Windowboxes on every house on the avenue, filled with whites and pinks and reds. Trees up and down the street as well, turning fiery from autumnal colouring. Everything was prim and proper and well-kept, a sign of a place that people took pride in.
It was late summer, just when the unbearably hot days began to slowly give way to a smattering of cloudy days and chilly nights. This was one of those nights, a sparse but cold wind blew the very first bunch of fallen leaves, harbingers of what would come soon enough. I was walking, not with any destination in mind, just out to clear my head and try to forget. Her departure was as sudden as an alarm clock shouting at you early in the morning, although things had seemed right and good, it goes to show that you cant ever take anyone for granted. I was constantly distracted, and for someone whose mindset is ruled by the ability to concentrate in nearly any situation, I was quite unnerved. Now everything reminded me of her, from the ancient street lamp to the crooked sign bearing the name of the random avenue I happened to be walking down, even the damned roses, the dried petals hanging on for dear life.
My street is an avenue. There are avenues all around. It’s such a proper word and it makes me smile. It’s so much more elegant than “street” or “road.” Avenue. It’s classy. A very classy pavement I’d agree.
The roads were slippery that day, drenched by the tears I shed not so long ago. I don’t know. My thoughts, they were the pedestrians that were crossing the dampen streets, clumsy and bumping and apologizing. I tried to cast a smile, but it was hard. The thrumming of my heart was too deafening to hear a single note from somebody else’s heart. It was a busy day in the avenue of my mind.
The roads were slippery that day, drenched by the tears I shed not so long ago. I don’t know. My thoughts, they were the pedestrian that were crossing the dampen streets, clumsy and bumping and apologizing. I tried to cast a smile, but it was hard. The thrumming of my heart was too deafening to hear a single note from somebody else’s heart. It was a busy day in the avenue of my mind.
The most famous avenue in the world is the Champs-Elysees, located in Paris, France. It is considered the most beautiful street in the world for its wide road, array of shops, and spectacular night life.
She was standing there at the end of the avenue, just standing under the rain as if she were waiting for me. It wasn’t long before i worked up the courage to walk towards her. I told her how everything would be different and that she was the only one for me. I had never done anything to hurt her and i missed her oh so dearly. At that point she took my hand and there in the pouring rain she pulled me close and kissed me, then wrapped her arms around me so tightly that it felt like we would never come apart.
Nothing’s changed. Same things, different faces, different places, different ways. There’s only so many times you can break a heart. When you split an atom, it explodes, or so I’m told.
Will I explode? Probably not. No one hears the dying screams of an atom anyway.
“Think of this as yet another avenue on the road of life.”
“Dad, please…just don’t.” I sank my head to rest on my folded arms on the table.
“David, you’re 17.” He plants a heavy hand on my shoulder. “No one expects you to know everything.”
“Being able to choose a girlfriend that isn’t a serial killer isn’t exactly ‘everything’, Dad.” I roll my eyes, even though they’re still closed. “In fact, for most people I think that’s common sense.”
That band that grew up next to me.
That, 7 years (or more) later, i still listen and sing along to almost every song.
I still haven’t got the chance to see them live, maybe one day if they come to my country.
I would be so happy to see them, cuz their music is a huge part of my life.
Of course, i’m talking about Yellowcard.
And of course, the reason why, is their album Ocen avenue.
First thing that came to mind with that word <3
whats the difference between avenues and streets and boulevards and ways. their all some sort of roadway. am i just too dense to see the subtle differences in their compostition?? or is humanity just too nitpicky about what they put their feet on??
When you open that gleaming front door on a hot summer day, the cool air from within whooshes out at you, carrying the yeasty aroma of baking bread straight up your nostrils. It’s almost too much, and you shudder with pleasure, your stomach growling even though you just ate.
Some classmates have decided to hold a study group here, and now you know why. The mingling scents of well-brewed coffee and fresh pastries swirl around you as the door closes, and you’re immersed in the mood lighting of the place.
The tinted windows keep out the heat, and you spy your friends over in a corner booth, a large loaf of steaming bread on the table between them.
Forgetting that you’re there to study, you follow your nose, and head over to have some of that deliciously browned and puffy bread.
An avenue could be a threshold to an opportunity. And life is defined by opportunities, even the ones we missed. so take every avenue that will would you anywhere, better move on that be stagnant.
What is your avenue? Do you enjoy writing? Perhaps you love to sculpt, paint, sing, dance? Everyone has something. Somewhere they belong. An avenue they can roam, walk, run or play in. Some people like to dash down many avenues – that is acceptable too. Some people like to create their own – that is even better. Go off, darling, and find an avenue of your own – one that fills your spirit and your heart.
