Driven, what does that word mean? Is it being pushed or pulled? Is it a natural course of action? I don’t know. I feel like it is a word used by hard working people to describe themselves and it makes less hard working people feel bad about themselves. I’ve always felt excluded from this word though truthfully, I shouldn’t feel that way about it at all. When I think of the word ‘driven’ I get an anxious feeling in the pit of my stomache like i’m standing at the foot of a pile of hard work that needs to be done. Driven should be abolished from the dictionary I think… and maybe replaced with a less intimidating word.
I was always driven, as a youth. But I’m not sure it ever got me anywhere. That’s the thing about driving, I mean — hopefully — there’s some direction, somewhere where you’re going. Maybe not. Seem to have lost mine here…
He felt like he was driven to run away. He saw her and thought it would be the perfect time to make a clean get away. And leave us all behind. Leave me behind. Since when did the idea seem rational in his mind?
I was driven far from home. The road was dark. The sun was absent. I couldn’t see where I was heading, but I could tell it would be a great roadtrip. Undoubtedly filled with anger and fear, but great, nevertheless.
People are driven to do crazy things. Tomorrow in my hometown there’s going to be a flugtag. Basically people jump off a platform into a river in an homemade machine. They try to go far.
Terrible movie with Stallone. Not that I’ve seen it or anything. I think it was directed by Renny Harlin, but I’m not too sure. He’s a pretty terrible director. Whoa, this thing counts down with Javascript enabled. I’m not very driven. I’m the opposite, actually. Stasis.
I am always driven to do something, to get out of here, to get rid of myself, and they all drive me to do it. i dont know why i dont do it, i think im scared, but i try my hardest to just stop adn think, and to do what i need to do to stop myself. i need to stay here, and be here for my family and friends. they need me. and i need them.
she was driven to the moon landing. okay, so it wasn’t the real moon landing, but it was where neil armstrong’s boots had touched back home, in a small town in ohio.
there’s something about a driven male that makes him so much more attractive. lack of motivation and complete and utter laziness? no thank you. but the urge to do something with your life? drives me crazy. no pun intended
pretty sunshine and dazzling stars,
where do they come from?
the world is so magnificent.
to some it is not.
perhaps one day everyone will see,
that the world is very different.
different than you.
different than me.
i wonder how they see.
Driven in droves to drive the dares daringly. I am so sick of this one commercial – it keeps playing over and over and over and I a being driven insane as we speak.
She doesn’t like to be called driven, but she has red Maserati lipstick. She likes to stare into the mirror to see if she can make herself flinch. And when it comes to romantic partners, well, I’d say we’re about as well-matched as a carriage horse and a space shuttle. But she says she loves me and I’m too afraid to ask if she believes it.
going fast down the lane, cars flying all around, i can’t get caught, eyes open for cops, wait amber is coming, you’re gonna get caught… but i can’t. to much pride
holy crap I wrecked my shit all up in this mountain how do i get the fuck out of here? i ned to go the distancewin the goal get ou t there and start feeling better about myself in soemthing I need to drive down the strip, head out the window, of course anytime after this Iwill have stalhed out, ran out of gas, cabbaged patched in the end zone, it doesn’t matter driven so far only means oyu have to come back right?there’s always a point of origin right? wrong
Sally sat back and sipped the champagne. It was only a 10 minute journey to the presenation and she was going to enjoy every minute of it. She passed a bliny with smoked salmon and caviar to her Mum and giggled. Once she collected the cheque her life could really begin.
She was driven by the man in the parking lot , he showed up without warning. She felt safe in the hands of a stranger and driven by his fast pace towards her.
Maria pushed the peddle of her husbands car to the floor; urging it to go faster. She was a woman driven mad; not crazy, mad. If he planned on ruining their marriage she planned on ruining his car.
The pain began to set in. It was undeniable how much it hurt, how much he wanted to stop. But the finish line was mere meters ahead of him. A few more steps, a few more strides, one final leap, and it would all be behind him. He was driven by desire, by his unquenchable longing for victory.
I was crazy, driven by pain. Running down the dark streets, eyes clouded by thick blood, legs exhausted with cramps. Desperate I pulled on the door, in vain, it was locked. I cried out, a shriek full of agony, I could hear them, the person responsible. They had realized the job hadn’t been finished, and they were coming to finish it.
On the road to Hell, the shrieks of the ravens drown out all rational thought.
I pause a moment to drink of the raw sewage coursing through the river. I think to myself, “is it the tainted yogurt I ate last night that has driven me mad?”
I am driven to do the things that I love. They include having sex, writing, reading, spending time with family, etc.
I am not driven to do things I hate. Those include things like doing chores, working, and studying.
