I took a ride today on by cyclical. I mean…bicycle. I can never get that word right. I guess it all goes back to that night I was with Joe. We were sitting in the back seat after prom and he had just kissed me.
My love for you is cyclical. I’ll find myself tugged into your orbit, enticed by your natural gravity, but when I get too close, I find myself burnt. I’ll distance myself, but your gravity will always pull me back in. Like the moon around the Earth, or the Earth around the Sun, I find myself unable to keep away.
cyclical means of or like a cycle so it repeats itself cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical see it’s cyclical. Also if there was an O at the beginning rather than a C that would be cyclical.
Round and round and round and round,
I can’t stop thinking of the endless patterns,
Prevailing, nay ruling, our society,
Through fear of the unknown
And fear of change.
We are slowly adapting,
It’s just not fast enough.
wiederholung – alles ist wiederholung – du triffst immer wieder auf die gleichen probleme – du denkst, du wirst es anders machen, wirst dir einen “gesunden” partner suchen, bist glücklich mit deiner neuen eroberung und schleichend kommen immer wieder die alten probleme hervor bis du einen schlussstrich setzen willst, den partner verlässt und dir vornimmst, dir einen “gesunden” partner zu suchen. wiederholung – alles ist wiederholung – du triffst ….
And we seem to come back again and again to the old stories we know so well. Even though we are being called to the new ones. The new that is written and declared for us. But even so, we can rest assured that there is always grace.
“You should be prepared for rejection. It’s probable that your wife has turned them against you, and they may even have come to blame you for what’s happened by themselves. It’s cyclical, like jetlag.”
“How do you know so much about it?” Dave interrupted.
“Did you study this kind of thing in University?”
“Yeah,” Ohara replied; “The University of Life.”
The doctors described it as cyclical. The highs, the lows, the in betweens. It felt more like a cyclone, spinning out of control and taking out everything it touched.
My thoughts are cyclical. I keep thinking the same things over and over. Maybe I should write some of it down. Will I keep writing about the same things? My life is dull.
It was a cyclical kind of relationship. The kind in which bruises became tattoos, of spider webs specifically, branching out into brand new spindles of aggression and fear. The kind in which the color of the iris was not noted, but the ring of black surrounding it. The kind in which, if enough amber was imbibed, the flurry of fists would become blurred, and if it couldn’t be remembered that someone was assaulted, well, did it really happen, then?
We don’t live only once. My people have always known this, accepted it. Embraced it. As such, our lives are cyclical. We repeat things, sometimes just little things, over and over again. We find ourselves in the same surroundings, make the same choices, face the same challenges. We even surround ourselves with the same souls.
Use it cyclically, he said. I don’t want to, it’s bogus and mundane. Can’t believe he is making me do this. Yes I control the weather, but if I want a week of storms, then so be it. If I want constant tornadoes then it shall be so. Hah. Cyclically. Who the hell does he think he is?
“I am God.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I don’t like circles. They go round and round and it’s impossible to come out. You dance and swirl and sing and go, but you can’t go out.
I don’t like circles. They’re constraining and prisons. They are closed and impossible to come out of.
If she were to describe their relationship in one word, cyclical would be it. Round and round they went. Him going, her returning, constantly in motion, never stopping. Never ending, always and forever on the move.
I have no idea what cyclical means. In fact, I can’t ever recall hearing, using, learning this word in the past 22 years of my life. Is this a plot twist? A word that is supposed to confuse me and contribute to my years of writers block, being reminded my vocabularly + verbiage is that of a 14 year old teens?
Everything I do is part of a cycle. So predictable. I will begin painting for a period of months, then set it down for 9 years. Same with piano, writing, reading various types of books, various musical patterns; life is so strange, yet it will be normal again as the pendulum swings once more…
I do not know the meaning of cyclical. I things that go in a cycle may be called cyclical. Sometimes cycles can become vicious cycles . Vicious cycles can be difficult to break out of. Things that are otherwise cyclical like the weather and day and night are good . It brings to mind a famous line by Keats if winter comes can spring be far behind.
My children being friends with each other is quiet cyclical. Sometimes they like each other and sometimes they don’t. I feel like it goes with the cycle of the moon, or maybe it’s just the time of day, or the rising of the tide. Who knows. Sometimes they are great together, and sometimes they’re at each other’s throats…I guess that’s just the way siblings are!
