I know the boys call you gay. And the girls call you pansy. I know and you know that they’re not wrong. But it’s okay. You are different. It’s allowed.
It’s unfair and it’s wrong. I know and you know. And you know what? They know it too.
He was a super trooper to me, the best of the whole dreary bunch. Sparkling blue eyes and the warmest smile like a whole bunch of summer sun descending upon my face. Of course my heart leapt at this and my conviction of his interest was consolidated. In the back of my mind i know everyone receives just the same smile, but i’ll leave this thought alone for now and deal with it later
He flew in with his jet pack roaring, his gun aimed high at the mothership. He was approaching a landing that would most likely break his legs. He knew the mission and he was going to stick to it.
Many things come to mind. First of all a state trooper and second of all someone who perseveres any task or challenge despite any type of difficulties which may include physical, mental, or emotional.
As the blood stung my eyes and breath caught in my throat, my thoughts momentarily diverted from the immense pain that coursed through my body – instead, one nagging, infuriated thought screamed in my brain: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Speed limits? I prefer to think of them as “speed suggestions”. And most of the time, I don’t TAKE suggestions. I do, however, check my mirrors for troopers as well as other vehicles. I am usually good about slowing down in time, too. Except once, when the trooper was in either an unmarked car or his own, on his way to work. Fortunately, he let me go. I don’t do the flirting thing that some women can do. Nor do I do the crying thing. But I can kiss ass like nobody’s business.
The storm trooper costume was somewhat of a joke between us friends. When we were 20, we dreamed of buying houses full of useless merch that fans buy out of love for something, but really just feeds the capitalist machine. Those friends are gone now and so are those dreams. The apartment is bare and empty, save for rusty heater that groans like an old drunkard, the hard bed in the corner next to the window that lets in the cold winter air and the single chipped wood table that wobbles on its uneven legs. There isn’t even a lighter for the cigarettes.
I wonder how much Darth Vader paid his storm troopers? I wonder what it would be like to be in that suit, firing guns at Jedi Knights but not really hitting anything. I wonder what it will be like to be on spaceships travelling between galaxies and different points of the universe at light speed, setting eyes on new planets and whole new species that may range from space worms to aliens with higher intelligence.
Then again, there was that possibility that I could die. I was part of an intergalactic army after all. I’d be no match for a Jedi and i’d probably have no idea how to work my own weaponry. You probably can’t smoke or drink, either– lest you wish to incur the wrath of Darth Vader but… despite all that, I’d still take it over all of this grimey shit.
Someone called me a trooper the other day, and I didn’t quite know how to react. I mean my dad’s been sick for as long as I’ve known him, and my mother has taken care of him for as long as I’ve known her. I’ve just been the youngest child, and my brother left home to become a priest. What about that makes me a trooper? Was it the trips to the hospital behind the ambulance, packing the overnight bag and snacks so my mother wouldn’t go hungry? Was it always remembering to pack a change of clothes for my dad? Was it the foresight to bring the phone charger? Maybe it was the fact that I was there, then went to school, and work, and went back again? I knew I was a daughter, but I didn’t know I was a trooper.
one there was a paratrooper that used to jump out of planes. His name was bill. Bill loved his job. Once he was scared that he couldn’t do his job. He went to his wife and ask her to help. She prayed with him until he got the courage to jump again. Finally he decided
You haven’t been sick until someone calls you a trooper for how well you handled it. My husband is not a trooper when he’s sick. He’s just a poor sick little boy who needs his mama to make it all better, which is a problem because I’m not much of a coddler.
Julie was a trooper, floating and bending, and changing with the whims of another. This got her nowhere, of course, not even in his affections, but left outside the box to get stale, in the shape of a pretzel.
she hung in there. though it hurt a lot, she limped along with us toward the end of the route. she was sobbing at the end and when we crossed the finish line she almost dove to the ground and lying there, she looked as miserable as i had ever seen her…
You’re a trooper. I’m a trooper. We’ve both been through some shit that we never wanted and never deserved. Perhaps your struggles are greater than mine, but we both made it. We each have scars and lessons learned. I made it through, you made it through. We can make it through the rest together, me and you.
A trooper is someone who is able to do things without a second thought; someone who is strong enough to withhold the harder complications life has to offer. A trooper is considered a person who is true to themselves, all while completing a job successfully. A trooper might be considered someone who has suffered a great deal of hardship, but remains to search for a greater, easier, wholesome way of life. A trooper is also a person known by the state to assist in heavy armed and secret, top notch jobs.
You’re a trooper, you really are. I know how much you hate it here and how you’d prefer to be with your Anna. But it means a lot to us that you showed up, it does. Stay awhile, won’t you?
I was a trooper, i’d survived love, I’d survived failure, i’d survived love that was lost, and I’d survived death. I guess that’s what makes you human, and a trooper. it makes you that because you are able to keep breathing and survive.
Super, trooper lights are going to find me, but I won’t feel blue. I’ll feel green with worry, grey with fear. I duck, weave and stumble my way around, avoiding the huge spotlight but to no prevail…I’ve been spotted.
