phone i like it. i call my boyfriend and my best friend and my family on it. it’s the perfect means of communication when i want to hear their voices and can’t see their faces
ever thing depends on wheather or not you want him to be calling for you or youre calling for some one else. maybe he never watns to call. how is that that knowing a nam e will help
You’re calling me closer like a hurricane, dragging me in with every breath that you take. You’re strong – you always have been. I just wish I was stronger.
I’m calling you, You come over. Or you don’t answer, either of which is a response.. being unresponsive is a response. Calling you names, Its a calling from heaven!
He had heard all his life that he had to find a “real” calling. An actual career, something to be proud of. As far as he was concerned, though, the life of a bard was the only one that called his name.
Wow, “calling” is a loaded word. Funny that I went to a writer’s page and found the word “calling” as my personal word. It is like when I was at the Aftercare group and when it was my turn to read out the tips, mine was to write the book I had always wanted to write.
No one’s calling. That’s the problem isn’t it? We all just sit by the phone, waiting for it to ring, instead of getting up and doing something about it. I’m not waiting anymore. At least, I don’t think I am.
“London’s calling, sorry, got to go!” she quickly mumbled into the telephone before slamming it down into the receiver. She let out a breath of relief and rubbed her head with one gloved hand, the other still delicately holding onto the phone.
calling you would be easy but i want to punish you for not calling first. i don’t think a relationship should be based on punishment. i feel like I’m doing all the work. why won’t you just call?
I hear you calling me from the hallway. I curl up a little tighter in my sheets, not wanting to get up and face the chill of the day. You call again, more urgency in your tone pushing me upright.
My calling seems to be teaching – I’m good at it, I make a difference; kids and colleagues appear to like and respect me. I do’t like to teach. I get frustrated at the lack of parent involvement.
Do you have a special calling in life? A God-given role, something to work at that is larger than yourself? It is deep, rich and meaningful to discover what that is. Each person is uniquely created for a special purpose.
you’re everywhere. to the sight, touch, smell, even in my mind. so many words I wish I could tell you, so many feelings I wish I could show you. but I can’t even remember what I set as your ringtone…
I’ve been calling you, though you may not realize it now. Soon, when you least expect is, say as you are turning a street corner downtown, your heels clacking, petticoat ruffling in the unforgiving wind, you’ll hear my voice and regardless of will, be drawn. Soon.
Calling a phone is a good way to waste the afternoon when someone picks up I wonder who they are and what they look like how long there hair is if they’re smiling and the last time I saw them who was that why am I not there
Everyday I hear that voice inside me. It yearns, aches, pains. It wants me to follow it, but I never can. Its always on my mind and in my heart, but in my hand.
He never called. I sat by the phone, waiting for hours and hours and hours. The call never came. He never called. It hurt. I wanted so badly to scream at him. But he didn’t call. I couldn’t scream at him. And that hurt even more than his not calling did.
Greg looked at the phone. It hadn’t rung nor was he planning on making a call. He had no friends, his family had long since moved, and even the credit card companies seemed to no longer be interested in him. He contemplated calling an old high school but didn’t know the name nor the number. The phone was left on the hook.
The windows shudder, the curtains strangle and the light palpitates before forsaking this wretched night. I wander and stumble, but I can’t hear you calling, and to your memory, I can only hold tight.
He wasn’t sure what his calling was; all he knew was that he had to find it. Everyone around him had already found theirs – doctors, graphic designers, scientists, teachers, linguists… the Decided were all around him, mocking his indecision and giving it names with their derisive stares: Inadequacy, Weakness, Failure.
You are calling from a telephone booth in a city unknown to those back home. You are pushing a loose strand of unwashed hair behind your ear and reminding yourself that this is how you want it. You are biting your lip to keep the tears from falling as your mother pleads for you to come back. You tell her that that house is not your home and that things are never simple in the end. You are saying goodbye and your lip is now bleeding red red red.
I need to find out what my calling in life is. And soon. I’m 36 years old and I still have no idea what I want to do when I grow up. Some people know when they’re 4. I’m still lost. I need some guidance. Help.
she kept calling out for him – silently. hoping he would come back… why would he leave her here? she barely knew where she was. she barely knew these people. worst of all she felt like she barely knew herself anymore. everything was hazy. she felt like she was going to pass out from everything she swallowed and inhaled that night. instead she got up, grabbed a beer, went to the comfort of the fire and started a conversation with the first smiling face she saw.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Answer
Or just silence the persistant noise
My ring finger slid down the button, quiet.
Que my recording…
Please leave a message after the beep.
….
Beep.
My true calling. What is it? that’s my question every day, to myself and to others. What am I passionate about, what do I wanto to do with the rest of my life? How much time do I have left? What is worth it? Questions, questions, questions, no answers. Fuck!
i call your name
but do you hear?
can you feel the wind?
deaf to my words.
deaf to your name.
you will forever be forgotten
and never be held responsible for what you’re left for.
and you’re left for dead.
hello? anyone?
phone i like it. i call my boyfriend and my best friend and my family on it. it’s the perfect means of communication when i want to hear their voices and can’t see their faces
ever thing depends on wheather or not you want him to be calling for you or youre calling for some one else. maybe he never watns to call. how is that that knowing a nam e will help
You’re calling me closer like a hurricane, dragging me in with every breath that you take. You’re strong – you always have been. I just wish I was stronger.
I’m calling you, You come over. Or you don’t answer, either of which is a response.. being unresponsive is a response. Calling you names, Its a calling from heaven!
He had heard all his life that he had to find a “real” calling. An actual career, something to be proud of. As far as he was concerned, though, the life of a bard was the only one that called his name.