“you know that you will fuck up your menstrual cycle by drinking too much water with lemon? you shouldn’t really screw up something that is supposed to me cyclical”
“Speaking of cyclical patterns,” Garth said, “what about water as it eddies down a drain?” Sandra jumped in. “Yes, yes! It swirls one direction in the Northern Hemisphere, and the other in the Southern. Or maybe it’s the other way around; do you remember?” Garth blinked, slowly, as he searched for a response.
It was cyclical. Thought to action to thought to attempt to break the cycle to failure to thought. He was just like this, he knew. If this wasn’t how it was meant to be, then why should it be so hard not to follow his imperative? Why should he be the only one that had to fight this every second of every day? What made him so special that the *world itself* tried to hold him back with thoughts of death?
The answer had to be: nothing. It wasn’t ‘holding him back’, he was holding himself back. By not giving in.
All their livelihood was storied in the cyclical containers on the south of the property and the old farmer looked at them proudly. Without the grain, the cows wouldn’t get fed; without the cows, the expenses of the farm would quickly overrun their vegetable profits, and without profits, they would lose their land.
The question was often asked to her, to the point that it seemed like it was the nation’s mantra. She grinned inwardly with thrill every time it was asked to her. It was annoying. It was frustrating. But it also reminded her of how…different she was from everyone else.
The tears, accompanied with the shrill scream, it was all too satisfying.
the world is a spinning ball, but i bet you knew that already. the thing is, whatever we do, however we try to change things, the world will always be a spinning ball in the dark sky, nothing more than that. we’re invisible and tiny and meaningless.
I don’t know what that word is, but I like it. I decided to google it. It’s meaning looks cool. The way something repeats to itself again and again reminds me of the human race and its mistakes. We’re the only ones capable of repeating mistakes.
I took a ride today on by cyclical. I mean…bicycle. I can never get that word right. I guess it all goes back to that night I was with Joe. We were sitting in the back seat after prom and he had just kissed me.
My love for you is cyclical. I’ll find myself tugged into your orbit, enticed by your natural gravity, but when I get too close, I find myself burnt. I’ll distance myself, but your gravity will always pull me back in. Like the moon around the Earth, or the Earth around the Sun, I find myself unable to keep away.
cyclical means of or like a cycle so it repeats itself cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical see it’s cyclical. Also if there was an O at the beginning rather than a C that would be cyclical.
Round and round and round and round,
I can’t stop thinking of the endless patterns,
Prevailing, nay ruling, our society,
Through fear of the unknown
And fear of change.
We are slowly adapting,
It’s just not fast enough.
wiederholung – alles ist wiederholung – du triffst immer wieder auf die gleichen probleme – du denkst, du wirst es anders machen, wirst dir einen “gesunden” partner suchen, bist glücklich mit deiner neuen eroberung und schleichend kommen immer wieder die alten probleme hervor bis du einen schlussstrich setzen willst, den partner verlässt und dir vornimmst, dir einen “gesunden” partner zu suchen. wiederholung – alles ist wiederholung – du triffst ….
Bicyclical: of or pertaining to a person on a unicycle balancing spinning plates in each hand.
Cyclical: just one plate.
cyclical mood disorder, Cyclothymia, can’t EXPLAINS CYCLICAL INDUSTRY
i dont even know
what this is supposed to mean
maybe a bicycle?
And we seem to come back again and again to the old stories we know so well. Even though we are being called to the new ones. The new that is written and declared for us. But even so, we can rest assured that there is always grace.
“You should be prepared for rejection. It’s probable that your wife has turned them against you, and they may even have come to blame you for what’s happened by themselves. It’s cyclical, like jetlag.”
“How do you know so much about it?” Dave interrupted.
“Did you study this kind of thing in University?”
“Yeah,” Ohara replied; “The University of Life.”
The doctors described it as cyclical. The highs, the lows, the in betweens. It felt more like a cyclone, spinning out of control and taking out everything it touched.
Manipulate
Feelings when lost something
one word is the only think that come to mind when i think about my future. that one word hunts me where ever i go. The one word is nothing.
My thoughts are cyclical. I keep thinking the same things over and over. Maybe I should write some of it down. Will I keep writing about the same things? My life is dull.
It was a cyclical kind of relationship. The kind in which bruises became tattoos, of spider webs specifically, branching out into brand new spindles of aggression and fear. The kind in which the color of the iris was not noted, but the ring of black surrounding it. The kind in which, if enough amber was imbibed, the flurry of fists would become blurred, and if it couldn’t be remembered that someone was assaulted, well, did it really happen, then?