There’s a place off Ocean Avenue
Where I used to sit and talk with you
We were both 16 and it felt so right
Sleeping all day, staying up all night
Staying up all night
i remember when music was good on MTV and not bull shit
i mean grantuted yellow card wasnt the best
but it was still better then half the stuff now.
On this avenue,keep on waiting and hoping that you’d pass by again. I just want to know who you are and where you’re from. I’ll keep waiting on the avenue where I first laid eyes on you, hoping that one day, I’ll know where angles came from.
Studio avenue. As they walked down the streets of their new City, they knew everything would be much better, or so they supposed. So much bigger so much brighter. Until you looked down an alley: so much darker than anything they were used to. So many- too many?- avenues. So many ways to go.
Did I mention it was my first day of secondary school ^^?
I was stuck. On the corner of Gordon Avenue. Cold. Lonely. Heartbroken.
Tears slid down my freezing cheeks. I clutched my bag close.
Please don’t let me go.
He had walked down the wrong avenue. Again. He turned back and biked for a couple of blocks, but his mind continued to swim with thoughts. He kept losing track of where he was and where he was going – both physically and mentally. His mind couldn’t stay on track, and neither could he as he turned around yet again. Focus. But then his vision became a blur yet again.
Studio avenue. As they walked down the streets of their new City, they knew everything would be much better, or so they supposed. So much bigger so much brighter. Until you looked down an alley: so much darker than anything they were used to. So many- too many?- avenues. So many ways to go.
Did I mention it was my first day of secondary school?
Sometimes I think I want to take a long walk in Central Park, live near the 5th Avenue, dinner at Little Italy, shop at Saks, and breakfast at Tiffany´s… sometimes, (more than I think), I don´t want anything at all but sleep.
I walked down the avenue
Leaving the house I’d known
My whole life.
I wished more than anything
That nothing would change
While I was away.
That’s impossible
Of course.
But a girl can dream.
I turned off that avenue
And onto a new road
With a new adventure.
I crossed the avenue to get a closer look at the very cute and pretty girl. I have a girlfriend but it’s okay. It’s like looking at a suit I can’t afford.
I was walking along the avenue, the street where we used to play as kids. I remember how your face shown as streetlights hit us in the late afternoons. It’s a nostalgic feeling.
They were on opposite side of the kitchen, back to back. She was eating meatballs out of the bowl, he was eating salad. After thirty-three years together, they were invisible, lost across an avenue that was no longer accessible. She spooned out a meatball; he forked his lettuce. And they were miles apart.
I walked down Avenue A, wondering what the hell I was going to do with my life now. I had just been rejected for the 38th time to be a part of an off-off-broadway show. Damn it, theatre was my life, how was I supposed to make a living now? I promised myself I would make it big. Then it dawned on me. Chicago. Not the musical. The city. The theatres were good there, right?
Michigan Avenue at downtown Chicago is fondly called The Magnificent Mile. People love to stroll there and see the sights. Lots of stores and skyscrapers abound. It’s fun to think of Michigan Avenue because when youre a native of Chicago, you feel proud of it along with many other great hallmarks
The avenue was jam packed with tourists. The street, despite the architecture, never seemed all that interesting to me, but to each his own. I never thought of Santa Fe as being a “tourist trap”, but I guess I was wrong. The city is about the spirit of those who came before us.
When I walked down the avenue, I saw his face. A total stranger, but he felt so familiar it felt like home. Our eyes lock for just a second as we realize what could happen. But then just like that, he was gone. Another opportunity wasted.
The avenue was crowded with people, bustling with the sounds of city life. I was uneasy- I’d never been in such a populated area, let alone by myself. I was lost in a sea of faces- black, brown, white, yellow- more diversity than I had ever seen in my sleepy country town.
she walked along, collecting oranges in her apron as she meandered down the avenue. she felt like the sun was shining just for her, as her blue eyes glistened and her dimples sent out waves of love into the far reaches of the universe. what a blessed gift, this life, these oranges, these dimples, this avenue.
I walked down Michigan Avenue towards my sister’s house. I hurried along the road, not looking left or right. I didn’t like this town.
Windowboxes on every house on the avenue, filled with whites and pinks and reds. Trees up and down the street as well, turning fiery from autumnal colouring. Everything was prim and proper and well-kept, a sign of a place that people took pride in.
