Eastern province in the sand is all we need to survive this land. Its the place to be to see all the friends who rest because they are there, far from the west but remember, if you go straight long enough you always end in the eastern province.
There was no light like eastern light, no haze like the sun through the thin air over the Tibetan Plateau as it shone over the endless brown ridges stretching out below them. She stood next to the motorcycle and set her helmet on the front of the sidecar.
“You look like you could live here,” he said.
“If I ever could stay in one place,” she replied, “This is what I wish I could call my home.”
I raised my hand up, and blocked out the sun with one hand. The sunrise was beautiful, but awfully bright, especially just waking up on the clean, dewy grass. She was laying next to me, still tossing in her sleep, and making little happy noises. I hope her dreams were good. Mine were. The sun couldn’t quite wake her up, so I gave her a little nudge, and she opened her eyes slowly, squinting up at me and smiling at the recollection of her dream.
She was eastern, or, should I say, from the east. So different from my family, my culture, my appearance, my anything. Her very bearing said she was elegant, cultured, better somehow. But I was not to know how much better for many years.
Holy cow. I have to write about Eastern? How about me living on the Eastern side of the state? Or how the sun rises in the East, which is important. We know that if the sun doesn’t rise, we’ll all be in a lot of trouble. I could see this being a good writing prompt.
eastern washington university
reminds me of home and all that came with it.
dust, ruins, tranquility and beauty
the spectrum is large and quite frankly this isn’t even about
eastern washington university
It’s all they talked about. Just how it was back then, back there. Why they had even wandered this way was unknown except for the vague notion of “opportunity.” We hated them as much as they condescended to us. This land put hair on the chest, chilled the blood a bit. Occasionally inspired awe in the most faithful of us.
It was important that we looked to the East whenever we prayed. In the mornings I would peel myself out of bed and anxiously postpone my routine to do the readings with my mother and my siblings. I suppose it never meant much to me, but I’m glad it did for Mom.
Eastern skylines and by lines
Of past experiences where the sun rises
Yet my soul has not set
That eastern flow of rivers and trees
Of snowfall on birch wood and
Fires in the fall
Head west they told me
When the east is what holds me
Time though for the east to become west
Eastern can have many definitions and connotations. It is, of course, the direction from which the sun rises, opposite western. However, the connotation of eastern is quite romantic.
When I was 21 I decided to go and study my final semester of undergrad abroad, in China. Lets look at what happened as an immediate chain of events connected to my eastern promise… A volcano erupted (this is by no mean a consequence of me going to China) and I missed my flight home, I was stranded for 17 days in Beijing one of the biggest busiest cities on the planet; I didn’t make it back to University on time to take my final exams, consequently I failed my degree – not so attractive to the afore mentioned employers.
I loved it.
I caught the travelling bug, I now am working my way around the world to see as much as possible – 1 particular experience taught me to grab the full bucket, with both hands, by the horns (I may be mixing metaphors here) and that is exactly what I am doing.
I no longer have any desire for the career I wanted before, and ultimately the one thing I did to further my life, has done just that; but in a way I least expected it too.
we kept driving, determined to see the sunrise over the lake, D- kept the peddle to the floor, hunched over the wheel like a madman, slugging coffee from the thermos clenched between his legs. i tried to
no not again. no no no non . nien nein nein. I hate it. i hate the sun i hate r=writing but ehyhrefdilubhf fhig kgh reigheroiugh reguheruioghioernvfr edfifbvgrf vfuisder feivgred i cahnt write im d darn darn ihate cgartdyhjbnigunbihrbntrigjbvrfnnbkljfbniufjbnfblrinbjj jfbviurbgvrui jrghiru urgvbri ruiegvre urg reuig uI hate you hatdveiughrijhbs jgbfdj rg this im no
The residents had shut thier windows. All stores were closed. Not a single light was on. There was not a single soul outside. For all was hiding . hiding from the Unknown. The unknown. Had ahautned the town for years, generations after generariton.
