Crossing the street, I saw him. The destiny that so quickly had been taken from me and which I had seen slipping away from behind a large church column. There he was, pouring the gold coins in her hands and her, wearing my white dress. They had to be cursed, Manuela whispered behind me. “They say the couple is cursed.” She repeated.
I think you fucking fail at crossig over rivers, bridges and landmarks in which crossing = win… you must go die by crossing over to homosexuality and blow up a sheep with your ass covoured in lemons crossing over to grrness with your fucking face and shit….
while crossing the street yesterday Icame across an elephant. he gave me a peanut that I immediately consumed. Afterwards, I saw a starving squirrel and I immediately felt remorseful. how could I be so selfish? How could I allow such suffering to happen for nothing? There is so much more to this life than our own interests and well being. There is a world beyond ourselves and it is crying out for our help.
the worlds and the planets crossed paths once in 28,000 years leading to the pole shift that was talked about in ancient aztec and sumeriam texts – is that really going to happen on 2012 is all that stuff possible, why if not did it come from.
selleing travels from each other so taht you can earn money on each others travels. its called cross selling because you cross the selling limits. om g this is stressful. but its still ticking. fuck. noto ver.
Imagine crossing a beautiful bridge. On the other side there are green fields, birds and trees. Its a crossing from the bad side over to the good side. You have to make a dash for it as the bridge may collapse.
my path with a lion i tried to take the thorn out but he tried to bite my head off, what you doin that for i exclaimed. what you mean said the lion, i’m a lion its my duty to bite the heads of humans, humans and sheep and bananas but nothing else
And so we were at another crossing. Where do we go from here? Are you going to be the one person to hold my hand and help me across or are you going to go in the opposite direction. So many choices, so many pathways.
I was crossing over, you know, to the other side one day. I’d died for the eighth time and decided that I’d had enough. But I got called back. It seems the Reaper had grown fond of our bi-monthly game of Ludo. I acquiesced, took my seat and rolled the dice…
over bounds across the sea with the beautiful blue colors, there’s a seagull hanging in the wind as if stick on a string, the wind keeps him in his place.
the river styx, crossing… wondering, if the travel involves mind, body, soul, love… or just dreams… I think, and hope it’s the whole… What do you think? Maybe I should consider the possibilities of the journey, crossing waters, any waters, of time, space and love.
When I am sleepless, I begin walking the house as though I am looking for something. And after a few circuits, I believe I am, and it turns out what I am searching for is the checkpoint, the border crossing where the dozing guard has let his rifle fall into the grass and his glasses slip down his nose, and I tiptoe past him into Oblivion.
the crossing of the banks took part on Monday. It is just another one of the borin g rituals that all maids, such as i have to do.we walk over the bridge and to the other side wear we place flowers on the pavilian.
when the leaves turn blue on the trees, I always remember the crossing of the great space between earth and Norella. I was sixteen at the time, and being cooped up on a starship for six months was not fun. but my parens always said well, at least we have the lightdrive. Only ten years ago, this trip took 20 years.
Ah, the fine, thin line crossing over between dreams and reality, destiny and taking one’s life in one’s own hands. How many sunset’s have been spoiled by my memory calling up yet another sky more brilliantly illuminated?
crossing guard. yellow and orange gear in the middle of the street helping middle schoolers and high schoolers cross the street to their respective family cars where their parents are waiting. a crossing binds 2 meeting places together where people can set up an appointment to meet one another at a given time.
it was the place where there was no turning back from.. she stood, looked back at him.. maybe this wasn’t meant to be after all.. or may be just maybe he’d come after her.. crossing the path from life to death… she’d wait
just like she always had waited..
Crossing before the muzzle-loading rifle pasture a field of elves shouted to a sudden feeling of contemptuousness rising above the horizon. Still, I couldn’t accept it.
we crossed paths many a time. crossing with words and crossing with legs arms feet and hands. our fingers crossed each others. sometimes they locked into place never letting each other go. other times they hardly held on to each other. this time around our arms are crossed against our hearts and this time the crossing never ends.
