The pressure was mounting. Of all the people in his village, the elders had selected him. The process was unclear, whether by right or ritual or by the Gods. Luce wasn’t the smartest. He didn’t hunt the best. He was never the worst, and yet, here he was, in front of his people with a staff in hand and a cape draped around his neck. It was him.
He was the chosen one. The one who would save the world. How did he wind up being the chosen one? Well, he certainly did not know but now he knew that he would do what was necessary. Even if it meant giving up everything and everyone he loved. He could see the men approaching and he knew that…
Chosen. It is one of those words that carries a lot of weight. It comes with the expectation of honor, of purity, or being exceptional; worthy. It marks one as elevated in the community — one who serves a greater purpose; a higher calling.
Until it doesn’t. Until one falls or fails or doesn’t quite measure up to the legends in everyone’s mind which chosen are supposed to be. Like I did.
chosen like buffy; the fight and the gift, just a letter and a few scrambles away from being the same. but death was the gift that got taken back, and so the world could keep breathing through a few more nightmares. she was not concealed; she was not taken; she was not won over. she was simply chosen.
“I’m sorry. You’ve been chosen. You cannot go to school today. You have to come with us to the Land Beyond Dreams.”
Finally! The beings beyond reality had realized that I didn’t belong in this world, and come to bring me to some henceforth unknown land, where I would mysteriously be the heir to the throne!
As if reading my thoughts, the elf said, “Sorry. You see, we need a human ritual sacrifice once every millennium…”
I’m not sure if this is the outfit I should have chosen, I thought to myself. I wanted to pick something that would be definitely fashionable, yet modest. Yet, as I looked around, I found quickly that fashion in New York was very different from fashion in LA. And modesty was probably not cool anywhere.
“She was the chosen one,” they said, “born to save His people.” But she wasn’t. She knew she had never been chosen for anything. There was another, she knew, who was on his way whom He chose. But he had not come yet. We are all still waiting.
“She was the chosen one. Born to save His people,” they said. But she wasn’t. She had never been chosen for anything. There was another, she knew, who He chose and who would save. But he had not come yet. We are still waiting.
Something about being picked, being the one. I want to be that choice fruit you lift from the display, that perfect shirt that stands out on the rack, that left turn you make instead of right. Instead, I’m the bruised fruit at the back of the shelf, the ripped sweater hidden behind the scarves, the right turn that is shadowed, slightly less perfect than the left turn. I want to be chosen and I’m not.
We are all chosen for something. No matter what you think, you’re important. Even if your super power is something small, that doesn’t matter. Just know that you’re always important, you were chosen for something.
They were chosen. All of them. None was more important. Everyone had their purpose, and everyone was important. That was what mattered, and it was all they needed to know.
The chosen one. I stare at the blazing words on the scrap of paper. No, no! This can’t be. I’m supposed to stay home on the farm and help me da. Not be shipped off halfway around the world in search of a legend on the slim chance that it could save our country. What was the girl thinking?
I had been chosen. The idea was terrifying, thrilling, soul crushing. I had no idea I was even eligible for this particular kind of task. How had my name come into the list of candidates? My heart thundered, my head was humming. It was more than I could imagine.
Selected. Special. Noticed. That’s how she was supposed to feel. But instead she just felt singled out for a responsibility she wasn’t capable of fulfilling. The pressure was a lot, but the attention was even more.
I wonder all the time why my life had to turn out the way it did. I feel like I wasn’t even chosen, just plopped down into this twisted world with a dysfunctional family. And that’s what scares me the most: what if I wasn’t chosen? What if I’m just another thing to take up space? What if I have no real purpose here?
These thoughts are dangerous, because they do nothing but encourage me to be selfish.
They talk about a “chosen one” like it’s something real and solid. I don’t know how people can walk so blindly into the world, holding only their faith. I don’t understand how strongly they cling to these fleeting beliefs.
It is as cliche as it sounds, but I would, and I will, always choose you. Over anyone, over anything. Not from the beginning, no. I didn’t feel about you that way then. But now, as we take a step to something that’s new and exciting, I know I will choose you. And you don’t have to say the same, if you’re not ready. I know it already.
Chosen
Chosen people
Chosen choice
Chosen place
YOU CAN CHOOSE
Drink all the booze
YOU ARE FREE
Free to be glee.
Fuck if you are chosen or not
Its a lie it don’t exist
YOU SHOULD KNOW
YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHOOSE
She has chosen me. Me, over anyone else. I have no idea how it happened, but the thought makes me giddy, and insanely happy. After all the shit we went through, she still decided to choose me.
I tried to figure out how it was that I was chosen. I mean, after I was tired of trying to figure out where I was, who had taken me, how I might escape, and a thousand other things. I set to working out my whole life, everything I could remember, and trying to isolate every single element that made me different or unique or superlative, or even more good or evil than other people. Of course, there was always the chance that it was random…
Many are called but few are chosen. To be chosen can be a stress because someone will not be chosen. However, when working toward a goal, to be your own ” chosen” can be motivating. Don’t wait to be chose on. Choose yourself. Be chosen.