She looked west. It was dark and gloomy. East was much brighter. Still she wanted to go west, even with the bleak outlook, the limited hope, the disgusting gray brown color, that is exactly where she wanted to be.
Eastern time, Eastern standard time, well, what is the standard? How high is the bar? What bar in that beautiful eastern sky do I have to raise my eyes, my arms, my intentions and my works to meet and grasp?
eastern, waht a word and what a world, its perceived so bad in the western area of earth, and vice versa
let us forget this word and sides and live peace.
There is the eastern hemisphere of the world. That would include Asia. It would be often compared to the West which would include America. These two countries have opposed each other for years and continue to today. They are rivals in technology, industry, andf inance
A flavour of adventure. A painting in an exotic cave. Clothes that are loose and colorful. Peace at heart yet warring landscapes. Sweet and hot at the same time. Humid in its excellence. Forbidden.
Opposite of western, evokes the eastern part of our Earth. Makes me associate the word with Asian cultures and and Asian philosophies. Has a connotation of something exotic and foreign, adventurous and exciting.
Always they talked in terms of north and south, ignoring us in the east. Politics and business might divided on a north/south line but brewing was clearly east/west!
We didn’t know how many bombs had dropped by now, we didn’t care.
The sound of our footfalls became lost, the surrounding gunfire and brilliant explosions muted every sound of life this city once had.
I could only hear my breathing as we ran towards the Eastern sun.
It was all we knew, all that remained familar in the midst of the tatters and wreckage.
The tatters and wreckage that had once been our home.
All we had now was the East.
I drove. I had no thoughts, nothing to think about. All i knew was that I was heading east, by my own damn volition.
The screaming began to echo in my head. His words had been fierce, torches to my sensitive morale. I remember the fear falling from invisible heights and crashing down on me, suffocating me like the deadliest of serpents.
but fuck him. I was on my way to the eastern sun.
The Sun rise in the eastern sky once more and we were assured that life was granted to us one more day. Our car had struck an embankment and turn over. We were still strapped inside with no way of getting out, unless someone pass by to rescue us.
“Head east” he said, with the faintest hint of a smile. “Perhaps, if you’re lucky, you’ll seek what you’ve set out to find.” His green eyes twinkled in the moonlight, two more stars among the endless skies.
the eastern shore is filled with white sand because the sun always rises in the east and the light given off by the sun at the crack of dawn is unique something–some perfect combination of salt and water and sand and light and all these chemicals and bondings and things of that nature combine to create the softest, whitest sand you ever did see. People from all across the world come to experience this beach and namely the white sand.
I was fortunate enough to live within a 10 minute walk of this beach growing up as a child. One day when I was visiting home I decided to take a walk down to the beach. It was winter and surely no one would be there. The sand is still gorgeous in the winter but it still is a beach and doesn’t receive too many visitors in the colder months. I walked there to clear my head, gather my thoughts, be alone. To my surprise I saw a beautiful girl sitting on the miniature white sand dunes kissed by the wind crouched in a ball of blankets and sweatshirts. She turned and smiled at me. I was blown away–her beauty was unmatched, so pure and vivid. Her face was brighter and more serene than the famous sand itself.
Eastern bound I was. Not thinking of where I would stay. But I knew she would be there, waiting while I took the time to walk the streets. Eating my way up to Midtown, stopping at all the places we used to go. She would send me a text asking where I was, not knowing I happened to be at the coffee shop on the corner, waiting outside sucking on a cig.
Comparative Eastern Religions. I am in that class. It makes me angry, but it is supoosed to make me calm. What is wrong with me? All the belief in meditation and a supreme being. Just anger at the incompetence of others. The real thing about it though? I wish I believed.
my brothers and I always regarded my mom’s interest in eastern medicine with suspicion/dismissiveness. middle-aged white woman gets into acupuncture. recommending “dragon’s blood” tinctures, etc. not an uncommon story. it’s odd seeing a human you know turning into a stereotype. dad had been a stereotype for as long as i could remember.