If love if truly a battlefield, then I am a veteran–a trooper from many past wars. But where’s the badge of honor where there are only scars and memories of bad
The boy was a trooper in his opinion. He had flinched a little when he’d pulled the needle out, but other than that, he’d sat straight and hadn’t made a sound. Just squeezed his mama’s hand tight. It was over in seconds, and the boy walked away with a lollipop and a smile.
again
and
again
and
again
when I was younger I often got sad
but I wasn’t sure why
my mum would always say:
just keep swimming, you’re such a trooper
now I cry everyday
1000 miles away
from the mum
that kept me going
when I was sad
and so now
I need to try
to keep going
and call myself
a trooper.
In the darkness of the night, Emilia took to the sand dunes and rallied the gang like the efficient leader that she is. And like a trooper she abandoned all unnecessary, trivial possessions she had in order to make room for her newly concocted potions, healing herbs, and the ever important grimoire in her pack. To fight this war, she needed to build an army. And to build an army, she needed a spell. A spell to bring back her town and the people who once lived in it, enchanted by the Lost King with his dark magic.
I can pretend to be a trooper when you’re not near, but my dear, I fear the facade is slipping. I want you here more than words can relay the urgency with which I type. I feel soulless without you to shake me up inside.
The trooper lowered his gun, hesitating. “I’ll have to ask the higher-ups first, m’am, if you don’t mind. We don’t want to have another case on our hands like the one last summer.”
He wiped his tear-streaked face, leaving smudges of dirt across it. Slowly getting back on his feet, he walked away from the torn Care Bear that had been his constant companion all through his short life. He consoled himself with the toy train, trooper that he was.
What a trooper he was. He took it all so well. never even complained once. even when he lost everything, wife, car, fuck even his dog was gone. most people would have cracked immediately under the pressure but no, he cracked very, very slowly.
i wheel around at the sound of a car skidding against pavement. a trooper car slides to a halt at the other end of the warhouse. “they’re here! let’s go!” Will barks but i just stand there. i stare at the seemingly harmless trooper, watching as black clothed soldiers flood out.
It’s alright, bud. Hang in there. Be a trooper.
I know the boys call you gay. And the girls call you pansy. I know and you know that they’re not wrong. But it’s okay. You are different. It’s allowed.
It’s unfair and it’s wrong. I know and you know. And you know what? They know it too.
He was a super trooper to me, the best of the whole dreary bunch. Sparkling blue eyes and the warmest smile like a whole bunch of summer sun descending upon my face. Of course my heart leapt at this and my conviction of his interest was consolidated. In the back of my mind i know everyone receives just the same smile, but i’ll leave this thought alone for now and deal with it later
He flew in with his jet pack roaring, his gun aimed high at the mothership. He was approaching a landing that would most likely break his legs. He knew the mission and he was going to stick to it.
Many things come to mind. First of all a state trooper and second of all someone who perseveres any task or challenge despite any type of difficulties which may include physical, mental, or emotional.
“You’ve been a real trooper.”
As the blood stung my eyes and breath caught in my throat, my thoughts momentarily diverted from the immense pain that coursed through my body – instead, one nagging, infuriated thought screamed in my brain: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
someone is is in the war. solider. law enforcement
the army has many troopers. They fight for our freedom. The army helps protect our country. The army is very strong.
Speed limits? I prefer to think of them as “speed suggestions”. And most of the time, I don’t TAKE suggestions. I do, however, check my mirrors for troopers as well as other vehicles. I am usually good about slowing down in time, too. Except once, when the trooper was in either an unmarked car or his own, on his way to work. Fortunately, he let me go. I don’t do the flirting thing that some women can do. Nor do I do the crying thing. But I can kiss ass like nobody’s business.
The storm trooper costume was somewhat of a joke between us friends. When we were 20, we dreamed of buying houses full of useless merch that fans buy out of love for something, but really just feeds the capitalist machine. Those friends are gone now and so are those dreams. The apartment is bare and empty, save for rusty heater that groans like an old drunkard, the hard bed in the corner next to the window that lets in the cold winter air and the single chipped wood table that wobbles on its uneven legs. There isn’t even a lighter for the cigarettes.
I wonder how much Darth Vader paid his storm troopers? I wonder what it would be like to be in that suit, firing guns at Jedi Knights but not really hitting anything. I wonder what it will be like to be on spaceships travelling between galaxies and different points of the universe at light speed, setting eyes on new planets and whole new species that may range from space worms to aliens with higher intelligence.
Then again, there was that possibility that I could die. I was part of an intergalactic army after all. I’d be no match for a Jedi and i’d probably have no idea how to work my own weaponry. You probably can’t smoke or drink, either– lest you wish to incur the wrath of Darth Vader but… despite all that, I’d still take it over all of this grimey shit.
After all, anywhere was better than here.
She was a trooper. Taking everything in stride and excelling in every task she was given.
