Slide back then step forward, falling like a drunk cat in a crooked stable. This is the dance that keeps the creepies at the red line wondering why the cloudy sky is in their pants. Then look around to see the hunger of the horny people devour the serenity of those speechless lame ones.
that reminds me of a horse thing where they keep horses and a person that is strong. i remember i was not ver ystable when my grandma died. and one day i saw dr. martin luther king give a speech and the word stable just popped into my head
ian m.
There is no stability. Everyone is unbalanced and no one is ever truly sure of their actions. Everything is a puzzle and the only way to feel like you solved it is to find your balance and stability and to finally be content with your work after knowing your comfort.
Diana Yakubova
is where horses live. At least they have a home. Unlike many people in the world. I have it better than most, at least. I live in America.
Karen
I, as a person, have chosen to pursue intelligence and good looks. I agree, that perhaps they may not be the two best choices, but I picked them. Subconsciously. And to my great regret, because those are the two I picked, I’ve lost my emotional stability. If you had a choice, what two would *you* pick? Intelligence, good looks, or emotional stability? Too bad that you don’t have a choice. You made it a long time ago. And it’s not exactly something you can change your mind about.
I may not be the most emotionally-stable person; hell, I know I’m not. I’m unreasonable, over-reactive, and pissy. And yet you stay by my side unconditionally. You are my hero, my strength, my go-to, my stability. I love you.
Fred liked to kick in doors. Not just any doors but particularly the doors of police stations and army barracks. When he wasn’t doing that and getting arrested, he liked to find the houses of the toughest guys in the neighbourhood and throw rocks through their windows. He knew that it wasn’t rational behaviour, but Fred still considered himself relatively stable for a vicar from a small parish.
If he would have been able to see himself at those times when he was unstable, he would have wished for nothing more than to attain the opposite. Now that he has, there’s nothing more that he wants than to never go back to the un side of life.
She cast a glance over her shoulder, and then the lights overhead went out. Hannah took a deep breath, waited. The hospital had backup generators. The lights would come back on.
Things in life are always changing, always different, always terrifying. Nothing stays the same for very long. There is nothing you can do about that. You have to keep going, ignoring the changes that happen. You just have to find that one person that’s always stable.
I leaned on the table as I shoveled food into my mouth, and it inched farther back as the legs jiggled. The massive oak table creaked as it hit its interlocking joints, and I put my feet up onto the bar and leaned back against the chair as soon as my stomach had caught up with my huge eyes. From the other side of the table, Rose kicked me, and when I didn’t sit up quick enough to satisfy, I earned another kick. Shrike was next to me, and her hot breathe stuck itself to the inside of my earlobe. “Get your feet of this table, it is not a horses stable!” she hissed, quiet enough for only me to hear, but it was loud and clear to me, it rang in my ears like the clock that woke me up every dawn.
An interesting convergence to consider: the word “stable” means both, ‘without change’ and ‘a place where horses are kept.’ How did the possession of horses come to represent the absence of change? Could it be related to the rise of steam power and the locomotive’s subsequent replacement of horsepower? Along that line of thought, mechanization and a shift in the methods of producing energy would leave many horses, once the combustion in the engine that turned the gears that pumped water from wells and carried men across country, in stasis in stables. A man with many unused horses in his stable was a man who had converted to other forms of locomotion. As well, he may be said to have converted to all other tendencies that come with industrialization: mechanization, a progressive view of time and, most importantly, standardization. The desuetude of the horse was, commensurately, the acceptance of the pasteurization of humanity; of the regular, standard stability that torments some hearts, wild stallions at the core.
Stable, I’m not, but horses stay in them, and the table is stable since I put the matchbook under the leg. Stable, Gable and I’m able, not stable.
david
What makes someone stable? Having a stable job? Having a stable income? Having a stable family life? I don’t really know… It also makes me think of a horses stable. Which makes me want to go riding which I haven’t done in far too long.
I’m watching The Soloist. I can’t believe I’ve never seen this before. It’s kind of interesting to think that with such an unstable mind, music is the one thing that makes him feel stable.
stable like a table
like a fable
without the meaningless
meanings
filtering the choices i’ve made
boxing them into small portions
seperating the poor
from the
rich,
dreamy thoughts i indulge in daily.
Hailey
it is about time i find something of stability. i have been searching for far too long in order to find something conventional in my life. a sturdy relationship, a possible job and the grades i have been longing for.. in contempt of these achievements, it is still a shame what has been lost in order to get here.
