i don’t know if it’s real or not, to be joyful. usually people say the word and don’t mean it, don’t mean the springing forth of pure white emotion, the joy of wind and sunshine and peace and love. usually they just mean happy or giggly or just the pleasure of getting into trouble.
It begins with a numbness– a sense of clarity, as if the world had just been cloaked in white sheets and everything is empty. You stand here, and at the peak, once joyful, everything grows.
The joyful sounds of the angels caught my attention. They were majestic and beautiful and I knew that I must be dreaming. They sang and shouted and danced. I was awed by their presence and knew that they were here to help me.
Her life was void of happiness and she brought pain upon everyone because of it. She had no friends and her family acted as though she did not exist. She was dark but her eyes were a bright blue and she hated it. She felt as though the lightness made her overall dark look meaningless. Yet the thing she desired most in the world, was one joyful memory.
Meaningless.
Um. I don’t know, i don’t remember what it’s like.
What do you think destroyed it?
i don’t know…i just don’t know.
Can you think of a time when you were joyful?
No, not recently.
There has to be something you can think of when you hear this word.
Why? Because I’m like permanently high all of the time?
the rain descended on the dim dark town only a few lights shown as weird as it is the depressingnewss of the rain me joyful i guess made me feel like someone else shared my pain as if someone understood me for once in my miserable life i live the rain is my relief my only companion in this dark city of sorrow i call home
It was a joyful occasion, when she thought we never happen. How had she gotten William to agree to marry her, when so many people had failed to get him into a relationship before. He was meant to not be interested in sex, well he was now.
Joy I’m full of it
but don’t think of it
as a thing
I think of it as
Colorful flowers backwards hat baseball caps in the ninth inning with two outs to go and free slushies whether you win or lose
i think of bruises
after 5AM hockey practice
backyard football before dinner
and hotfudgeicecream oh boy
It’s summer
running through my forest, or rather (since my dear marvin always says, the woods don’t belong to anyone), the forest that adopted me is what brings me joy when i come home from lab after hours of frustrating work; the calm mossy air, penetrated frequently by the clattering of crushed leafs, flushes out the stress.
The festival was always my favorite time of year. The fireworks lit the ground a joyful shade of yellow or orange. I never could stay away from the funnel cake stands, even on a diet.
Hazel and Gus enjoy each others company. They both like each other. They have a lot in common. they are off to amsterdam too meet their favorite author. They both are happy. they
When is joy full? Is there ever a moment where you can lose yourself entirely to joy and shut out everything else going on outside of it, or is all joy tinged at the edges with the haunting memories of loss or pain or hospital rooms or the toe you stubbed this morning?
caloo callay oh joyous day! though it is 40 out and wet. but i am alive. i walked the dogs and have a big glass of iced coffee next to me. time to live or at least to type.
In our lives, we have a choice of what we choose to feel at certain times. We can either wallow in our miseries, or we can be grateful for what we have. We can either despair over an ex, or we can be joyful for what’s yet to come.
It was a rare feeling. Often just a thought of her pale skin in the harsh lighting of the bathroom, or her curls sticking to her face in the shower, or the way her nose crinkles when she’s thinking gave him the same warmth.
is joyful you and me or me and you. is there a difference between the two. is joyful the song that is in the sky or is joyful the thought of christmas. joyful is as joyful does i guess. what is joyful anyways, i have forgotten what it even means..
His smile. Those cerulean, large, curious, deep oceans of eyes. The way his hair wasn’t too long, or too short, which made his pale blue strands fall orderly around his face. He loved him. He just didn’t know it yet.
Her mouth twisted into the imitation of a joyful smile, but we all could see through it now. It had been too many years of the same. Repetition had made her predictable.
“What does it mean to be joyful?” my daughter asked as she gently tugged the bottom of my long skirt.
“What do you mean, Sweetie?” I asked, amazed that a seven year old did not understand the concept of joy.
“Well, daddy says it means being happy, but not quite. My teacher said it is just being okay even when the world isn’t. And Angela told me it is when you smile,” she answered innocently enough.
I picked her up, held her tight to my chest, and whispered, “Joy is anything that makes you feel good. Like when someone calls you pretty or when a kitten licks your hand.” I hugged her tighter once the words were out in the open.
She hugged me back giggling and in that moment I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was doing something right as a parent.
The festival was beautiful. Bright lights were strung up from stalls, where vendors were calling people to buy cotton candy, or to play a game. Children were giggling, running about in costumes, a joyful spark in their eyes. Every few meters someone was bursting into laughter at a joke made by a friend. The night sky was peppered with the scent of street-food, and the atmosphere was lively and warm.
