On the new path, there is a sight that tells nothing. But we all know that we are crossing the borders and can only look forward. The forward that never ends. Or whatever is after the bend… Descend, mist. For now we can see the front of nothing. We’re decidedly charging towards it in a general direction, along the compass of invisible solution.
(a/n: I don’t like that one. Pretty sure I should’ve stopped at “ends”. And that I breached the minute agreement.)
Speeding along the bike path, she came upon a place where the trees parted like curtains. The grass was lush and green like carpet, and the flat rock by the edge of the river beckoned her to dismount and take a seat. The show was just about to start. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the sun sink from the sky and bleed into the earth.
I looked over the horizon, to see batman, he had just flew throught it, I pondered why he would do that, unless, he had the special.
Did he have the special?
Would we be saved?
Look up, look up and look out for your horizon. Small victories is not what is your aim. Look at your expanse, search for your horizon and then decide upon the future course of action as far as the future is concerned.
The sun slowly crept up into the sky, casting an orange glow upon the green grass as its rays filled the horizon. She stood underneath the shadows of a tree, and basked in the growing light, and closed her eyes.
The sun came over the horizon each morning. It was odd to think that the large sphere’s position was determined by that strip of land miles away known as the horizon. It determined my shadow, whether I got seasick or not, and the color of the sky. At noon, I wouldn’t even notice it as my eyes were focused on the high sun.
I grew up with a horizon that drew my attention every day like a beloved pet. Almost every evening the sunset in my hometown lit up the sky in a spectacular show that forced mortals to consider our slight place in the universe.
Now I live in a place where there is no horizon. Nothing draws the eye outward. Most days the sky is a flat empty grey — like the backdrop to a dream. Asking nothing and reflecting nothing.
I like how horizons separate the sky from the sea. It makes me think that there will always be a balance to things. But even though it separates both of them, they will always project the same image of each other and with the horizon, it will always act as the bridge from where the sun and moon can meet.
The mast of the ship soared high, battling the gigantic waves from wrecking the ship. He listlessly gazed into the horizon, hoping to find a piece of land, however small, to feel the land beneath his feet again.
Ich blickte in den Horizont und sah die untergehende Sonne. Die Letzten Sonnenstrahlen schienen mir ins Gesicht und ich merkte das ich seit langer zeit wieder Glücklich war.
One expanse of inky blackness. It used to be full of stars, but now there is no demarcation between the sky and the earth. There is no horizon. I turn completely, but there is nothing.
It took a while coming out here by bike. My butt hurt, even though Shirl did all the pedalling. Still, this was nice. I feel the sea breeze in hair and the rising sun smiling on my face, but I’m a little cold. I can’t stop myself from looking out at sea though. She was right, as always. It did take my mind off things at home.
What a wonderful ambition he had, to fly into the horizon with his bronze wings and the hunger of adventure young Icarus showed. With a desperation that was known to him, having been stuck in his father’s prison for years, he soared up, higher into the sky, his father’s screams carried away by the wind. He flew and flew, trying so hard to see his destination; his wings melted off his lithe body. And so he fell, thinking he’d reached the ultimate destination–death.
Far out not
Life of living outside these walls
The sunset, calm breeze, gentle smile,
Your air, soft to touch
Your eyes, expressive
Then, beyond this horizon,
I see
The love for me.
He saw the two helicopters coming over the horizon long before he heard them. It seemed like an age passed before they reached him. He started waving his arms when the rotors became loud enough to be painful to his ears. As they approached his location, they started to descend. Once he was sure they had noticed him, he stopped walking, but did not allow himself to fall down. He had sworn to himself that he would not falter until rescued or dead, and he had kept that promise, walking and staggering for four days in the punishing heat of the desert.
Staring at the light, eyes burning, Jane watched the sun slowly sink into the ground on the horizon. She felt a tickle at her feet, shifting softly to escape the odd feeling against her bare skin.
Nobody can see what is beyond the horizon, and the first three letters should suggest to me that there is horror yet I just keep chasing it hopelessly, towards the horror.