Makes me think of horses. And now all I want to do is go to a stable and go horse back riding haha. Or just pet the horses and give them carrots and other food and tell them how pretty they are (:
Cassandra Harwood
well horses live there. & i guess tables are pretty stable. hey that rhymed! oh well. but yeah. horses are cool. i like them. i have ridden one before. STABLE. right. uhm.. well.. it like no unstable (: haha i guess. that works right?
yeahhhhh
Emily
Odd how we house horses in an object whose name is supposed to denote tranquility. Perhaps that’s an attempt to control their behavior and thus our own.
A mere cephalopod
She’s anything but. And God, how it shows. She’s crying on the floor, she’s slashing at her thighs. She’s laughing, she’s smiling, maybe she’s better– nope, back to the floor.
IT was a bitter cold night, the winter spirits causing frostbite to any patch of exposed skin possible. A young couple froze together, only their wool robes a shield against the biting freeze. Whoever they asked for shelter would claim maximum occupancy, and shut the door into their pink noses. The couple finally found a stable, a smelly manger, filled with straw. It was a humble dwelling, but it would do.
Mary
One day, I go to stable. i see a cat and he was running after another cat. I tried to rescue the second cat, but the first felt on a cow. So, I ate the cow! There still time left.. so.. good night HAPPY CHRISTMAS
simon bouchard
It’s warm, in every sense of the word. The sweet smell of hay, and the damp bodies of horses, who has just left the evergreen fields. Big, friendly creatures, munching, munching. The one place I can cease to be human for a little while.
Our life is a balancing act. You act, I react– often not equally or in opposition. Your love throws me off balance when all I long for is your strength to keep me stable.
Joseph was irritated by the gaudiness of it all. His return to Bethelehem was not what he expected it would be. Four years earlier, he was a no-one. Well, he was still a no-one, but his son…his son. Not quite *his* son, was he? Bethelehem hadn’t been the same since. Aside from the loss of all the first-born males, which the more radical left-wing fraternity had cited as being useful in opening up private school places to the less-well off, whose first-borns had died of disease years earlier; aside from that, the town had moved up a notch in the tourism rankings, and with it, came the tat. He didn’t mind so much the figurines of himself and Mary and the Donkey, but the ‘Glowing Jesus’ which rotated with a candle inside it, and the ‘wobbling Joseph’ he found irritating and… just terrible. If it weren’t for the taxes, he wouldn’t come here at all. He’d found it difficult to get a hotel room the first time they tried it back then. Now, at Christmas time, it was quite impossible. And ‘Stable accommodation’ was even more sought after that plain old-fashioned digs. He was beginning to regret his part in this whole agreement to bring up the Messiah, since he didn’t even seem to get the recognition either. It was all Mary, or all Jesus…poor Joseph seemed to be a hanger-on in this particular story.
It was time to change things. He would start by dealing with the Dancing Jesus. Utter trash. And there was one place for trash. Picking up the nearby ‘Joseph’s Holy Staff’, on sale for just three denarii, (and the one thing in the shop that did acknowledge his presence at all) lifted it up above his head, pausing briefly, as if unsure whether to complete his act.
“You going to pay for that?”
“Do you know who you are talking to?”
“No. Should I?” the vendor sneered. That sealed the deal for Joseph. That Dancing Jesus would be dancing no longer.
i wish i could be in a stable relationship are just in a relationship i wish i could keep my feet on the ground and stay stable i just want to be stable in life just for once
taylor p
I am not stable. I am constantly moving, parts of me and parts of everything swirling and twisting and never quite matching up. I am energy in motion, I am low and high and right and left and everything.
Amanda
Stable. What a strange words. To me i was unstable. People would say I’m just saying to get attention, but no. i don’t think I’m stable at all.
After a rough ride (again) in the van, Jensen felt the vehicle come to a stop. In the instant after the doors were opened, he heard a horse snort and whiny. “Jesus, they’ve brought me to a stable.”
The stable was full of horses, brown ones, red roans, black ones- but the most striking horse in the place was a beautiful white stallion. He stood proudly inside his little stall, looking completely out of place against all of the other horses- the destrier was much too nicely bred for a little place like this stable.
Rogue
I wish I were stable. Don’t you? Cause you’re not. None of us are. Stability would be unique beyond recognition. No one is stable. I want to be stable because being different is now being the same. You suck.