I can’t get up early enough in the morning. Sun shoots through the blinds, hits me square in the eyes and I still slip back into sleep. There is no reason to get up for there is no job or wife waiting on any longer.
I drove through the snow–plowed through it, really–on my brand new snowmobile. My parents got it for me for my birthday after much pleading. They, at first, didn’t want to get it for me. They said it was too dangerous, and that I would tire of it after the first month.
driven to a corner i stare ad they dissect me_
ripping my flash piece after piece and feeding it to their children_
their eyes they watch me as i suffer as i slowly die out in this nightmare_
i have driven all over the state this month. i have driven myself over the edge with my own thoughts and paranoia. i have driven drunk several times. i have driven others crazy and away from me. i am driven to make a change.
I haven’t driven very far, just across the state of Pennsylvania into Maryland, but my knees ache when I’m behind the wheel. Not in a bad ohno-Ican’tdrive-anymore kind of way, but in a please-letme-driveforever kind of way.
Everyone thought they understood Michael. He was just so…quiet. So well-behaved. So mild-mannered. No one would believe the things he took part in when no one was watching. Or when he thought no one was watching. She had caught him, had hidden in the low bush at the edge of the quarry and had watched him. He was completely driven in his task, and she knew the screams would stay embedded in her mind for years to come along with the sight of the blood running over his hands.
Driven away. Und weg war sie. Endlich mal ein Mensch, dem ich vertrauen konnte. Endlich mal sowas wie eine zarte Bindung, obwohl ich es damals nicht so nennen konnte, ich wusste ja nicht, dass es so etwas überhaupt gab. Und dann fuhr sie weg. Adios.
I looked into his eyes, knowing that the same fire in them were reflected in mine. If there was anything that we were, it was driven. We would and could beat them, we would and could be the best. We might not have had quite the training, but we knew theatre and knew it well.
The police noticed how carefully I wrapped the guitar string around the throat of the young girl. She swung back and forth in my basement, hung up by the low e. What they didn’t notice were the bridge pins that I had driven into the back of her skull…
Driven, what does that word mean? Is it being pushed or pulled? Is it a natural course of action? I don’t know. I feel like it is a word used by hard working people to describe themselves and it makes less hard working people feel bad about themselves. I’ve always felt excluded from this word though truthfully, I shouldn’t feel that way about it at all. When I think of the word ‘driven’ I get an anxious feeling in the pit of my stomache like i’m standing at the foot of a pile of hard work that needs to be done. Driven should be abolished from the dictionary I think… and maybe replaced with a less intimidating word.
I was always driven, as a youth. But I’m not sure it ever got me anywhere. That’s the thing about driving, I mean — hopefully — there’s some direction, somewhere where you’re going. Maybe not. Seem to have lost mine here…
i would have driven so far for him. i am havin some serious cravin for some bb king
He felt like he was driven to run away. He saw her and thought it would be the perfect time to make a clean get away. And leave us all behind. Leave me behind. Since when did the idea seem rational in his mind?
I was driven far from home. The road was dark. The sun was absent. I couldn’t see where I was heading, but I could tell it would be a great roadtrip. Undoubtedly filled with anger and fear, but great, nevertheless.
People are driven to do crazy things. Tomorrow in my hometown there’s going to be a flugtag. Basically people jump off a platform into a river in an homemade machine. They try to go far.
Terrible movie with Stallone. Not that I’ve seen it or anything. I think it was directed by Renny Harlin, but I’m not too sure. He’s a pretty terrible director. Whoa, this thing counts down with Javascript enabled. I’m not very driven. I’m the opposite, actually. Stasis.
I am always driven to do something, to get out of here, to get rid of myself, and they all drive me to do it. i dont know why i dont do it, i think im scared, but i try my hardest to just stop adn think, and to do what i need to do to stop myself. i need to stay here, and be here for my family and friends. they need me. and i need them.
she was driven to the moon landing. okay, so it wasn’t the real moon landing, but it was where neil armstrong’s boots had touched back home, in a small town in ohio.
oh so you can cheat. finish up your last sentence. right. with no restrictions or anything. what’s the point of the 60 seconds then?
there’s something about a driven male that makes him so much more attractive. lack of motivation and complete and utter laziness? no thank you. but the urge to do something with your life? drives me crazy. no pun intended
pretty sunshine and dazzling stars,
where do they come from?
the world is so magnificent.
to some it is not.
perhaps one day everyone will see,
that the world is very different.
different than you.
different than me.
i wonder how they see.
Driven in droves to drive the dares daringly. I am so sick of this one commercial – it keeps playing over and over and over and I a being driven insane as we speak.
