He was a cross between the ideal guy and exactly what she’d been running away from. Maybe this was the was the way to reconcile her two very separate worlds? Could she accept both sides of life?
She was really cross with her friends when they revealed her secrets. No longer would she tell them about her rich uncles and the hidden treasures under the home on the lake. This would be her very deepest secret.
The cross was falling to the ground, absent of rhythm, stoically and vastly. The blood was old and crusted, life was gone, a lie had flourished boldly.
Crossing things has become somewhat of a joke to people. But let me tell you its quite serious. I’m not talking about the religious figure here. I’m talking about physically heading to the other side, for better or worse.
Anna stared up at the wooden cross in front of her. With tears streaming down her flushed cheeks she prayed for Jesus to keep him alive. She needed him.
The pimple just kept getting bigger. I was being so good. I never even looked at it in the mirror, let alone touched it with any idea of squeezing it. Why couldn’t my skin just fix its imperfections without leaving me with this ever-expanding, disgusting, pus-filled cross to bear?
Cross town buses don’t run often enough to get you all the way across town when you need to go. I am going to be late again, I fucking well know it, and there is not a damned thing anyone can do about it. I just hope no one hangs me for it.
It’s interesting that the cross can mean so many things- the church comes to mind first. Then if you cross something out, that’s negative. A big read X is like a warning sign. Did you know that hobos in the 20’s and 30’s used the cross to mean okay, safe, good? It’s neat that one little symbol can have so many meanings.
Thank you for dying.
You didnt have to but you did.
For me, for him for her.
For people who will never believe you.
For people who never want to believe you.
Im happy that this second chance is here.
Im happy i accepted you in my life.
Im happy that I know your real.
Im happy that I’ll love everyone because you do.
I’ll love thoes who believe you & dont.
You died on the cross for me, just for me.
I cross my arms over my chest
Daydreaming once again about how we first crossed paths
and how neither of us can remember it
Wondering how you now can so casually cross out the future because you’re unwilling
to expend any effort
The distance, cross country
You’re afraid
I laid down, pinned down in a dominatrix, crucified by four paintings, which formed a cross in the room. Each was lavished with horrifying images of a women being eaten alive by vines with beaks instead of thorns. Cold.
cross the road. lke the chicken. but dont be a chicken about it. this is the world. and this is your life. now cross the road, and make of it what you will.
To cross paths with the one that you once loved could be heart-wrenching and painful, deep to your core. In the moment, it may feel good, to see the one that you gave so much too, but it’s going to be a world of hurt when you walk away from crossing paths with the one you loved so much.
everyone has their cross to bear, it is not worth comparing our troubles. what we need to focus on is how our troubles have made us who we are today and if you take them in stride you will be a better person for it. i have grown stronger and wiser because of my hardships. without them i would not be who i am today.
I sat in the treehouse with my best friend. We stared out into the abyss that was once our suburban playground. Years ago, this was where we were pirates, and mommies and daddies, andbikers, and skateboarders, artists and adventurists. It looked like an old photograph, forever preserved inour minds like it would in a museum– sepia-toned, and teared from the wear-and-tear of our memories.
“Promise me we’ll come back here when we’re older?” He asked, softly.
“Cross my heart. I sure hope so.”
I am cross. Furious in fact. I throw the chair. It breaks. I throw a mug. It smashes. I pick up the knife. I put it down. I pick it up again. And put it down. I stare at it and think, do i really want to do this?
“So, why did the chicken cross the road?” he asks with a silly grin. Everyone groans, annoyed at his continued insistence on telling this one ridiculous joke. “Aww, come on guys! It’s an easy one. I mean, I swear you haven’t heard this one before!” We give him the look that says ‘you said that the last five times David’ and, as one, jump him and begin to tickle him mercilessly.
I was extremely cross at their treatment of us. It wasn’t like we were royalty or anything but it would have been nice to be extended the basic courtesies! I’m not asking for much here, just a ‘please if you would’ or a ‘right this way ma’am’ instead of ‘You there! Come along!’ it was disgraceful really!
the cross on my chest weighs heavily and I run even faster. ahead I can see the fence and I stop for a moment. It is even highger than they told me. I can’t cross it.