Slive
The rickety chair wobbled and fell over with a crash, so the lady sat on the ground. It was much more stable.
there once was a horse living in a stable. the stable was painted red and the horse loved the stable. every day, a girl came to visit the stable. the stable was a magical place where you could feel what you really felt and be who you really were.
Sandra
It was the time of year when everybody deserved a gift, not just any gift, but one that was exquisitely perfect for them, as if the bearer had gazed into the shimmering soul of the receiver and been able to glimpse just what would bring that giggle of sheer joy. Every parent knew the experience of seeking, and hopefully finding that gift, and of course hoping that it wouldn’t come at too dear a price.
There was one little boy, known as J, who found himself watching intently as the other children around the neighbourhood gathered round to whisper about the gifts they thought they might receive, showing off pairs of roller skates, jars of liquorice and other wonderful boxes wrapped in ribbon and sparkling tape. Every time he wandered hopefully into the kitchen where his mother baked, casting a glance towards his father’s perpetual sawing, and thought this time would be different. Today was the day.
“Mother”, he mused hopefully, standing at the window, “It’s the season of giving again, I hear…”
“Oh son”, she sighed with a satisfied smile, and he knew. He knew that old excuse was coming again. “You’re the gift to the world.”
No. He wasn’t going to be talked out of gifts again with that. Not this year.
When i see the word stable i think about horses horses mean rodeo rodeo means cowboys cowboys mean mexico mexico means food-lol and food makes me hungry si im leavin to go eat peace out lil homies lol bye bye :-)
Larry Sims
I wish I had a horse stable with lots of horsies, but my mother and father always fought, so I never had a horse. I never had a family, really. I’ve pretty much only had myself, my whole life. At 17 years old, I’ve learned some hard lessons. And all the hate I’ve seen, I don’t know how I love a single soul.
Slive
Stable
“For once,” she exclaimed, “I am in a stable relationship. Keep your nose out of my business. Every time you get around me and a boyfriend, you butt your stinkin’ nose in and mess things up. Not this time. Not this time!”
Slide back then step forward, falling like a drunk cat in a crooked stable. This is the dance that keeps the creepies at the red line wondering why the cloudy sky is in their pants. Then look around to see the hunger of the horny people devour the serenity of those speechless lame ones.
that reminds me of a horse thing where they keep horses and a person that is strong. i remember i was not ver ystable when my grandma died. and one day i saw dr. martin luther king give a speech and the word stable just popped into my head
There is no stability. Everyone is unbalanced and no one is ever truly sure of their actions. Everything is a puzzle and the only way to feel like you solved it is to find your balance and stability and to finally be content with your work after knowing your comfort.
is where horses live. At least they have a home. Unlike many people in the world. I have it better than most, at least. I live in America.
I, as a person, have chosen to pursue intelligence and good looks. I agree, that perhaps they may not be the two best choices, but I picked them. Subconsciously. And to my great regret, because those are the two I picked, I’ve lost my emotional stability. If you had a choice, what two would *you* pick? Intelligence, good looks, or emotional stability? Too bad that you don’t have a choice. You made it a long time ago. And it’s not exactly something you can change your mind about.
I may not be the most emotionally-stable person; hell, I know I’m not. I’m unreasonable, over-reactive, and pissy. And yet you stay by my side unconditionally. You are my hero, my strength, my go-to, my stability. I love you.
Fred liked to kick in doors. Not just any doors but particularly the doors of police stations and army barracks. When he wasn’t doing that and getting arrested, he liked to find the houses of the toughest guys in the neighbourhood and throw rocks through their windows. He knew that it wasn’t rational behaviour, but Fred still considered himself relatively stable for a vicar from a small parish.
If he would have been able to see himself at those times when he was unstable, he would have wished for nothing more than to attain the opposite. Now that he has, there’s nothing more that he wants than to never go back to the un side of life.
“Stable!” Hannah shouted.
No one replied.
She cast a glance over her shoulder, and then the lights overhead went out. Hannah took a deep breath, waited. The hospital had backup generators. The lights would come back on.
Any moment now.
The ER was suddenly, impossibly, silent.
“Hello?” Hannah asked.
The man on the gurney sat up.
Things in life are always changing, always different, always terrifying. Nothing stays the same for very long. There is nothing you can do about that. You have to keep going, ignoring the changes that happen. You just have to find that one person that’s always stable.