She had never been to the Great Wall before and it was not what she had anticipated. Clarice was suppose to be with her, they had planned this trip for the both of them. Cherry blossoms, prayers and wishes in the form of tied paper promises in trees, bound feet, and the finest silk kimonos.
Captain Redfield used hus daggers edge to outline the route before my eyes. “His lordship will cover the eastern flank while I take the west. We’ll box the bastards in; between us and the sea, there’ll be nowhere left to run.”
“And what of myself, captain?” I asked.
“You, my lady, will strike with the Elite; straight to their heart.” he dug the knifes point into the map. “The final blow will be yours and yours alone.”
I couldn’t hekp but smile. “Excellent work, Cyrus.”
It’s a hard thing to get out of your mind when you watch other people go about their lives. They revel in their dreams, they talk about their goals, they tell you all about their lives and everything they hold inside. There’s so much to them, they have so much left to do, they seem so real.
But I never saw it that way. I never had that inside of myself. No dreams or talents to spin, no goals or hopes – just a vision of a strong drink and the sun barely touching the eastern sky, a cool morning, quiet, with my thoughts.
Eastern was an airline company, back in the day, when my husband flew coast-to-coast to attend numerous company meetings. Their mileage program melded into another, yielding opportunities to travel free to visit our families for many a year. From California we flew…Eastern.
Far in the distance, the sun rose slowly above the horizon. Christina skipped lightly over the small pebbles that lined the river and threaded bravely upon the tall grasses. Tim followed close behind her. Both of them finally stopped to gaze at the sunrise… It was beautiful.
Eastern province in the sand is all we need to survive this land. Its the place to be to see all the friends who rest because they are there, far from the west but remember, if you go straight long enough you always end in the eastern province.
There was no light like eastern light, no haze like the sun through the thin air over the Tibetan Plateau as it shone over the endless brown ridges stretching out below them. She stood next to the motorcycle and set her helmet on the front of the sidecar.
“You look like you could live here,” he said.
“If I ever could stay in one place,” she replied, “This is what I wish I could call my home.”
I raised my hand up, and blocked out the sun with one hand. The sunrise was beautiful, but awfully bright, especially just waking up on the clean, dewy grass. She was laying next to me, still tossing in her sleep, and making little happy noises. I hope her dreams were good. Mine were. The sun couldn’t quite wake her up, so I gave her a little nudge, and she opened her eyes slowly, squinting up at me and smiling at the recollection of her dream.
She was eastern, or, should I say, from the east. So different from my family, my culture, my appearance, my anything. Her very bearing said she was elegant, cultured, better somehow. But I was not to know how much better for many years.
Holy cow. I have to write about Eastern? How about me living on the Eastern side of the state? Or how the sun rises in the East, which is important. We know that if the sun doesn’t rise, we’ll all be in a lot of trouble. I could see this being a good writing prompt.
eastern washington university
reminds me of home and all that came with it.
dust, ruins, tranquility and beauty
the spectrum is large and quite frankly this isn’t even about
eastern washington university
It’s all they talked about. Just how it was back then, back there. Why they had even wandered this way was unknown except for the vague notion of “opportunity.” We hated them as much as they condescended to us. This land put hair on the chest, chilled the blood a bit. Occasionally inspired awe in the most faithful of us.
It was important that we looked to the East whenever we prayed. In the mornings I would peel myself out of bed and anxiously postpone my routine to do the readings with my mother and my siblings. I suppose it never meant much to me, but I’m glad it did for Mom.
Eastern skylines and by lines
Of past experiences where the sun rises
Yet my soul has not set
That eastern flow of rivers and trees
Of snowfall on birch wood and
Fires in the fall
Head west they told me
When the east is what holds me
Time though for the east to become west
Eastern can have many definitions and connotations. It is, of course, the direction from which the sun rises, opposite western. However, the connotation of eastern is quite romantic.
