It’s not the way they say it is
life has seasons, true,
but it’s a world of newness,
change, not all about cylce
and repeating the sins we commit
and regretting
The cycle is what we live in. It’s what we hate and what we depend on. Life itself is a cycle, and every small event we experience is part of a cycle. rarely is there a break in the cycle, life goes on, round and round, and we can’t get away from it. Break out. Change what you want, get yourself out of there.
There was once this cycle see and it was big right and i loved it alot and i got it for my brothday en i was 3 and it was fun god it was fun and red and big and lovely hellya so i liked t alot alooott
so how are you cycle? i would say and on good days the cycle would roll away on bad days she’d just sit there and stare at me
bikes – patrick used to ride them and that is how I met Hugh who I dated for four months and learned a lot from, but now absolutely depise him as I am now realising how poorly he treated me.
like a bike or a life cycle mother nature and things like that. there is also popcycles which are damn yummy. tricycles are what little kids ride so they do not get hurt and fall off.
it was a huge, black ring. it was anxiety breeding thing, terrible in it’s might. and yet, all it was was a ring. A cycle, that no-one could get out of. it turned my stomach to think about it, and it hurt to my heart to see it grow, as more and more people joined in it. it kept turning slowly, growing at all times.
Reading “The Courage to Heal” reminds us that healing is a process that cycles us through similar states of dealing with pain. But it is actually a spiral; you are a step deeper or further along when you come back to a similar step in the cycle.
the cycle of life, of love, of the moon around the sun, of the waves back and forth. The turning of wheels, the relationship of entities . The cycle of life, of birth, of death, folding into each other like beaten rain clouds.
bicycle. last week someone told me about riding trough the night from university with 30other people from bristol to wales and getting nearly arrested on the way. i love cycling in the summer, little roads with a picnic, not that i’ve ever done it but enid blyton wants me to. i want to be able to fix my own chain and carry panniers, but my bike is left in the garage of our freind’s house because people keep stealing them out of our garden.
riding around and around, wind in my haire sun on my head laughing. Summer in germany. Big groups of taking up the whole road, piling on the back of some oneelses bike all collapsing on the playing fields and lounging about until the sun goes down.
There once was a cyclist who was named bob. He rode his bicycle all over Europe, through the Pyrenees, through the Alps and across the steppes of Russia. One day he had a heart attack and died. So concluded the cycle of life.
The cycle swerved down the corridor inside the house where the crazy man lived. Through and through, the mailman was determined to deliver the last package of the day. There was no chance in hell he’d want to return tomorrow. Too rustic for his liking. Too musty.
you don’t say you love me but you expect me to just know it. i say i love you to you, and you say you love me too, but i’m not sure you love me, cos you don’t tell me you love me. i want you to tell me you love me, but you don’t say it. you expect me to know though.
everything’s a cycle. sometimes it just doesn’t work. sometimes it’s stifled and frigid and gross. other times it’s used to the way it goes. it’s perfect. i can’t take it.
around I go with you and it just never ends how can I see you when I have no faith. This never ends, I will never stop missing you and yet I like this aloneness that I feel. I guess I will wear this never ending streak of pain on my heart forever.
Cycle is like round. it’s a phase. cycle is bicycling. It’s never-ending. Cycles are continous. You go through one cycle and onto the next one. In life, we go through make cycling. Just as represenative is bicycling where each revoluation of the spokes is a completed cycle.
Cycle, thats a pretty stupid word. Im thinking about the water cycle, biology was so boring. Our teacher was pretty stupid. Im done writing so ill wait for the time to run out.
Reminds me of recycling the most, I guess. But also, there the cycle of life. Hmm, I know there isn’t a right answer to this but I feel like there a certain something that I should be thinking of while reading that word. I guess the first thing I noticed before anything else was that the letter “c” wasn’t capitalized. I wonder if they did it on purpose or not. I can’t when things are not capitalized. I know it’s like a modern look for it not to be capitalized or something but it bothers the crap out of me. My phone’s ringing right now but since I’m typing this for a whole minute, I can’t pick it up or I won’t be writing this whole time. My hand’s starting to cramp up.
cycle down a hill. really fast. The water cycle, evaporation. fed up with revison. have five exams week monday. fed up with life. like tim too much. he hates me and thinks im stupid hummph :)
lifecycle middle age, friends who can only thing of death, people who are actually dying…or think they are…it makes me fall to my knees laughing , occasionally..