Calling all superheros. Anyone?
Anyone?
Huh.
Well I’M sure as hell not putting on a damn cape.
If I have a calling, how will I know?
Could I have someone call me?
“Hey: you were meant to save the world.”
mmmK. Thanks. I’ll get on it.
Wow, “calling” is a loaded word. Funny that I went to a writer’s page and found the word “calling” as my personal word. It is like when I was at the Aftercare group and when it was my turn to read out the tips, mine was to write the book I had always wanted to write.
No one’s calling. That’s the problem isn’t it? We all just sit by the phone, waiting for it to ring, instead of getting up and doing something about it. I’m not waiting anymore. At least, I don’t think I am.
“London’s calling, sorry, got to go!” she quickly mumbled into the telephone before slamming it down into the receiver. She let out a breath of relief and rubbed her head with one gloved hand, the other still delicately holding onto the phone.
Who is this?
You can’t tell by the accent? Can you hear the tea and fish ‘n chips in my voice?
Oh, it’s London!
calling would mean giving in.
maybe that’s not a bad thing.
calling you would be easy but i want to punish you for not calling first. i don’t think a relationship should be based on punishment. i feel like I’m doing all the work. why won’t you just call?
calling my friend in the water, a speck of color floats at the bottom of the sink
I hear you calling me from the hallway. I curl up a little tighter in my sheets, not wanting to get up and face the chill of the day. You call again, more urgency in your tone pushing me upright.
“What is it?”
My calling seems to be teaching – I’m good at it, I make a difference; kids and colleagues appear to like and respect me. I do’t like to teach. I get frustrated at the lack of parent involvement.
Something is calling me,
deep within my stomach,
and it’s unnamable,
unfathomable,
something I can’t control.
The desire to live.
And simply be.
I’ll be calling you to see if you’re sleeping are you dreaming if you’re dreaming are you dreaming of me – blue octobe
i heard you calling
as you danced through the river.
was i to follow?
I’ve been calling for you for a thousand years. For one thousand years I’ve been waiting here. I don’t remember your face or your name.
Do you have a special calling in life? A God-given role, something to work at that is larger than yourself? It is deep, rich and meaningful to discover what that is. Each person is uniquely created for a special purpose.
you’re everywhere. to the sight, touch, smell, even in my mind. so many words I wish I could tell you, so many feelings I wish I could show you. but I can’t even remember what I set as your ringtone…
I’ve been calling you, though you may not realize it now. Soon, when you least expect is, say as you are turning a street corner downtown, your heels clacking, petticoat ruffling in the unforgiving wind, you’ll hear my voice and regardless of will, be drawn. Soon.
Calling a phone is a good way to waste the afternoon when someone picks up I wonder who they are and what they look like how long there hair is if they’re smiling and the last time I saw them who was that why am I not there
Everyday I hear that voice inside me. It yearns, aches, pains. It wants me to follow it, but I never can. Its always on my mind and in my heart, but in my hand.
He never called. I sat by the phone, waiting for hours and hours and hours. The call never came. He never called. It hurt. I wanted so badly to scream at him. But he didn’t call. I couldn’t scream at him. And that hurt even more than his not calling did.
Greg looked at the phone. It hadn’t rung nor was he planning on making a call. He had no friends, his family had long since moved, and even the credit card companies seemed to no longer be interested in him. He contemplated calling an old high school but didn’t know the name nor the number. The phone was left on the hook.
The windows shudder, the curtains strangle and the light palpitates before forsaking this wretched night. I wander and stumble, but I can’t hear you calling, and to your memory, I can only hold tight.
He wasn’t sure what his calling was; all he knew was that he had to find it. Everyone around him had already found theirs – doctors, graphic designers, scientists, teachers, linguists… the Decided were all around him, mocking his indecision and giving it names with their derisive stares: Inadequacy, Weakness, Failure.
You are calling from a telephone booth in a city unknown to those back home. You are pushing a loose strand of unwashed hair behind your ear and reminding yourself that this is how you want it. You are biting your lip to keep the tears from falling as your mother pleads for you to come back. You tell her that that house is not your home and that things are never simple in the end. You are saying goodbye and your lip is now bleeding red red red.
God’s been calling me for awhile, I just haven’t picked up the phone anymore.
I need to find out what my calling in life is. And soon. I’m 36 years old and I still have no idea what I want to do when I grow up. Some people know when they’re 4. I’m still lost. I need some guidance. Help.
Calling cross-country to tell you how I feel but the cords are tangled and the miles and miles in between cause my words to crackle from the static.
she kept calling out for him – silently. hoping he would come back… why would he leave her here? she barely knew where she was. she barely knew these people. worst of all she felt like she barely knew herself anymore. everything was hazy. she felt like she was going to pass out from everything she swallowed and inhaled that night. instead she got up, grabbed a beer, went to the comfort of the fire and started a conversation with the first smiling face she saw.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Answer
Or just silence the persistant noise
My ring finger slid down the button, quiet.
Que my recording…
Please leave a message after the beep.
….
Beep.
I just tried calling you. No answer. I hope you find I called, and call me back like you usually do. happily waiting
-p.t.
My true calling. What is it? that’s my question every day, to myself and to others. What am I passionate about, what do I wanto to do with the rest of my life? How much time do I have left? What is worth it? Questions, questions, questions, no answers. Fuck!
we talked all night and day. It was so darling, how we thought it could last forever.
i call your name
but do you hear?
can you feel the wind?
deaf to my words.
deaf to your name.
you will forever be forgotten
and never be held responsible for what you’re left for.
and you’re left for dead.