She doesn’t like to be called driven, but she has red Maserati lipstick. She likes to stare into the mirror to see if she can make herself flinch. And when it comes to romantic partners, well, I’d say we’re about as well-matched as a carriage horse and a space shuttle. But she says she loves me and I’m too afraid to ask if she believes it.
going fast down the lane, cars flying all around, i can’t get caught, eyes open for cops, wait amber is coming, you’re gonna get caught… but i can’t. to much pride
holy crap I wrecked my shit all up in this mountain how do i get the fuck out of here? i ned to go the distancewin the goal get ou t there and start feeling better about myself in soemthing I need to drive down the strip, head out the window, of course anytime after this Iwill have stalhed out, ran out of gas, cabbaged patched in the end zone, it doesn’t matter driven so far only means oyu have to come back right?there’s always a point of origin right? wrong
Sally sat back and sipped the champagne. It was only a 10 minute journey to the presenation and she was going to enjoy every minute of it. She passed a bliny with smoked salmon and caviar to her Mum and giggled. Once she collected the cheque her life could really begin.
She was driven by the man in the parking lot , he showed up without warning. She felt safe in the hands of a stranger and driven by his fast pace towards her.
Maria pushed the peddle of her husbands car to the floor; urging it to go faster. She was a woman driven mad; not crazy, mad. If he planned on ruining their marriage she planned on ruining his car.
thoughts for determenation. to do anything you put your mind to
…
…
I’m so high, I want to be “driven” to mcdonalds! hCHYEAAHH!
The pain began to set in. It was undeniable how much it hurt, how much he wanted to stop. But the finish line was mere meters ahead of him. A few more steps, a few more strides, one final leap, and it would all be behind him. He was driven by desire, by his unquenchable longing for victory.
I was crazy, driven by pain. Running down the dark streets, eyes clouded by thick blood, legs exhausted with cramps. Desperate I pulled on the door, in vain, it was locked. I cried out, a shriek full of agony, I could hear them, the person responsible. They had realized the job hadn’t been finished, and they were coming to finish it.
On the road to Hell, the shrieks of the ravens drown out all rational thought.
I pause a moment to drink of the raw sewage coursing through the river. I think to myself, “is it the tainted yogurt I ate last night that has driven me mad?”
around and around I go through the valley, bouncing on uneven terrain, plunging up the cavern to the cliff of your lips.
people who stand in line for hours at social services
I am driven to do the things that I love. They include having sex, writing, reading, spending time with family, etc.
I am not driven to do things I hate. Those include things like doing chores, working, and studying.
I can’t get up early enough in the morning. Sun shoots through the blinds, hits me square in the eyes and I still slip back into sleep. There is no reason to get up for there is no job or wife waiting on any longer.
I drove through the snow–plowed through it, really–on my brand new snowmobile. My parents got it for me for my birthday after much pleading. They, at first, didn’t want to get it for me. They said it was too dangerous, and that I would tire of it after the first month.
driven to a corner i stare ad they dissect me_
ripping my flash piece after piece and feeding it to their children_
their eyes they watch me as i suffer as i slowly die out in this nightmare_
gone to the road in other than an auto. Driven to what : I don’t Know but driven non-the-less.
i have driven all over the state this month. i have driven myself over the edge with my own thoughts and paranoia. i have driven drunk several times. i have driven others crazy and away from me. i am driven to make a change.
wasted time, lets not have it
lets not oversleep
lets not forget our possibility
and lose our time
and lose our life
I haven’t driven very far, just across the state of Pennsylvania into Maryland, but my knees ache when I’m behind the wheel. Not in a bad ohno-Ican’tdrive-anymore kind of way, but in a please-letme-driveforever kind of way.
Cars, trains, planes. Hippopotamuses. Camels in the sun. Angry Los Angelinos. San Franciscans on a diet.
She was a driven woman. One on an important, secret mission…to steal back her pint of ice cream from her twig-like roommate.
Everyone thought they understood Michael. He was just so…quiet. So well-behaved. So mild-mannered. No one would believe the things he took part in when no one was watching. Or when he thought no one was watching. She had caught him, had hidden in the low bush at the edge of the quarry and had watched him. He was completely driven in his task, and she knew the screams would stay embedded in her mind for years to come along with the sight of the blood running over his hands.
Driven away. Und weg war sie. Endlich mal ein Mensch, dem ich vertrauen konnte. Endlich mal sowas wie eine zarte Bindung, obwohl ich es damals nicht so nennen konnte, ich wusste ja nicht, dass es so etwas überhaupt gab. Und dann fuhr sie weg. Adios.
I looked into his eyes, knowing that the same fire in them were reflected in mine. If there was anything that we were, it was driven. We would and could beat them, we would and could be the best. We might not have had quite the training, but we knew theatre and knew it well.
The police noticed how carefully I wrapped the guitar string around the throat of the young girl. She swung back and forth in my basement, hung up by the low e. What they didn’t notice were the bridge pins that I had driven into the back of her skull…