It was late summer, just when the unbearably hot days began to slowly give way to a smattering of cloudy days and chilly nights. This was one of those nights, a sparse but cold wind blew the very first bunch of fallen leaves, harbingers of what would come soon enough. I was walking, not with any destination in mind, just out to clear my head and try to forget. Her departure was as sudden as an alarm clock shouting at you early in the morning, although things had seemed right and good, it goes to show that you cant ever take anyone for granted. I was constantly distracted, and for someone whose mindset is ruled by the ability to concentrate in nearly any situation, I was quite unnerved. Now everything reminded me of her, from the ancient street lamp to the crooked sign bearing the name of the random avenue I happened to be walking down, even the damned roses, the dried petals hanging on for dear life.
My street is an avenue. There are avenues all around. It’s such a proper word and it makes me smile. It’s so much more elegant than “street” or “road.” Avenue. It’s classy. A very classy pavement I’d agree.
The roads were slippery that day, drenched by the tears I shed not so long ago. I don’t know. My thoughts, they were the pedestrians that were crossing the dampen streets, clumsy and bumping and apologizing. I tried to cast a smile, but it was hard. The thrumming of my heart was too deafening to hear a single note from somebody else’s heart. It was a busy day in the avenue of my mind.
The roads were slippery that day, drenched by the tears I shed not so long ago. I don’t know. My thoughts, they were the pedestrian that were crossing the dampen streets, clumsy and bumping and apologizing. I tried to cast a smile, but it was hard. The thrumming of my heart was too deafening to hear a single note from somebody else’s heart. It was a busy day in the avenue of my mind.
The most famous avenue in the world is the Champs-Elysees, located in Paris, France. It is considered the most beautiful street in the world for its wide road, array of shops, and spectacular night life.
She was standing there at the end of the avenue, just standing under the rain as if she were waiting for me. It wasn’t long before i worked up the courage to walk towards her. I told her how everything would be different and that she was the only one for me. I had never done anything to hurt her and i missed her oh so dearly. At that point she took my hand and there in the pouring rain she pulled me close and kissed me, then wrapped her arms around me so tightly that it felt like we would never come apart.
I’m still running.
I’m still running.
Nothing’s changed. Same things, different faces, different places, different ways. There’s only so many times you can break a heart. When you split an atom, it explodes, or so I’m told.
Will I explode? Probably not. No one hears the dying screams of an atom anyway.
“Think of this as yet another avenue on the road of life.”
“Dad, please…just don’t.” I sank my head to rest on my folded arms on the table.
“David, you’re 17.” He plants a heavy hand on my shoulder. “No one expects you to know everything.”
“Being able to choose a girlfriend that isn’t a serial killer isn’t exactly ‘everything’, Dad.” I roll my eyes, even though they’re still closed. “In fact, for most people I think that’s common sense.”
The avenue was deserted. He’d walked the whole thing himself. Now, at the end, he looked back and saw all that was.
What a dumb road to walk, he thought. Knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque
That band that grew up next to me.
That, 7 years (or more) later, i still listen and sing along to almost every song.
I still haven’t got the chance to see them live, maybe one day if they come to my country.
I would be so happy to see them, cuz their music is a huge part of my life.
Of course, i’m talking about Yellowcard.
And of course, the reason why, is their album Ocen avenue.
First thing that came to mind with that word <3
so many paths to explore how can i be so mean as to not go through every single one. i saw your face go through a door, so that’s where i went.
whats the difference between avenues and streets and boulevards and ways. their all some sort of roadway. am i just too dense to see the subtle differences in their compostition?? or is humanity just too nitpicky about what they put their feet on??
Avenue Bread. A shop. A bakery. A perfumery.
When you open that gleaming front door on a hot summer day, the cool air from within whooshes out at you, carrying the yeasty aroma of baking bread straight up your nostrils. It’s almost too much, and you shudder with pleasure, your stomach growling even though you just ate.
Some classmates have decided to hold a study group here, and now you know why. The mingling scents of well-brewed coffee and fresh pastries swirl around you as the door closes, and you’re immersed in the mood lighting of the place.
The tinted windows keep out the heat, and you spy your friends over in a corner booth, a large loaf of steaming bread on the table between them.
Forgetting that you’re there to study, you follow your nose, and head over to have some of that deliciously browned and puffy bread.
An avenue could be a threshold to an opportunity. And life is defined by opportunities, even the ones we missed. so take every avenue that will would you anywhere, better move on that be stagnant.
There’s a place on Ocean Avenue where I used to sit and talk with you. We were both 16 and it felt so right. Sleepin all day, stayin up all night.
What is your avenue? Do you enjoy writing? Perhaps you love to sculpt, paint, sing, dance? Everyone has something. Somewhere they belong. An avenue they can roam, walk, run or play in. Some people like to dash down many avenues – that is acceptable too. Some people like to create their own – that is even better. Go off, darling, and find an avenue of your own – one that fills your spirit and your heart.