Imagine. I am crossing the road. Imagine. You are crossing from the other side. Imagine. what would happen? what would you say to me? Imagine. I recognise but you don’t recongise me as usual. Even if you don’t recognise me, I will hold your hand. I will see your surprise and then your smile. I will cross with you… I will go with you… anyway you go…
makes me think of chickens crossing roads and how ridiculous it seems.
but its really quite metaphoric really
i don’t know what its a metaphor for, you can figure that part out..
what a waste of a one word
I am crossing into a different phase of my life. Before I was a girl and not I am crossing into my womanhood. Will the qualities that people liked in the girl like my passion and fire go with me into my womanhood? I hope so.
The act of changing. Changing from one state to another. Something that is necessary for our development, which does not always mean it is easy and joyful.
I’m crossing some sort of barrier in my life that I can no longer define. I’m neither sober nor relapsing. I’m no longer living in my addiction but I’m also not allowing anybody to tell me what I’m doing wrong anymore. For the first time, it finally feels like I’m crossing the street in the right direction. I really do just hope the world hands out a stop sign soon.
in een paar luttele seconden het leven beschrijven. een lege page die zich aan mij vraagt het te vullen met zo onwijs veel da gaat niet lukken. neem maar een kijkje in mijn hersenen en weet dat te omschrijven;)
There was a man crossing a river with no expectations of what he would find on the other side. He took his hat and coat and put them in a plastic bag for he did not want them to get wet. Without any words necessary he let himself be taken by the current. The crossing took five miles, and that was fine, he was here he needed and wanted to be. Where that was, not a thought was needed for it.
Crossing the street, I saw him. The destiny that so quickly had been taken from me and which I had seen slipping away from behind a large church column. There he was, pouring the gold coins in her hands and her, wearing my white dress. They had to be cursed, Manuela whispered behind me. “They say the couple is cursed.” She repeated.
I think you fucking fail at crossig over rivers, bridges and landmarks in which crossing = win… you must go die by crossing over to homosexuality and blow up a sheep with your ass covoured in lemons crossing over to grrness with your fucking face and shit….
while crossing the street yesterday Icame across an elephant. he gave me a peanut that I immediately consumed. Afterwards, I saw a starving squirrel and I immediately felt remorseful. how could I be so selfish? How could I allow such suffering to happen for nothing? There is so much more to this life than our own interests and well being. There is a world beyond ourselves and it is crying out for our help.
the worlds and the planets crossed paths once in 28,000 years leading to the pole shift that was talked about in ancient aztec and sumeriam texts – is that really going to happen on 2012 is all that stuff possible, why if not did it come from.
selleing travels from each other so taht you can earn money on each others travels. its called cross selling because you cross the selling limits. om g this is stressful. but its still ticking. fuck. noto ver.
i find myself crossing over from reality into fantasy so often at times i wonder whether there is any difference at all…
Imagine crossing a beautiful bridge. On the other side there are green fields, birds and trees. Its a crossing from the bad side over to the good side. You have to make a dash for it as the bridge may collapse.
my path with a lion i tried to take the thorn out but he tried to bite my head off, what you doin that for i exclaimed. what you mean said the lion, i’m a lion its my duty to bite the heads of humans, humans and sheep and bananas but nothing else
And so we were at another crossing. Where do we go from here? Are you going to be the one person to hold my hand and help me across or are you going to go in the opposite direction. So many choices, so many pathways.
I was crossing over, you know, to the other side one day. I’d died for the eighth time and decided that I’d had enough. But I got called back. It seems the Reaper had grown fond of our bi-monthly game of Ludo. I acquiesced, took my seat and rolled the dice…
over bounds across the sea with the beautiful blue colors, there’s a seagull hanging in the wind as if stick on a string, the wind keeps him in his place.
the river styx, crossing… wondering, if the travel involves mind, body, soul, love… or just dreams… I think, and hope it’s the whole… What do you think? Maybe I should consider the possibilities of the journey, crossing waters, any waters, of time, space and love.