It begins when I notice the pain in my breasts is intolerable. That is followed by the dry mouth and then the ravenous appetite and then the irritability that sends my fiance to work earlier and home later. I crave hotdogs, but cry after I eat them because “I’m fat”. I tear at6y my skin and brush my hair to hard, I loathe my body and hate the decisions I’ve made. I suffer endlessly it seems like, with no limit to my deep mood swings. My body erupts with blood. The pain subsides, the energy returns. I think of the menopause that I’ll face one day and I thank god the women in my family seem to handle it well. Only slightly nuts. Pleasent nuts. Talking to dogs and claiming that good food is causing them to orgasm. The latter upsets me when I’m with my mother. When Halloumi and baguette seem to make her twist seductively in her chair. It’s disgusting. Enough to push a daughter over the edge.
I cycled down Warwick Avenue. It was a place of reflection and thought, a place where one can be at peace with one’s self. Cycling effortlessly down the tarmac path surrounded by trees, occasional glimpses of a lake reaching you eyes in between the trees which slowly go past. I cannot imagine a better place to be.
It’s not the way they say it is
life has seasons, true,
but it’s a world of newness,
change, not all about cylce
and repeating the sins we commit
and regretting
The cycle is what we live in. It’s what we hate and what we depend on. Life itself is a cycle, and every small event we experience is part of a cycle. rarely is there a break in the cycle, life goes on, round and round, and we can’t get away from it. Break out. Change what you want, get yourself out of there.
There was once this cycle see and it was big right and i loved it alot and i got it for my brothday en i was 3 and it was fun god it was fun and red and big and lovely hellya so i liked t alot alooott
so how are you cycle? i would say and on good days the cycle would roll away on bad days she’d just sit there and stare at me
bikes – patrick used to ride them and that is how I met Hugh who I dated for four months and learned a lot from, but now absolutely depise him as I am now realising how poorly he treated me.
like a bike or a life cycle mother nature and things like that. there is also popcycles which are damn yummy. tricycles are what little kids ride so they do not get hurt and fall off.
it was a huge, black ring. it was anxiety breeding thing, terrible in it’s might. and yet, all it was was a ring. A cycle, that no-one could get out of. it turned my stomach to think about it, and it hurt to my heart to see it grow, as more and more people joined in it. it kept turning slowly, growing at all times.
Reading “The Courage to Heal” reminds us that healing is a process that cycles us through similar states of dealing with pain. But it is actually a spiral; you are a step deeper or further along when you come back to a similar step in the cycle.
what an I supposed to be doing here?
the cycle is long. it lasts for many years until the time runs out. eventually, the cycle undergoes mitosis and divides to form a bi-cycle.
what am i to say ,,its continuous ,,cycle but my typing isnt ,,!
to go out on the bike and ride around the park, into town, see friends, to watch the washing go round on the next cycle…
the cycle of life, of love, of the moon around the sun, of the waves back and forth. The turning of wheels, the relationship of entities . The cycle of life, of birth, of death, folding into each other like beaten rain clouds.
What can I say about cycle? :-D
Nice site… really.. I’m curious…
bicycle. last week someone told me about riding trough the night from university with 30other people from bristol to wales and getting nearly arrested on the way. i love cycling in the summer, little roads with a picnic, not that i’ve ever done it but enid blyton wants me to. i want to be able to fix my own chain and carry panniers, but my bike is left in the garage of our freind’s house because people keep stealing them out of our garden.
one day I will cycle across the brookyln bridge to work everyday….
supernothing
riding around and around, wind in my haire sun on my head laughing. Summer in germany. Big groups of taking up the whole road, piling on the back of some oneelses bike all collapsing on the playing fields and lounging about until the sun goes down.
one by one by
two by two by
me you sit it’s
day by day and
week by week we
do our daily
made routine i
sing a circle
dance a tune
There once was a cyclist who was named bob. He rode his bicycle all over Europe, through the Pyrenees, through the Alps and across the steppes of Russia. One day he had a heart attack and died. So concluded the cycle of life.