Chosen, she was chosen. This was not one of the things on her mind as she raced through the forest, though. She needed shelter, food. She was chosen, and she had plenty of sponsors to pull her through. She knew that, but hated relying on other people. She wondered if her trainer was glaring at her for not asking for sponsors, or not. She hoped the latter. She hated being chosen.
I would have chosen you. Any day. Every time. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know. There’s no logic in it, is it? Why should I choose you, when you don’t even consider me as an option? But I still would. Choose you. You’re my choice. Always and forever.
Sometimes you know you’re not the chosen one, the one everyone looks up to or respects or loves. Some days you realize where you really stand in this large world and how insignificant you really are. I know its all about perspective but when your so little at home, what makes you think it would be different anywhere else?
Know that once you’ve made your choice, you can’t pick another. This is the the one that you’ll have for your whole life. Your entire spiritual existence will revolve around this object. Are you sure you’re ready?
Fhuksu had seen it clearly in her dream. This was the one.
She was exactly the person they needed for the job: clever, unconventional, and overwhelmingly precise. Her results were unmatched by any other in their database. And she was exactly the last person willing to do it.
You are always chosen at some stage to do something great in life. That’s what life’s about. Your heart will choose something you are great at, something you like to do and will do for the rest of your life.
I always thought she would chose me, that I would be the one for her because, for me, she was my chosen one, but i was wrong. Fate had other ideas in its mind and different ways ahead of us
“I am not the chosen one!” she screeched from atop her obsidian throne. “I am not here to save your race or people or planet from your own self-destructive ways!”
But they continued building the funeral pyre, their face red and gold from the paint, yet also pale from the moonlight. She gripped the armrests of the stone chair so hard that she cut her palms. The smell of her blood attracted the demons flying overhead.
The chosen one has awoken from his slumber!
Nuuuhhhh…Just joking.
There really isnt such a thing as the “chosen one”. Its just a theme Marvel likes to fool around with because they have no other creative bone in their body.
Unless..we are all the chosen one and the joke is on us????
“What a stupid article” thought Arnold to himself.
The pressure was mounting. Of all the people in his village, the elders had selected him. The process was unclear, whether by right or ritual or by the Gods. Luce wasn’t the smartest. He didn’t hunt the best. He was never the worst, and yet, here he was, in front of his people with a staff in hand and a cape draped around his neck. It was him.
He was the chosen one. The one who would save the world. How did he wind up being the chosen one? Well, he certainly did not know but now he knew that he would do what was necessary. Even if it meant giving up everything and everyone he loved. He could see the men approaching and he knew that…
Chosen. It is one of those words that carries a lot of weight. It comes with the expectation of honor, of purity, or being exceptional; worthy. It marks one as elevated in the community — one who serves a greater purpose; a higher calling.
Until it doesn’t. Until one falls or fails or doesn’t quite measure up to the legends in everyone’s mind which chosen are supposed to be. Like I did.
chosen like buffy; the fight and the gift, just a letter and a few scrambles away from being the same. but death was the gift that got taken back, and so the world could keep breathing through a few more nightmares. she was not concealed; she was not taken; she was not won over. she was simply chosen.
The elf blocked the door.
“I’m sorry. You’ve been chosen. You cannot go to school today. You have to come with us to the Land Beyond Dreams.”
Finally! The beings beyond reality had realized that I didn’t belong in this world, and come to bring me to some henceforth unknown land, where I would mysteriously be the heir to the throne!
As if reading my thoughts, the elf said, “Sorry. You see, we need a human ritual sacrifice once every millennium…”
I’m not sure if this is the outfit I should have chosen, I thought to myself. I wanted to pick something that would be definitely fashionable, yet modest. Yet, as I looked around, I found quickly that fashion in New York was very different from fashion in LA. And modesty was probably not cool anywhere.
“She was the chosen one,” they said, “born to save His people.” But she wasn’t. She knew she had never been chosen for anything. There was another, she knew, who was on his way whom He chose. But he had not come yet. We are all still waiting.
“She was the chosen one. Born to save His people,” they said. But she wasn’t. She had never been chosen for anything. There was another, she knew, who He chose and who would save. But he had not come yet. We are still waiting.
i like to make tacos and burritos but i have chosen not to make nachos
Something about being picked, being the one. I want to be that choice fruit you lift from the display, that perfect shirt that stands out on the rack, that left turn you make instead of right. Instead, I’m the bruised fruit at the back of the shelf, the ripped sweater hidden behind the scarves, the right turn that is shadowed, slightly less perfect than the left turn. I want to be chosen and I’m not.
We are all chosen for something. No matter what you think, you’re important. Even if your super power is something small, that doesn’t matter. Just know that you’re always important, you were chosen for something.
They were chosen. All of them. None was more important. Everyone had their purpose, and everyone was important. That was what mattered, and it was all they needed to know.
The chosen one. I stare at the blazing words on the scrap of paper. No, no! This can’t be. I’m supposed to stay home on the farm and help me da. Not be shipped off halfway around the world in search of a legend on the slim chance that it could save our country. What was the girl thinking?