When I am sleepless, I begin walking the house as though I am looking for something. And after a few circuits, I believe I am, and it turns out what I am searching for is the checkpoint, the border crossing where the dozing guard has let his rifle fall into the grass and his glasses slip down his nose, and I tiptoe past him into Oblivion.
of the steps, meet a cat, come home, jesus, jordan, the street, lines, exciting
the crossing of the banks took part on Monday. It is just another one of the borin g rituals that all maids, such as i have to do.we walk over the bridge and to the other side wear we place flowers on the pavilian.
when the leaves turn blue on the trees, I always remember the crossing of the great space between earth and Norella. I was sixteen at the time, and being cooped up on a starship for six months was not fun. but my parens always said well, at least we have the lightdrive. Only ten years ago, this trip took 20 years.
Ah, the fine, thin line crossing over between dreams and reality, destiny and taking one’s life in one’s own hands. How many sunset’s have been spoiled by my memory calling up yet another sky more brilliantly illuminated?
i’m not going
crossing guard. yellow and orange gear in the middle of the street helping middle schoolers and high schoolers cross the street to their respective family cars where their parents are waiting. a crossing binds 2 meeting places together where people can set up an appointment to meet one another at a given time.
it was the place where there was no turning back from.. she stood, looked back at him.. maybe this wasn’t meant to be after all.. or may be just maybe he’d come after her.. crossing the path from life to death… she’d wait
just like she always had waited..
he stood watching as her eyes closed
Crossing before the muzzle-loading rifle pasture a field of elves shouted to a sudden feeling of contemptuousness rising above the horizon. Still, I couldn’t accept it.
crossing over
we crossed paths many a time. crossing with words and crossing with legs arms feet and hands. our fingers crossed each others. sometimes they locked into place never letting each other go. other times they hardly held on to each other. this time around our arms are crossed against our hearts and this time the crossing never ends.
I’m crossing the entire world for you
Imagine. I am crossing the road. Imagine. You are crossing from the other side. Imagine. what would happen? what would you say to me? Imagine. I recognise but you don’t recongise me as usual. Even if you don’t recognise me, I will hold your hand. I will see your surprise and then your smile. I will cross with you… I will go with you… anyway you go…
crossed the road never crossed,
every car so close to squashing.
every step I grow closer,
I can see the final side.
The past adventure was exciting.
makes me think of chickens crossing roads and how ridiculous it seems.
but its really quite metaphoric really
i don’t know what its a metaphor for, you can figure that part out..
what a waste of a one word
I am crossing into a different phase of my life. Before I was a girl and not I am crossing into my womanhood. Will the qualities that people liked in the girl like my passion and fire go with me into my womanhood? I hope so.
Crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s has never been so hard.
I think I’ll just let my writing flow now. All you’ll ever see are loops and lines.
That’s all there ever was to see.
The act of changing. Changing from one state to another. Something that is necessary for our development, which does not always mean it is easy and joyful.
crossing the road. crossing at a level crossing. be safe. avoid the transport.
the next step for learning, evolve as a person.
the next step for learning, evolve as a person.
the next step for learning, evolve as a person.
the next step for learning, evolve as a person.
the next step for learning, evolve as a person.
I’m crossing some sort of barrier in my life that I can no longer define. I’m neither sober nor relapsing. I’m no longer living in my addiction but I’m also not allowing anybody to tell me what I’m doing wrong anymore. For the first time, it finally feels like I’m crossing the street in the right direction. I really do just hope the world hands out a stop sign soon.
i was at a railroad crossing, I stopped to watch tiny blue flowers on the onther side of the tracks. they were waving in the cool breeze
in een paar luttele seconden het leven beschrijven. een lege page die zich aan mij vraagt het te vullen met zo onwijs veel da gaat niet lukken. neem maar een kijkje in mijn hersenen en weet dat te omschrijven;)
There was a man crossing a river with no expectations of what he would find on the other side. He took his hat and coat and put them in a plastic bag for he did not want them to get wet. Without any words necessary he let himself be taken by the current. The crossing took five miles, and that was fine, he was here he needed and wanted to be. Where that was, not a thought was needed for it.