I cannot describe how she makes me feel. Every time I gaze upon her glassy surface, I see the sunshine reflected and it brings me joy. Every time I watch her rise and fall, tides swelling with the wind, I delight in her playfulness. Every time she storms, throwing the tantrums she is known for, I am in awe of her, wondering at her power.
she’s so happy she could die, here in the mermaid’s arms, being kissed so gently and lovingly that she wonders how she hasn’t suffocated or passed out from sheer bliss yet. she was half-expecting the woman to eat her, but no, there were no bitten lips or forceful shoves, no taking without permission. where she thought she might find brutality, all there was was sweetness.
The contrast struck Judith not as incongruous or discordant, but as more true and starkly beautiful than anything she had experienced in a long time…a very long time. A tear rolled down her cheek, as the piercing, tragic chords played and the the soft, brokenhearted voice sang, and Bryan absentmindedly painted the word “Joy” in vibrant Christmas colors on the poster board at her feet.
It was a joyful occasion, her wedding. Or, at least, it should have been.
Marius Denarius was a handsome prince, soon to be a handsome king; their children would be beautiful, would want for nothing. But what did it matter when her heart would never lay with him?
“Here,” he said, kneeling down beside the girl and passing her the binoculars. “Why don’t you take a look?”
“Yes! Thank you! Thank you!” She cried, face blossoming into the most beautiful of smiles.
But his was a sad one as he watched her tiptoeing to peer over the visitor rail. He wondered if any of them understood life’s simple pleasures anymore.
Joyful sounds abound this day. That’s all I have to say.
i don’t know if it’s real or not, to be joyful. usually people say the word and don’t mean it, don’t mean the springing forth of pure white emotion, the joy of wind and sunshine and peace and love. usually they just mean happy or giggly or just the pleasure of getting into trouble.
joyful… the feeling you get when you are with your closed ones… when you achieve what you always wanted… when you experience serendipity…
She couldn’t live up to her name, all the time. Wondered why her parents named her ‘Joy’.
It begins with a numbness– a sense of clarity, as if the world had just been cloaked in white sheets and everything is empty. You stand here, and at the peak, once joyful, everything grows.
The joyful sounds of the angels caught my attention. They were majestic and beautiful and I knew that I must be dreaming. They sang and shouted and danced. I was awed by their presence and knew that they were here to help me.
Her life was void of happiness and she brought pain upon everyone because of it. She had no friends and her family acted as though she did not exist. She was dark but her eyes were a bright blue and she hated it. She felt as though the lightness made her overall dark look meaningless. Yet the thing she desired most in the world, was one joyful memory.
Meaningless.
Um. I don’t know, i don’t remember what it’s like.
What do you think destroyed it?
i don’t know…i just don’t know.
Can you think of a time when you were joyful?
No, not recently.
There has to be something you can think of when you hear this word.
Why? Because I’m like permanently high all of the time?
The joy in every letter of every word of every paragraph in your life story dazzles the senses of a drunken drama queen. Thank you.
the rain descended on the dim dark town only a few lights shown as weird as it is the depressingnewss of the rain me joyful i guess made me feel like someone else shared my pain as if someone understood me for once in my miserable life i live the rain is my relief my only companion in this dark city of sorrow i call home
It was a joyful occasion, when she thought we never happen. How had she gotten William to agree to marry her, when so many people had failed to get him into a relationship before. He was meant to not be interested in sex, well he was now.
do what you want with my body
like you have known me all years
like you have known me as a disk jockey
who play this song just for my baby
Joy I’m full of it
but don’t think of it
as a thing
I think of it as
Colorful flowers backwards hat baseball caps in the ninth inning with two outs to go and free slushies whether you win or lose
i think of bruises
after 5AM hockey practice
backyard football before dinner
and hotfudgeicecream oh boy
It’s summer
running through my forest, or rather (since my dear marvin always says, the woods don’t belong to anyone), the forest that adopted me is what brings me joy when i come home from lab after hours of frustrating work; the calm mossy air, penetrated frequently by the clattering of crushed leafs, flushes out the stress.
The festival was always my favorite time of year. The fireworks lit the ground a joyful shade of yellow or orange. I never could stay away from the funnel cake stands, even on a diet.
Hazel and Gus enjoy each others company. They both like each other. They have a lot in common. they are off to amsterdam too meet their favorite author. They both are happy. they
it was beautiful
Hazel and Gus enjoy each others company.