Do not cross me. Because when I get angry, I like to keep it inside. And inside is one of the best places for anger to grow and build up until it is as tall as a 500 year old sequoia.
jesus died on the cross for most christians sins, i don’t believe this if of significance because there is no proof that anyones sins area actually forgiven. i think the message of this story is to just be good but if your not its ok just ask for forgiveness not from god, but from whomever you harmed.
Cross sind die Brötchen, ich kann reinbeißen und schmeißen damit irgendwohin in deinen Tee, nein du trinkst ja kaffee, und dann guckst du mich an und ich küss dich in die tasse zu dem brötchen dazu, das jetzt nicht mehr cross ist.
When i crossed you, my life changed within a mere second. I never knew you would be the one to console me at night, to fight my fears, to love me, to be with me.
The road sign was black and stood at a green corner between two roads. Someone was whistling and someone was kicking a ball, but no one was around. I sat on the pavement and tied my shoes. From behind me came movement. A finger tapped my shoulder. A voice said, “Finally. I’ve been waiting for centuries.”
Is the rapper I most prefered in the days of my youth. It wasn’t about the details, but about making want to stand out in a crowd.
There once was a man who carried a cross, and people made him into a god.
He was a cross between the ideal guy and exactly what she’d been running away from. Maybe this was the was the way to reconcile her two very separate worlds? Could she accept both sides of life?
She was really cross with her friends when they revealed her secrets. No longer would she tell them about her rich uncles and the hidden treasures under the home on the lake. This would be her very deepest secret.
The cross was falling to the ground, absent of rhythm, stoically and vastly. The blood was old and crusted, life was gone, a lie had flourished boldly.
Crossing things has become somewhat of a joke to people. But let me tell you its quite serious. I’m not talking about the religious figure here. I’m talking about physically heading to the other side, for better or worse.
Anna stared up at the wooden cross in front of her. With tears streaming down her flushed cheeks she prayed for Jesus to keep him alive. She needed him.
The pimple just kept getting bigger. I was being so good. I never even looked at it in the mirror, let alone touched it with any idea of squeezing it. Why couldn’t my skin just fix its imperfections without leaving me with this ever-expanding, disgusting, pus-filled cross to bear?
Cross town buses don’t run often enough to get you all the way across town when you need to go. I am going to be late again, I fucking well know it, and there is not a damned thing anyone can do about it. I just hope no one hangs me for it.
don’t cross me. as in, don’t make me mad. why did the chicken cross the road? i don’t want to write about religion. so thbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt :P
It’s interesting that the cross can mean so many things- the church comes to mind first. Then if you cross something out, that’s negative. A big read X is like a warning sign. Did you know that hobos in the 20’s and 30’s used the cross to mean okay, safe, good? It’s neat that one little symbol can have so many meanings.
Thank you for dying.
You didnt have to but you did.
For me, for him for her.
For people who will never believe you.
For people who never want to believe you.
Im happy that this second chance is here.
Im happy i accepted you in my life.
Im happy that I know your real.
Im happy that I’ll love everyone because you do.
I’ll love thoes who believe you & dont.
You died on the cross for me, just for me.
I cross my arms over my chest
Daydreaming once again about how we first crossed paths
and how neither of us can remember it
Wondering how you now can so casually cross out the future because you’re unwilling
to expend any effort
The distance, cross country
You’re afraid
“God hates fags.” “Fags go to hell.” I see those signs everywhere these days. I can’t even get away from them on the internet.
Tell me, when did the cross become a symbol for hate?
…I must be missing something here.
I laid down, pinned down in a dominatrix, crucified by four paintings, which formed a cross in the room. Each was lavished with horrifying images of a women being eaten alive by vines with beaks instead of thorns. Cold.
cross the road. lke the chicken. but dont be a chicken about it. this is the world. and this is your life. now cross the road, and make of it what you will.