I leaned on the table as I shoveled food into my mouth, and it inched farther back as the legs jiggled. The massive oak table creaked as it hit its interlocking joints, and I put my feet up onto the bar and leaned back against the chair as soon as my stomach had caught up with my huge eyes. From the other side of the table, Rose kicked me, and when I didn’t sit up quick enough to satisfy, I earned another kick. Shrike was next to me, and her hot breathe stuck itself to the inside of my earlobe. “Get your feet of this table, it is not a horses stable!” she hissed, quiet enough for only me to hear, but it was loud and clear to me, it rang in my ears like the clock that woke me up every dawn.
An interesting convergence to consider: the word “stable” means both, ‘without change’ and ‘a place where horses are kept.’ How did the possession of horses come to represent the absence of change? Could it be related to the rise of steam power and the locomotive’s subsequent replacement of horsepower? Along that line of thought, mechanization and a shift in the methods of producing energy would leave many horses, once the combustion in the engine that turned the gears that pumped water from wells and carried men across country, in stasis in stables. A man with many unused horses in his stable was a man who had converted to other forms of locomotion. As well, he may be said to have converted to all other tendencies that come with industrialization: mechanization, a progressive view of time and, most importantly, standardization. The desuetude of the horse was, commensurately, the acceptance of the pasteurization of humanity; of the regular, standard stability that torments some hearts, wild stallions at the core.
a stable is a place for horses and pigs,chickens,dogs,goats,cows and cats.and even rabbits!
Stable, I’m not, but horses stay in them, and the table is stable since I put the matchbook under the leg. Stable, Gable and I’m able, not stable.
What makes someone stable? Having a stable job? Having a stable income? Having a stable family life? I don’t really know… It also makes me think of a horses stable. Which makes me want to go riding which I haven’t done in far too long.
I’m watching The Soloist. I can’t believe I’ve never seen this before. It’s kind of interesting to think that with such an unstable mind, music is the one thing that makes him feel stable.
stable like a table
like a fable
without the meaningless
meanings
filtering the choices i’ve made
boxing them into small portions
seperating the poor
from the
rich,
dreamy thoughts i indulge in daily.
it is about time i find something of stability. i have been searching for far too long in order to find something conventional in my life. a sturdy relationship, a possible job and the grades i have been longing for.. in contempt of these achievements, it is still a shame what has been lost in order to get here.
Makes me think of horses. And now all I want to do is go to a stable and go horse back riding haha. Or just pet the horses and give them carrots and other food and tell them how pretty they are (:
well horses live there. & i guess tables are pretty stable. hey that rhymed! oh well. but yeah. horses are cool. i like them. i have ridden one before. STABLE. right. uhm.. well.. it like no unstable (: haha i guess. that works right?
yeahhhhh
Odd how we house horses in an object whose name is supposed to denote tranquility. Perhaps that’s an attempt to control their behavior and thus our own.
She’s anything but. And God, how it shows. She’s crying on the floor, she’s slashing at her thighs. She’s laughing, she’s smiling, maybe she’s better– nope, back to the floor.
IT was a bitter cold night, the winter spirits causing frostbite to any patch of exposed skin possible. A young couple froze together, only their wool robes a shield against the biting freeze. Whoever they asked for shelter would claim maximum occupancy, and shut the door into their pink noses. The couple finally found a stable, a smelly manger, filled with straw. It was a humble dwelling, but it would do.
One day, I go to stable. i see a cat and he was running after another cat. I tried to rescue the second cat, but the first felt on a cow. So, I ate the cow! There still time left.. so.. good night HAPPY CHRISTMAS
It’s warm, in every sense of the word. The sweet smell of hay, and the damp bodies of horses, who has just left the evergreen fields. Big, friendly creatures, munching, munching. The one place I can cease to be human for a little while.
Our life is a balancing act. You act, I react– often not equally or in opposition. Your love throws me off balance when all I long for is your strength to keep me stable.
Jesus was born in a stable. Or was it a manger? No, he was born in the stable and his mother laid him in the manger. Wrapped in swaddling clothes.