(//start)
modern
concern
western
northern
southern
discern
stern
yearn
fern
learn
churn
spurn
turn
burn
urn
(//stop)
When I was 21 I decided to go and study my final semester of undergrad abroad, in China. Lets look at what happened as an immediate chain of events connected to my eastern promise… A volcano erupted (this is by no mean a consequence of me going to China) and I missed my flight home, I was stranded for 17 days in Beijing one of the biggest busiest cities on the planet; I didn’t make it back to University on time to take my final exams, consequently I failed my degree – not so attractive to the afore mentioned employers.
I loved it.
I caught the travelling bug, I now am working my way around the world to see as much as possible – 1 particular experience taught me to grab the full bucket, with both hands, by the horns (I may be mixing metaphors here) and that is exactly what I am doing.
I no longer have any desire for the career I wanted before, and ultimately the one thing I did to further my life, has done just that; but in a way I least expected it too.
we kept driving, determined to see the sunrise over the lake, D- kept the peddle to the floor, hunched over the wheel like a madman, slugging coffee from the thermos clenched between his legs. i tried to
when you left for the US
i thought the sun would start
rising from the west
no not again. no no no non . nien nein nein. I hate it. i hate the sun i hate r=writing but ehyhrefdilubhf fhig kgh reigheroiugh reguheruioghioernvfr edfifbvgrf vfuisder feivgred i cahnt write im d darn darn ihate cgartdyhjbnigunbihrbntrigjbvrfnnbkljfbniufjbnfblrinbjj jfbviurbgvrui jrghiru urgvbri ruiegvre urg reuig uI hate you hatdveiughrijhbs jgbfdj rg this im no
The residents had shut thier windows. All stores were closed. Not a single light was on. There was not a single soul outside. For all was hiding . hiding from the Unknown. The unknown. Had ahautned the town for years, generations after generariton.
She looked west. It was dark and gloomy. East was much brighter. Still she wanted to go west, even with the bleak outlook, the limited hope, the disgusting gray brown color, that is exactly where she wanted to be.
the eastern lights look down at us, and I smile back at him
his hand is in mine and I can feel his pulse
rhythmical
musical
magical
the same beat as mine, and we’re intertwined
together
the eastern lights look down at us
and we’re happy
together
Eastern time, Eastern standard time, well, what is the standard? How high is the bar? What bar in that beautiful eastern sky do I have to raise my eyes, my arms, my intentions and my works to meet and grasp?
eastern, waht a word and what a world, its perceived so bad in the western area of earth, and vice versa
let us forget this word and sides and live peace.
There is the eastern hemisphere of the world. That would include Asia. It would be often compared to the West which would include America. These two countries have opposed each other for years and continue to today. They are rivals in technology, industry, andf inance
A flavour of adventure. A painting in an exotic cave. Clothes that are loose and colorful. Peace at heart yet warring landscapes. Sweet and hot at the same time. Humid in its excellence. Forbidden.
Opposite of western, evokes the eastern part of our Earth. Makes me associate the word with Asian cultures and and Asian philosophies. Has a connotation of something exotic and foreign, adventurous and exciting.
Always they talked in terms of north and south, ignoring us in the east. Politics and business might divided on a north/south line but brewing was clearly east/west!
We didn’t know how many bombs had dropped by now, we didn’t care.
The sound of our footfalls became lost, the surrounding gunfire and brilliant explosions muted every sound of life this city once had.
I could only hear my breathing as we ran towards the Eastern sun.
It was all we knew, all that remained familar in the midst of the tatters and wreckage.
The tatters and wreckage that had once been our home.
All we had now was the East.
I love to travel. Many places we have visited like Thailand and Bali have been our favourites. Eastern countries are always fascinating.
I drove. I had no thoughts, nothing to think about. All i knew was that I was heading east, by my own damn volition.
The screaming began to echo in my head. His words had been fierce, torches to my sensitive morale. I remember the fear falling from invisible heights and crashing down on me, suffocating me like the deadliest of serpents.
but fuck him. I was on my way to the eastern sun.