What goes around comes around. Everything works in cycles.
We don’t live only once. My people have always known this, accepted it. Embraced it. As such, our lives are cyclical. We repeat things, sometimes just little things, over and over again. We find ourselves in the same surroundings, make the same choices, face the same challenges. We even surround ourselves with the same souls.
It was always like this with guys. She would meet them like them and then find every reason she could to not like them .
Use it cyclically, he said. I don’t want to, it’s bogus and mundane. Can’t believe he is making me do this. Yes I control the weather, but if I want a week of storms, then so be it. If I want constant tornadoes then it shall be so. Hah. Cyclically. Who the hell does he think he is?
“I am God.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I don’t like circles. They go round and round and it’s impossible to come out. You dance and swirl and sing and go, but you can’t go out.
I don’t like circles. They’re constraining and prisons. They are closed and impossible to come out of.
If she were to describe their relationship in one word, cyclical would be it. Round and round they went. Him going, her returning, constantly in motion, never stopping. Never ending, always and forever on the move.
I have no idea what cyclical means. In fact, I can’t ever recall hearing, using, learning this word in the past 22 years of my life. Is this a plot twist? A word that is supposed to confuse me and contribute to my years of writers block, being reminded my vocabularly + verbiage is that of a 14 year old teens?
Everything I do is part of a cycle. So predictable. I will begin painting for a period of months, then set it down for 9 years. Same with piano, writing, reading various types of books, various musical patterns; life is so strange, yet it will be normal again as the pendulum swings once more…
you
I do not know the meaning of cyclical. I things that go in a cycle may be called cyclical. Sometimes cycles can become vicious cycles . Vicious cycles can be difficult to break out of. Things that are otherwise cyclical like the weather and day and night are good . It brings to mind a famous line by Keats if winter comes can spring be far behind.
*quite
My children being friends with each other is quiet cyclical. Sometimes they like each other and sometimes they don’t. I feel like it goes with the cycle of the moon, or maybe it’s just the time of day, or the rising of the tide. Who knows. Sometimes they are great together, and sometimes they’re at each other’s throats…I guess that’s just the way siblings are!
It is a wonderful thing to be in a cyclical environment… especially when you have beauty and happiness surrounding you!
Hide me;
hermit shells sucking
Dowager humps as you try
to scrape me well inside,
like stuffed crab mushrooms
smelling of solemn aches and death.
I scurry in, I scurry in.
“you know that you will fuck up your menstrual cycle by drinking too much water with lemon? you shouldn’t really screw up something that is supposed to me cyclical”
“Speaking of cyclical patterns,” Garth said, “what about water as it eddies down a drain?” Sandra jumped in. “Yes, yes! It swirls one direction in the Northern Hemisphere, and the other in the Southern. Or maybe it’s the other way around; do you remember?” Garth blinked, slowly, as he searched for a response.
It was cyclical. Thought to action to thought to attempt to break the cycle to failure to thought. He was just like this, he knew. If this wasn’t how it was meant to be, then why should it be so hard not to follow his imperative? Why should he be the only one that had to fight this every second of every day? What made him so special that the *world itself* tried to hold him back with thoughts of death?
The answer had to be: nothing. It wasn’t ‘holding him back’, he was holding himself back. By not giving in.
All their livelihood was storied in the cyclical containers on the south of the property and the old farmer looked at them proudly. Without the grain, the cows wouldn’t get fed; without the cows, the expenses of the farm would quickly overrun their vegetable profits, and without profits, they would lose their land.
The question was often asked to her, to the point that it seemed like it was the nation’s mantra. She grinned inwardly with thrill every time it was asked to her. It was annoying. It was frustrating. But it also reminded her of how…different she was from everyone else.
The tears, accompanied with the shrill scream, it was all too satisfying.
“Don’t you have a heart?!”
Did it matter if she did?
the world is a spinning ball, but i bet you knew that already. the thing is, whatever we do, however we try to change things, the world will always be a spinning ball in the dark sky, nothing more than that. we’re invisible and tiny and meaningless.
um…
havent heard. it sounds very circular, and stuff. bluh bluh bluh dumb bitch boo you whore. that sentence is unrelated.,
I don’t know what that word is, but I like it. I decided to google it. It’s meaning looks cool. The way something repeats to itself again and again reminds me of the human race and its mistakes. We’re the only ones capable of repeating mistakes.