disgust - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
If I am disgusted I can't help it, it's an emotion we can all feel. What disgusts you? Why don't you listen to that little voice of repulsion. Maybe, just maybe, it's there for a reason. So tell me child, what makes your skin crawl? What makes you scared of the dark? What is repellant to you? Then ask yourself, do you watch that very thing in movies? Do you enjoy watching it? Why? Be honest with yourself and I guarantee you won't like the answer, whatever it is.
If I had a hundred of my own lives to pay for the needy of this world I would live them, but just one at a time. If I could pay some price to heal the world it would be a no-brainer to hand it over. But this world is priceless, just like the life of every child, so what price can be paid? I see you take the money and run, kill a planet future lives depend on, your own future kin. I can't respect that. I am disgusted by anyone who trashes a planet this god damn beautiful, a planet God made. So, I have bottled it this long because I love you so god damn much, but please, please, let's move a little ass and save our mother Earth.
Sometimes good guys carry flowers, sometimes they must protect themselves, somethings they protect those they love. You disgust me in your glee to save yourself, to let another suffer in your stead. Is it alright to live in “heaven” while black children starve and muslim children die in bombing raids? Do children pay the price of an adult's evil deeds, do they? That isn't a question; read the news. You want my love, earn it. Children get it as a birthright, do your best and it is still yours, look the other way and I must start to triage, to prioritize the most vulnerable first. By all means pray, but I think you'll find food parcels and medications are more effective at this point in time. I want to see some Dutch courage; I want to see you proud of your own actions, because one day we will meet.
I see you and my insides curdle like milk with lemon. You are the acid in what otherwise would be so heavenly. You revolt me. I will never look on you again. I will never whisper words of love to you again. We're done. Done. Done.
If you come near me you'll see my sneer. I saw what you did, I saw it. No detail misses my eye, ever, and you knew I would beat you in the end. You could have turned over a new leaf at any time, yet you did not. The sight of you makes me sick from the ends of my hair to the nails on my toes. I don't come to hate easily, but I know evil when I see it. I know. It breaks me to give up on you more than you will ever know. Yet to save what is good, I need no permission from any man and I never did.
Mac opened the next envelope, brown like most of the others, no distinguishing features and tipped the contents onto his desk. It was a photograph of him taking his niece to the park last Saturday and with it a note "How delicate and vulnerable children are, don't you think??" In a subconscious gesture of disgust his nose wrinkled and he drew his head backwards. What little colour he had drained and the pear drop remained quite stationary on his tongue. It was a threat and a jibe in one. Gregor must be too sick to know what's going on. Never before had these tactics been used. Whoever pulled the punches in his mob now was a monster, one he would catch.
Gina walked up the bloody mess on the floor that had been her adversary. He was grotesque. Already his eyes were swollen over and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. He was now as revolting as he should be, finally the outside reflects the man within. This cockroach of the law who prevented medicine reaching the sick, who tracked down hard working families who do no more than deliver people what they really want, lies foul in his own fluids. Even if he makes it these scars will be forever. With a wrinkled nose she took a step backwards, it was tempting to whisper something in his ear, that he was broken and she had won, but what was the point. He'd be lucky to remember his own name. She dialled for an ambulance herself, maiming a cop doesn't bring down nearly the same heat as killing one, and this way his walking disfigured face would be a living reminder to his colleagues of what happens to those who mess with Gregor's daughter.
As Iksha thought of her brother's betrayal her lipped curled and her nostrils flared. Her mind felt as if lead were coursing though it instead of blood. Her once sunny childhood memories of him now felt as if they were tarred, disfigured into something grotesque. She kept her gaze off him, she couldn't bare to look his way, because if they made eye contact she thought she might vomit. Disgust. Total disgust.