The Sun rise in the eastern sky once more and we were assured that life was granted to us one more day. Our car had struck an embankment and turn over. We were still strapped inside with no way of getting out, unless someone pass by to rescue us.
“Head east” he said, with the faintest hint of a smile. “Perhaps, if you’re lucky, you’ll seek what you’ve set out to find.” His green eyes twinkled in the moonlight, two more stars among the endless skies.
the eastern shore is filled with white sand because the sun always rises in the east and the light given off by the sun at the crack of dawn is unique something–some perfect combination of salt and water and sand and light and all these chemicals and bondings and things of that nature combine to create the softest, whitest sand you ever did see. People from all across the world come to experience this beach and namely the white sand.
I was fortunate enough to live within a 10 minute walk of this beach growing up as a child. One day when I was visiting home I decided to take a walk down to the beach. It was winter and surely no one would be there. The sand is still gorgeous in the winter but it still is a beach and doesn’t receive too many visitors in the colder months. I walked there to clear my head, gather my thoughts, be alone. To my surprise I saw a beautiful girl sitting on the miniature white sand dunes kissed by the wind crouched in a ball of blankets and sweatshirts. She turned and smiled at me. I was blown away–her beauty was unmatched, so pure and vivid. Her face was brighter and more serene than the famous sand itself.
Who was this girl, I’ll never know…
Eastern bound I was. Not thinking of where I would stay. But I knew she would be there, waiting while I took the time to walk the streets. Eating my way up to Midtown, stopping at all the places we used to go. She would send me a text asking where I was, not knowing I happened to be at the coffee shop on the corner, waiting outside sucking on a cig.
Comparative Eastern Religions. I am in that class. It makes me angry, but it is supoosed to make me calm. What is wrong with me? All the belief in meditation and a supreme being. Just anger at the incompetence of others. The real thing about it though? I wish I believed.
eggs, rabbit, red, colors,
my brothers and I always regarded my mom’s interest in eastern medicine with suspicion/dismissiveness. middle-aged white woman gets into acupuncture. recommending “dragon’s blood” tinctures, etc. not an uncommon story. it’s odd seeing a human you know turning into a stereotype. dad had been a stereotype for as long as i could remember.
Dawn broke over the eastern horizon, striking our dirty faces with shafts of bright, pinkish light.
She had never been to the Great Wall before and it was not what she had anticipated. Clarice was suppose to be with her, they had planned this trip for the both of them. Cherry blossoms, prayers and wishes in the form of tied paper promises in trees, bound feet, and the finest silk kimonos.
Captain Redfield used hus daggers edge to outline the route before my eyes. “His lordship will cover the eastern flank while I take the west. We’ll box the bastards in; between us and the sea, there’ll be nowhere left to run.”
“And what of myself, captain?” I asked.
“You, my lady, will strike with the Elite; straight to their heart.” he dug the knifes point into the map. “The final blow will be yours and yours alone.”
I couldn’t hekp but smile. “Excellent work, Cyrus.”
It’s a hard thing to get out of your mind when you watch other people go about their lives. They revel in their dreams, they talk about their goals, they tell you all about their lives and everything they hold inside. There’s so much to them, they have so much left to do, they seem so real.
But I never saw it that way. I never had that inside of myself. No dreams or talents to spin, no goals or hopes – just a vision of a strong drink and the sun barely touching the eastern sky, a cool morning, quiet, with my thoughts.
Eastern was an airline company, back in the day, when my husband flew coast-to-coast to attend numerous company meetings. Their mileage program melded into another, yielding opportunities to travel free to visit our families for many a year. From California we flew…Eastern.
Far in the distance, the sun rose slowly above the horizon. Christina skipped lightly over the small pebbles that lined the river and threaded bravely upon the tall grasses. Tim followed close behind her. Both of them finally stopped to gaze at the sunrise… It was beautiful.