Don’t cross me.
A cross to bear.
Cross, for Christianity, worn on a necklace.
Cross your legs.
Cross the room, your eyes locked into mine
To cross paths with the one that you once loved could be heart-wrenching and painful, deep to your core. In the moment, it may feel good, to see the one that you gave so much too, but it’s going to be a world of hurt when you walk away from crossing paths with the one you loved so much.
everyone has their cross to bear, it is not worth comparing our troubles. what we need to focus on is how our troubles have made us who we are today and if you take them in stride you will be a better person for it. i have grown stronger and wiser because of my hardships. without them i would not be who i am today.
I sat in the treehouse with my best friend. We stared out into the abyss that was once our suburban playground. Years ago, this was where we were pirates, and mommies and daddies, andbikers, and skateboarders, artists and adventurists. It looked like an old photograph, forever preserved inour minds like it would in a museum– sepia-toned, and teared from the wear-and-tear of our memories.
“Promise me we’ll come back here when we’re older?” He asked, softly.
“Cross my heart. I sure hope so.”
I am cross. Furious in fact. I throw the chair. It breaks. I throw a mug. It smashes. I pick up the knife. I put it down. I pick it up again. And put it down. I stare at it and think, do i really want to do this?
“So, why did the chicken cross the road?” he asks with a silly grin. Everyone groans, annoyed at his continued insistence on telling this one ridiculous joke. “Aww, come on guys! It’s an easy one. I mean, I swear you haven’t heard this one before!” We give him the look that says ‘you said that the last five times David’ and, as one, jump him and begin to tickle him mercilessly.
you died on the cross to save me. i never used to understand that until you came to my world in chicago. it was harsh, terrifying.
I was extremely cross at their treatment of us. It wasn’t like we were royalty or anything but it would have been nice to be extended the basic courtesies! I’m not asking for much here, just a ‘please if you would’ or a ‘right this way ma’am’ instead of ‘You there! Come along!’ it was disgraceful really!
the cross on my chest weighs heavily and I run even faster. ahead I can see the fence and I stop for a moment. It is even highger than they told me. I can’t cross it.
being cross is outward anger
feeling crossed is an inward insult
carrying a cross is a burden and salvation
or just what makes an L a T
Do not cross me. Because when I get angry, I like to keep it inside. And inside is one of the best places for anger to grow and build up until it is as tall as a 500 year old sequoia.
jesus died on the cross for most christians sins, i don’t believe this if of significance because there is no proof that anyones sins area actually forgiven. i think the message of this story is to just be good but if your not its ok just ask for forgiveness not from god, but from whomever you harmed.
She crossed herself at the sight of him out of habit really. There was no way god could save her from the mad creature before her.
The swords crossed as the two struggled to push one another down and sent sparks flying.
Across the sea is where he is.
Away from me so far.
I cross my arms around myself
And wish he wasn’t gone
The cross is a symbol of hope and of death, quite the paradox. In crosses people find hope of becoming better than their current selves.
Cross sind die Brötchen, ich kann reinbeißen und schmeißen damit irgendwohin in deinen Tee, nein du trinkst ja kaffee, und dann guckst du mich an und ich küss dich in die tasse zu dem brötchen dazu, das jetzt nicht mehr cross ist.
never get angry when you cross the road or cross when the road crosses you.
he sat there staring at the image. ‘Funny, I don’t see why it is so important’. The little girl said ‘you don’t believe’.
When i crossed you, my life changed within a mere second. I never knew you would be the one to console me at night, to fight my fears, to love me, to be with me.
The road sign was black and stood at a green corner between two roads. Someone was whistling and someone was kicking a ball, but no one was around. I sat on the pavement and tied my shoes. From behind me came movement. A finger tapped my shoulder. A voice said, “Finally. I’ve been waiting for centuries.”
Kindness, Expressions of Love and Cooperation.
across. A cross. The curves of the letters
Cross.
Criss-cross.
Crosses.
I’m only human with my cross to bear.
How did it turn to this?
How did this happen?