When is joy full? Is there ever a moment where you can lose yourself entirely to joy and shut out everything else going on outside of it, or is all joy tinged at the edges with the haunting memories of loss or pain or hospital rooms or the toe you stubbed this morning?
I didn’t know you had it in you. Maybe I did, I don’t know. It seems to come out when convenient. I’ve heard better fish tales.
Army people enjoyed joy
caloo callay oh joyous day! though it is 40 out and wet. but i am alive. i walked the dogs and have a big glass of iced coffee next to me. time to live or at least to type.
In our lives, we have a choice of what we choose to feel at certain times. We can either wallow in our miseries, or we can be grateful for what we have. We can either despair over an ex, or we can be joyful for what’s yet to come.
The time spent with my children and grandchildren is always joyful. I wish I was a happier person in general though and was always joyful.
Joyful is a park with kids. Joyful is lake with fish. Joyful is the sun, shining. And joyful is us staring at each other. It is good. being joyful.
He was joyful in her arms.
It was a rare feeling. Often just a thought of her pale skin in the harsh lighting of the bathroom, or her curls sticking to her face in the shower, or the way her nose crinkles when she’s thinking gave him the same warmth.
is joyful you and me or me and you. is there a difference between the two. is joyful the song that is in the sky or is joyful the thought of christmas. joyful is as joyful does i guess. what is joyful anyways, i have forgotten what it even means..
His smile. Those cerulean, large, curious, deep oceans of eyes. The way his hair wasn’t too long, or too short, which made his pale blue strands fall orderly around his face. He loved him. He just didn’t know it yet.
The sky slowly faded to black and all its children came out to play, glowing white light on a dark scene. A hill, a brook, and a breeze.
Her mouth twisted into the imitation of a joyful smile, but we all could see through it now. It had been too many years of the same. Repetition had made her predictable.
this is what life is all about, our birthright is to be in joy. It is found within.
“What does it mean to be joyful?” my daughter asked as she gently tugged the bottom of my long skirt.
“What do you mean, Sweetie?” I asked, amazed that a seven year old did not understand the concept of joy.
“Well, daddy says it means being happy, but not quite. My teacher said it is just being okay even when the world isn’t. And Angela told me it is when you smile,” she answered innocently enough.
I picked her up, held her tight to my chest, and whispered, “Joy is anything that makes you feel good. Like when someone calls you pretty or when a kitten licks your hand.” I hugged her tighter once the words were out in the open.
She hugged me back giggling and in that moment I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was doing something right as a parent.
The Dumb was always so joyful. I oftwn envied him his happiness.
The festival was beautiful. Bright lights were strung up from stalls, where vendors were calling people to buy cotton candy, or to play a game. Children were giggling, running about in costumes, a joyful spark in their eyes. Every few meters someone was bursting into laughter at a joke made by a friend. The night sky was peppered with the scent of street-food, and the atmosphere was lively and warm.
I cannot describe how she makes me feel. Every time I gaze upon her glassy surface, I see the sunshine reflected and it brings me joy. Every time I watch her rise and fall, tides swelling with the wind, I delight in her playfulness. Every time she storms, throwing the tantrums she is known for, I am in awe of her, wondering at her power.
she’s so happy she could die, here in the mermaid’s arms, being kissed so gently and lovingly that she wonders how she hasn’t suffocated or passed out from sheer bliss yet. she was half-expecting the woman to eat her, but no, there were no bitten lips or forceful shoves, no taking without permission. where she thought she might find brutality, all there was was sweetness.
The contrast struck Judith not as incongruous or discordant, but as more true and starkly beautiful than anything she had experienced in a long time…a very long time. A tear rolled down her cheek, as the piercing, tragic chords played and the the soft, brokenhearted voice sang, and Bryan absentmindedly painted the word “Joy” in vibrant Christmas colors on the poster board at her feet.
It was a joyful occasion, her wedding. Or, at least, it should have been.
Marius Denarius was a handsome prince, soon to be a handsome king; their children would be beautiful, would want for nothing. But what did it matter when her heart would never lay with him?
Birthdays that I can remember. There were kids singing, I think I might have been singing. Heh. Have been. I was happy once.
“Here,” he said, kneeling down beside the girl and passing her the binoculars. “Why don’t you take a look?”
“Yes! Thank you! Thank you!” She cried, face blossoming into the most beautiful of smiles.
But his was a sad one as he watched her tiptoeing to peer over the visitor rail. He wondered if any of them understood life’s simple pleasures anymore.