Joseph was irritated by the gaudiness of it all. His return to Bethelehem was not what he expected it would be. Four years earlier, he was a no-one. Well, he was still a no-one, but his son…his son. Not quite *his* son, was he? Bethelehem hadn’t been the same since. Aside from the loss of all the first-born males, which the more radical left-wing fraternity had cited as being useful in opening up private school places to the less-well off, whose first-borns had died of disease years earlier; aside from that, the town had moved up a notch in the tourism rankings, and with it, came the tat. He didn’t mind so much the figurines of himself and Mary and the Donkey, but the ‘Glowing Jesus’ which rotated with a candle inside it, and the ‘wobbling Joseph’ he found irritating and… just terrible. If it weren’t for the taxes, he wouldn’t come here at all. He’d found it difficult to get a hotel room the first time they tried it back then. Now, at Christmas time, it was quite impossible. And ‘Stable accommodation’ was even more sought after that plain old-fashioned digs. He was beginning to regret his part in this whole agreement to bring up the Messiah, since he didn’t even seem to get the recognition either. It was all Mary, or all Jesus…poor Joseph seemed to be a hanger-on in this particular story.
It was time to change things. He would start by dealing with the Dancing Jesus. Utter trash. And there was one place for trash. Picking up the nearby ‘Joseph’s Holy Staff’, on sale for just three denarii, (and the one thing in the shop that did acknowledge his presence at all) lifted it up above his head, pausing briefly, as if unsure whether to complete his act.
“You going to pay for that?”
“Do you know who you are talking to?”
“No. Should I?” the vendor sneered. That sealed the deal for Joseph. That Dancing Jesus would be dancing no longer.
i wish i could be in a stable relationship are just in a relationship i wish i could keep my feet on the ground and stay stable i just want to be stable in life just for once
I am not stable. I am constantly moving, parts of me and parts of everything swirling and twisting and never quite matching up. I am energy in motion, I am low and high and right and left and everything.
Stable. What a strange words. To me i was unstable. People would say I’m just saying to get attention, but no. i don’t think I’m stable at all.
After a rough ride (again) in the van, Jensen felt the vehicle come to a stop. In the instant after the doors were opened, he heard a horse snort and whiny. “Jesus, they’ve brought me to a stable.”
The stable was full of horses, brown ones, red roans, black ones- but the most striking horse in the place was a beautiful white stallion. He stood proudly inside his little stall, looking completely out of place against all of the other horses- the destrier was much too nicely bred for a little place like this stable.
I wish I were stable. Don’t you? Cause you’re not. None of us are. Stability would be unique beyond recognition. No one is stable. I want to be stable because being different is now being the same. You suck.
The rickety chair wobbled and fell over with a crash, so the lady sat on the ground. It was much more stable.
there once was a horse living in a stable. the stable was painted red and the horse loved the stable. every day, a girl came to visit the stable. the stable was a magical place where you could feel what you really felt and be who you really were.
It was the time of year when everybody deserved a gift, not just any gift, but one that was exquisitely perfect for them, as if the bearer had gazed into the shimmering soul of the receiver and been able to glimpse just what would bring that giggle of sheer joy. Every parent knew the experience of seeking, and hopefully finding that gift, and of course hoping that it wouldn’t come at too dear a price.
There was one little boy, known as J, who found himself watching intently as the other children around the neighbourhood gathered round to whisper about the gifts they thought they might receive, showing off pairs of roller skates, jars of liquorice and other wonderful boxes wrapped in ribbon and sparkling tape. Every time he wandered hopefully into the kitchen where his mother baked, casting a glance towards his father’s perpetual sawing, and thought this time would be different. Today was the day.
“Mother”, he mused hopefully, standing at the window, “It’s the season of giving again, I hear…”
“Oh son”, she sighed with a satisfied smile, and he knew. He knew that old excuse was coming again. “You’re the gift to the world.”
No. He wasn’t going to be talked out of gifts again with that. Not this year.
When i see the word stable i think about horses horses mean rodeo rodeo means cowboys cowboys mean mexico mexico means food-lol and food makes me hungry si im leavin to go eat peace out lil homies lol bye bye :-)
I wish I had a horse stable with lots of horsies, but my mother and father always fought, so I never had a horse. I never had a family, really. I’ve pretty much only had myself, my whole life. At 17 years old, I’ve learned some hard lessons. And all the hate I’ve seen, I don’t know how I love a single soul.
Stable
“For once,” she exclaimed, “I am in a stable relationship. Keep your nose out of my business. Every time you get around me and a boyfriend, you butt your stinkin’ nose in and mess things up. Not this time. Not this time!”