Like a long lost friend. A past time activities in my younger days. Feeling the air on my face and the speed in my hair.
It’s like gaining freedom!
The cycle swerved down the corridor inside the house where the crazy man lived. Through and through, the mailman was determined to deliver the last package of the day. There was no chance in hell he’d want to return tomorrow. Too rustic for his liking. Too musty.
you don’t say you love me but you expect me to just know it. i say i love you to you, and you say you love me too, but i’m not sure you love me, cos you don’t tell me you love me. i want you to tell me you love me, but you don’t say it. you expect me to know though.
everything’s a cycle. sometimes it just doesn’t work. sometimes it’s stifled and frigid and gross. other times it’s used to the way it goes. it’s perfect. i can’t take it.
a person well known for bad reason
around I go with you and it just never ends how can I see you when I have no faith. This never ends, I will never stop missing you and yet I like this aloneness that I feel. I guess I will wear this never ending streak of pain on my heart forever.
Cycle is like round. it’s a phase. cycle is bicycling. It’s never-ending. Cycles are continous. You go through one cycle and onto the next one. In life, we go through make cycling. Just as represenative is bicycling where each revoluation of the spokes is a completed cycle.
scrumptious
Bicycle, if thats how its spelled… spelt? Yes definItely spelled.
Nice idea for a site, but not going to come back again. Thanks to stumbleupons endless fun!
Cycle, thats a pretty stupid word. Im thinking about the water cycle, biology was so boring. Our teacher was pretty stupid. Im done writing so ill wait for the time to run out.
Reminds me of recycling the most, I guess. But also, there the cycle of life. Hmm, I know there isn’t a right answer to this but I feel like there a certain something that I should be thinking of while reading that word. I guess the first thing I noticed before anything else was that the letter “c” wasn’t capitalized. I wonder if they did it on purpose or not. I can’t when things are not capitalized. I know it’s like a modern look for it not to be capitalized or something but it bothers the crap out of me. My phone’s ringing right now but since I’m typing this for a whole minute, I can’t pick it up or I won’t be writing this whole time. My hand’s starting to cramp up.
life, room for one, maybe two…be careful; no one is looking out for you.
vicious, this is.
reduce, reuse, recycle. i have the ultimate writer’s block.
round and round. always connected. like riding forever. maybe long and gratuitous. maybe short and vicious.
cycle down a hill. really fast. The water cycle, evaporation. fed up with revison. have five exams week monday. fed up with life. like tim too much. he hates me and thinks im stupid hummph :)
Nice thing to ride. Had one as a child. Had one as a Adult. Would like to start riding it again, but it needs fixing. Got two flat typers. Boo Hoo !.
Might take the stanilisers of my sons one soon.
lifecycle middle age, friends who can only thing of death, people who are actually dying…or think they are…it makes me fall to my knees laughing , occasionally..
It begins when I notice the pain in my breasts is intolerable. That is followed by the dry mouth and then the ravenous appetite and then the irritability that sends my fiance to work earlier and home later. I crave hotdogs, but cry after I eat them because “I’m fat”. I tear at6y my skin and brush my hair to hard, I loathe my body and hate the decisions I’ve made. I suffer endlessly it seems like, with no limit to my deep mood swings. My body erupts with blood. The pain subsides, the energy returns. I think of the menopause that I’ll face one day and I thank god the women in my family seem to handle it well. Only slightly nuts. Pleasent nuts. Talking to dogs and claiming that good food is causing them to orgasm. The latter upsets me when I’m with my mother. When Halloumi and baguette seem to make her twist seductively in her chair. It’s disgusting. Enough to push a daughter over the edge.
gears and all your unearthly machinations, abominations. green to red to gray.
I cycled down Warwick Avenue. It was a place of reflection and thought, a place where one can be at peace with one’s self. Cycling effortlessly down the tarmac path surrounded by trees, occasional glimpses of a lake reaching you eyes in between the trees which slowly go past. I cannot imagine a better place to be.