There’s a place off Ocean Avenue
Where I used to sit and talk with you
We were both 16 and it felt so right
Sleeping all day, staying up all night
Staying up all night
i remember when music was good on MTV and not bull shit
i mean grantuted yellow card wasnt the best
but it was still better then half the stuff now.
On this avenue,keep on waiting and hoping that you’d pass by again. I just want to know who you are and where you’re from. I’ll keep waiting on the avenue where I first laid eyes on you, hoping that one day, I’ll know where angles came from.
Studio avenue. As they walked down the streets of their new City, they knew everything would be much better, or so they supposed. So much bigger so much brighter. Until you looked down an alley: so much darker than anything they were used to. So many- too many?- avenues. So many ways to go.
Did I mention it was my first day of secondary school ^^?
I was stuck. On the corner of Gordon Avenue. Cold. Lonely. Heartbroken.
Tears slid down my freezing cheeks. I clutched my bag close.
Please don’t let me go.
He had walked down the wrong avenue. Again. He turned back and biked for a couple of blocks, but his mind continued to swim with thoughts. He kept losing track of where he was and where he was going – both physically and mentally. His mind couldn’t stay on track, and neither could he as he turned around yet again. Focus. But then his vision became a blur yet again.
Studio avenue. As they walked down the streets of their new City, they knew everything would be much better, or so they supposed. So much bigger so much brighter. Until you looked down an alley: so much darker than anything they were used to. So many- too many?- avenues. So many ways to go.
Did I mention it was my first day of secondary school?
Sometimes I think I want to take a long walk in Central Park, live near the 5th Avenue, dinner at Little Italy, shop at Saks, and breakfast at Tiffany´s… sometimes, (more than I think), I don´t want anything at all but sleep.
I walked down the avenue
Leaving the house I’d known
My whole life.
I wished more than anything
That nothing would change
While I was away.
That’s impossible
Of course.
But a girl can dream.
I turned off that avenue
And onto a new road
With a new adventure.
I thought if you didn’t show up, I’d have my answer. But I’m still waiting.
I crossed the avenue to get a closer look at the very cute and pretty girl. I have a girlfriend but it’s okay. It’s like looking at a suit I can’t afford.
I was walking along the avenue, the street where we used to play as kids. I remember how your face shown as streetlights hit us in the late afternoons. It’s a nostalgic feeling.
They were on opposite side of the kitchen, back to back. She was eating meatballs out of the bowl, he was eating salad. After thirty-three years together, they were invisible, lost across an avenue that was no longer accessible. She spooned out a meatball; he forked his lettuce. And they were miles apart.
She walked, turned the corner and stopped at Sunshine avenue, Then she abruptly turned and ran back down Stormcloud road, she couldn’t face the sun.
I walked down Avenue A, wondering what the hell I was going to do with my life now. I had just been rejected for the 38th time to be a part of an off-off-broadway show. Damn it, theatre was my life, how was I supposed to make a living now? I promised myself I would make it big. Then it dawned on me. Chicago. Not the musical. The city. The theatres were good there, right?
Michigan Avenue at downtown Chicago is fondly called The Magnificent Mile. People love to stroll there and see the sights. Lots of stores and skyscrapers abound. It’s fun to think of Michigan Avenue because when youre a native of Chicago, you feel proud of it along with many other great hallmarks
it was my way…… the path i had chosen for my destination…. the way my dreams would come true……. the avenue….. my life…..
The avenue was jam packed with tourists. The street, despite the architecture, never seemed all that interesting to me, but to each his own. I never thought of Santa Fe as being a “tourist trap”, but I guess I was wrong. The city is about the spirit of those who came before us.
i walk along the avenue. i never thought i’d meet a guy like you. with black hair and deep brown eyes. the kind of eyes that hypnotize me through.
When I walked down the avenue, I saw his face. A total stranger, but he felt so familiar it felt like home. Our eyes lock for just a second as we realize what could happen. But then just like that, he was gone. Another opportunity wasted.
The avenue was crowded with people, bustling with the sounds of city life. I was uneasy- I’d never been in such a populated area, let alone by myself. I was lost in a sea of faces- black, brown, white, yellow- more diversity than I had ever seen in my sleepy country town.
she walked along, collecting oranges in her apron as she meandered down the avenue. she felt like the sun was shining just for her, as her blue eyes glistened and her dimples sent out waves of love into the far reaches of the universe. what a blessed gift, this life, these oranges, these dimples, this avenue.
Turning back.
This is a crossroad.
The road dog-legs to the left,
And I see the road the I have come from.
To the right,
A new avenue,
Cold and overgrown,
Looking down it, in my mind’s eye
I can’t see your face.
Gritting my teeth
I take the right path.