeze that eroded from the ocean, and the musky scent of the surrounding fire pits. Everything was perfect, except for one thing, we were tied. The score was 44 even, and sadly, it was up to me to serve for the FINAL round, EEEK!
I’ve never been good at serving. I was always the first to start because 9 times out of 10 my ball didn’t make it over the net, and that would give our team enough time to gain enough points so that when I served again, we wouldn’t be down by much.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I wound up my arm and took a swing, and sure enough, I missed. The ball bounced right off the net. I tried for a second time, praying that for once, it’d actually make it over the net, but sadly, my pleas weren’t heard. I retrieved the ball, catching a look of the grimaces plastered across the faces of my team members. I knew if I were to miss like I have been doing, that I would be paying for the lose later.
I closed my eyes, wanting to center myself for the FINAL serve. I focused on my breathing, in and out, in and out. I pictured the court before me; 7 players and two openings. I opened my eyes, scanning for an opening in the court to serve to. I spotted it just to the left of Scrawny Timmy; the tallest of the players, but the slowest on the team. I wound up, focusing only on the open spot, deciding at the last moment to go with Tammy’s favorite serve; the spike. And with one fluid motion, I hit the ball, sending it flailing towards the unoccupied spot, which, surprisingly, won us the game.
I spiked the ball down, into the pool and the game began. She smiled at me and our eyes met constantly throughout the game. We knew the days end would bring us together again. This pool was just a momentary speed bump in our day.
a spike is a thing on someones head. Euhm..its hair, in Holland you can call your dog spike. I don’lt like the name. Its a singer from a band in Holland. And i don’t like him either. So i think this is enough for now.
I can feel it again, creeping in, drilling deep into my mind; a spike of white noise and that static snow like what you see after you’ve watched the same vhs tape a hundred times in a row.
I’ve never had a dog named spike. I’ve never had anything named spike, come to think of it. It’s such a common pet name. I never wanted to be common. Common
is so unoriginal. I used to try so hard not to be like all the others. I’d listen to music that I knew all the other kids my age wouldn’t listen to. I’d shop in stores where they think are cheap and solely for old people. I’d play scrabble while everyone else is out drinking themselves into blackouts.
However, my attempts at originality failed. I’m like everyone else. A carbon copy. I’m like every single overplayed song on the radio; same crappy lyrics with the same crappy beat. There’s nothing uncommon about me. Just accept it, Maria. You’re who you are and who you are is the same as them. You’re one of them. Accept it.
I panted as I ran down the road, still wet from the downpour. It was just my luck that on my way to the party not only would I run into a downpour, but my neighbor’s highly irritating dog Spike.
The silver song spike grew straight out of his mouth, piercing everyone’s ears with brilliance.
The name of a dog or a lizard. The way my heart feels going through life. A hair style, for men and sometimes women….
Love is like a spike in the road. It is unnoticeable to the most put together SUV, but can cause a rickety, outdated car to flip over. It is something that may sound like a flower petal in the wind, but can be a swarm of bees to another.
Was my favourite character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Far more complicated and amusing and sexy than the brooding Angel, or that meathead solider she went out with for a while.
There’s nothing like Buffy on telly anymore.
He raised the hammer up and brought it down onto the spike once again. Day after day he did this, the red dirt always blinding him, remaining in the sweat on his forehead and in his hair. The monotony was forever.
I asked Spike, “What did he like?” At the hardware store, he held a nail and grabbed it hard until he bled. “A hammer would be nice!”
No more.
The spikes on your shoes are no sharper than those on your tongue. I’m wishing I could find happiness but all I find is spikes where the blood should be.
he was in buffy all like albino
ahhh gonna suck you so much bufffffy
albino bastard
hes like a dog
in the porno (muffy) spike was played by a luke worral lookalike…
She felt the powerful muscles flexing under smooth scales as the dragon pumped its wings. At first, they rose jerkily, making her grip the dragon with her legs and hold on tightly to a spike on the back of its neck. Then it smoothed out and they were soaring over what used to be the limits of her world.
poking into my skin, i didn’t think it would hurt this bad. pretty diamond so beautiful, but so painful. looking in the mirror afterwards, i couldn’t help but wonder what was going through my head when i made that decision…