Someone called me a trooper the other day, and I didn’t quite know how to react. I mean my dad’s been sick for as long as I’ve known him, and my mother has taken care of him for as long as I’ve known her. I’ve just been the youngest child, and my brother left home to become a priest. What about that makes me a trooper? Was it the trips to the hospital behind the ambulance, packing the overnight bag and snacks so my mother wouldn’t go hungry? Was it always remembering to pack a change of clothes for my dad? Was it the foresight to bring the phone charger? Maybe it was the fact that I was there, then went to school, and work, and went back again? I knew I was a daughter, but I didn’t know I was a trooper.
one there was a paratrooper that used to jump out of planes. His name was bill. Bill loved his job. Once he was scared that he couldn’t do his job. He went to his wife and ask her to help. She prayed with him until he got the courage to jump again. Finally he decided
She took it all like a trooper. Making every day count no matter what came her way. Her tenacity and drive got her where she is today.
You haven’t been sick until someone calls you a trooper for how well you handled it. My husband is not a trooper when he’s sick. He’s just a poor sick little boy who needs his mama to make it all better, which is a problem because I’m not much of a coddler.
Julie was a trooper, floating and bending, and changing with the whims of another. This got her nowhere, of course, not even in his affections, but left outside the box to get stale, in the shape of a pretzel.
she hung in there. though it hurt a lot, she limped along with us toward the end of the route. she was sobbing at the end and when we crossed the finish line she almost dove to the ground and lying there, she looked as miserable as i had ever seen her…
You’re a trooper. I’m a trooper. We’ve both been through some shit that we never wanted and never deserved. Perhaps your struggles are greater than mine, but we both made it. We each have scars and lessons learned. I made it through, you made it through. We can make it through the rest together, me and you.
Sneaky
Go into war
Camo close
A trooper is someone who is able to do things without a second thought; someone who is strong enough to withhold the harder complications life has to offer. A trooper is considered a person who is true to themselves, all while completing a job successfully. A trooper might be considered someone who has suffered a great deal of hardship, but remains to search for a greater, easier, wholesome way of life. A trooper is also a person known by the state to assist in heavy armed and secret, top notch jobs.
You’re a trooper, you really are. I know how much you hate it here and how you’d prefer to be with your Anna. But it means a lot to us that you showed up, it does. Stay awhile, won’t you?
I was a trooper, i’d survived love, I’d survived failure, i’d survived love that was lost, and I’d survived death. I guess that’s what makes you human, and a trooper. it makes you that because you are able to keep breathing and survive.
Super, trooper lights are going to find me, but I won’t feel blue. I’ll feel green with worry, grey with fear. I duck, weave and stumble my way around, avoiding the huge spotlight but to no prevail…I’ve been spotted.
If love if truly a battlefield, then I am a veteran–a trooper from many past wars. But where’s the badge of honor where there are only scars and memories of bad
The boy was a trooper in his opinion. He had flinched a little when he’d pulled the needle out, but other than that, he’d sat straight and hadn’t made a sound. Just squeezed his mama’s hand tight. It was over in seconds, and the boy walked away with a lollipop and a smile.
Thin red lines of troopers armed with muskets advancing on each other. More romantic than khaki clad troops, but just as deadly.
Unfortunately Super trooper springs to mind first. Although some can be a real trooper. Brain not working now.
again
and
again
and
again
when I was younger I often got sad
but I wasn’t sure why
my mum would always say:
just keep swimming, you’re such a trooper
now I cry everyday
1000 miles away
from the mum
that kept me going
when I was sad
and so now
I need to try
to keep going
and call myself
a trooper.
In the darkness of the night, Emilia took to the sand dunes and rallied the gang like the efficient leader that she is. And like a trooper she abandoned all unnecessary, trivial possessions she had in order to make room for her newly concocted potions, healing herbs, and the ever important grimoire in her pack. To fight this war, she needed to build an army. And to build an army, she needed a spell. A spell to bring back her town and the people who once lived in it, enchanted by the Lost King with his dark magic.
I can pretend to be a trooper when you’re not near, but my dear, I fear the facade is slipping. I want you here more than words can relay the urgency with which I type. I feel soulless without you to shake me up inside.
The trooper lowered his gun, hesitating. “I’ll have to ask the higher-ups first, m’am, if you don’t mind. We don’t want to have another case on our hands like the one last summer.”
He wiped his tear-streaked face, leaving smudges of dirt across it. Slowly getting back on his feet, he walked away from the torn Care Bear that had been his constant companion all through his short life. He consoled himself with the toy train, trooper that he was.
What a trooper he was. He took it all so well. never even complained once. even when he lost everything, wife, car, fuck even his dog was gone. most people would have cracked immediately under the pressure but no, he cracked very, very slowly.
there once was trooper
in mist of all the soldiers
his gun primed and cocked
ready to blast his way through
but fear caught with him
strangling his shaking hands
in the end
the young man
who was once brave
became a mere coward
i wheel around at the sound of a car skidding against pavement. a trooper car slides to a halt at the other end of the warhouse. “they’re here! let’s go!” Will barks but i just stand there. i stare at the seemingly harmless trooper, watching as black clothed soldiers flood out.