I had been chosen. The idea was terrifying, thrilling, soul crushing. I had no idea I was even eligible for this particular kind of task. How had my name come into the list of candidates? My heart thundered, my head was humming. It was more than I could imagine.
I have chosen many opportunities to achieve my goal, But the last Opportunity made my success
I choose Digital science to do in MS but i ‘ll` learn programming while i am pursuing MS
Selected. Special. Noticed. That’s how she was supposed to feel. But instead she just felt singled out for a responsibility she wasn’t capable of fulfilling. The pressure was a lot, but the attention was even more.
I have chosen to try. To not give up no matter how much I feel that I can’t make it. Breath equals life and I chose to breath…deep.
Chosen by God to be His child in Jesus Christ trough Holy Spirit. Predestined .
I wonder all the time why my life had to turn out the way it did. I feel like I wasn’t even chosen, just plopped down into this twisted world with a dysfunctional family. And that’s what scares me the most: what if I wasn’t chosen? What if I’m just another thing to take up space? What if I have no real purpose here?
These thoughts are dangerous, because they do nothing but encourage me to be selfish.
They talk about a “chosen one” like it’s something real and solid. I don’t know how people can walk so blindly into the world, holding only their faith. I don’t understand how strongly they cling to these fleeting beliefs.
Faith must be a manipulative thing.
It is as cliche as it sounds, but I would, and I will, always choose you. Over anyone, over anything. Not from the beginning, no. I didn’t feel about you that way then. But now, as we take a step to something that’s new and exciting, I know I will choose you. And you don’t have to say the same, if you’re not ready. I know it already.
Chosen
Chosen people
Chosen choice
Chosen place
YOU CAN CHOOSE
Drink all the booze
YOU ARE FREE
Free to be glee.
Fuck if you are chosen or not
Its a lie it don’t exist
YOU SHOULD KNOW
YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHOOSE
She has chosen me. Me, over anyone else. I have no idea how it happened, but the thought makes me giddy, and insanely happy. After all the shit we went through, she still decided to choose me.
I tried to figure out how it was that I was chosen. I mean, after I was tired of trying to figure out where I was, who had taken me, how I might escape, and a thousand other things. I set to working out my whole life, everything I could remember, and trying to isolate every single element that made me different or unique or superlative, or even more good or evil than other people. Of course, there was always the chance that it was random…
Many are called but few are chosen. To be chosen can be a stress because someone will not be chosen. However, when working toward a goal, to be your own ” chosen” can be motivating. Don’t wait to be chose on. Choose yourself. Be chosen.
Chosen, she was chosen. This was not one of the things on her mind as she raced through the forest, though. She needed shelter, food. She was chosen, and she had plenty of sponsors to pull her through. She knew that, but hated relying on other people. She wondered if her trainer was glaring at her for not asking for sponsors, or not. She hoped the latter. She hated being chosen.
I would have chosen you. Any day. Every time. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know. There’s no logic in it, is it? Why should I choose you, when you don’t even consider me as an option? But I still would. Choose you. You’re my choice. Always and forever.
Sometimes you know you’re not the chosen one, the one everyone looks up to or respects or loves. Some days you realize where you really stand in this large world and how insignificant you really are. I know its all about perspective but when your so little at home, what makes you think it would be different anywhere else?
Know that once you’ve made your choice, you can’t pick another. This is the the one that you’ll have for your whole life. Your entire spiritual existence will revolve around this object. Are you sure you’re ready?
Fhuksu had seen it clearly in her dream. This was the one.
Have I chosen to see with my eyes wide
open?
She was exactly the person they needed for the job: clever, unconventional, and overwhelmingly precise. Her results were unmatched by any other in their database. And she was exactly the last person willing to do it.
I went to a restaurant and chosen a drink.
Yesterday, I went to a restaurant and chosen a drink.
You are always chosen at some stage to do something great in life. That’s what life’s about. Your heart will choose something you are great at, something you like to do and will do for the rest of your life.
Shano-o was chilling in his stubbies by the pool drink a ‘sport when all of a sudden a fuckin big ass angel dropped out of the sky.
“Aw fuck me” cried shan-o.
“No my son” the angel said. “Fuck me! You have been chosen!”
The chosen one. Being worthy enough to be picked. I think my mind just wants to think of similar words and Neo.
I always thought she would chose me, that I would be the one for her because, for me, she was my chosen one, but i was wrong. Fate had other ideas in its mind and different ways ahead of us
“I am not the chosen one!” she screeched from atop her obsidian throne. “I am not here to save your race or people or planet from your own self-destructive ways!”
But they continued building the funeral pyre, their face red and gold from the paint, yet also pale from the moonlight. She gripped the armrests of the stone chair so hard that she cut her palms. The smell of her blood attracted the demons flying overhead.
The chosen one has awoken from his slumber!
Nuuuhhhh…Just joking.
There really isnt such a thing as the “chosen one”. Its just a theme Marvel likes to fool around with because they have no other creative bone in their body.
Unless..we are all the chosen one and the joke is on us????
“What a stupid article” thought Arnold to himself.