The great lure of the horizon
stretched before her, out
beyond the fingertips
of her grasping imagination,
Yearning for a greater distance
than her mind could compass
There was a faint glimmer of moonlight painting the horizon, and I took that as a sign that we should slow down our walk and find a place to settle. We pitched the tent to the growing sound of crickets, like thousands of violin bows squeaking against stone in the night. As I set about opening cans of rations, I watched as my wife strolled toward an outcropping of rock, singing an impromptu tune between sips of canteen water.
horizons are just man made things
we need to set no horizons for ourself. we shud look beyond all horizons . Beyond horizons lie the real sucess matter.
And thus it stares, waiting forever on the line between then and now. It seeks the East, it longs for the West, it ever waits for another glass of whiskey to clearly define it’s shape. It lingers in the line of there and then, it taps it’s one golden finger, paitent and long along the edge of the Earth, sipping time in an Ocean glass of simmering, insipient patience…
She wasn’t sure what laid beyond the horizon for her. The future was scary. She was confident in who she was and where things stood, but the ever present mystery of the horizon filled her with a knotted heart.
He grabbed me by my hips as we wrapped ourselves in each other’s skin, completely engulfed in between bed sheets and whatever passion and exuded feelings of lust, pain, and pleasure delicately rolled from my tongue upon his lips. My hands pinned behind me, kisses in my inner wrists and on my palms sent shivers to the small of my back. We built upon and into the evening until the sun was rising upon the horizon. And whatever this was. I felt alive. I was alive.
Sunsets on the horizon. It’s amazing and breathtaking in the view. It just disappears over the edge so to speak. End of one day, beginning of the next.
Distance. Land. What comes next. What mysteries are out there? What’s beyond what we know? Hope, reaching, grasping, go for it, then go farther and farther, always your destination, never reached, but always there telling you not to stop, you haven’t finished yet.
I stare to my front blankly. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hill after hill after mountain after hill. Still nothing. All I see is another damned hill. I don’t think I’ll ever make it out of here.
I wish it was easy to see my horizon, both figuratively and literally.
However, I am cursed with bad vision and bad decision making, so I see nothing but haze.
Bob Ross makes it look so easy.
It was just out of reach, beyond the light, beyond the sounds
beyond everything she ever imagined
and yet somehow it was just within grasp
of shaky fingers and aching hearts
just waiting to be plucked off of echoing sunsets
orange and red with anticipations
of the lusts that would befall her before the morning light.
On the new path, there is a sight that tells nothing. But we all know that we are crossing the borders and can only look forward. The forward that never ends. Or whatever is after the bend… Descend, mist. For now we can see the front of nothing. We’re decidedly charging towards it in a general direction, along the compass of invisible solution.
(a/n: I don’t like that one. Pretty sure I should’ve stopped at “ends”. And that I breached the minute agreement.)
As we sit on the hill in the most beautiful African savanna the sun sets on the horizon and makes it the most romantic setting imaginable.
Speeding along the bike path, she came upon a place where the trees parted like curtains. The grass was lush and green like carpet, and the flat rock by the edge of the river beckoned her to dismount and take a seat. The show was just about to start. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the sun sink from the sky and bleed into the earth.
I stared out the widow, sighing. the horizon was so beautiful.
ufuk
horoz
dinazor
gelecek
I looked over the horizon, to see batman, he had just flew throught it, I pondered why he would do that, unless, he had the special.
Did he have the special?
Would we be saved?
Look up, look up and look out for your horizon. Small victories is not what is your aim. Look at your expanse, search for your horizon and then decide upon the future course of action as far as the future is concerned.
On the horizon she could see her future. Even though it was cloudy, she knew that her life would be filled with the love she dreamed of one day.
The sun slowly crept up into the sky, casting an orange glow upon the green grass as its rays filled the horizon. She stood underneath the shadows of a tree, and basked in the growing light, and closed her eyes.
The sun came over the horizon each morning. It was odd to think that the large sphere’s position was determined by that strip of land miles away known as the horizon. It determined my shadow, whether I got seasick or not, and the color of the sky. At noon, I wouldn’t even notice it as my eyes were focused on the high sun.
I grew up with a horizon that drew my attention every day like a beloved pet. Almost every evening the sunset in my hometown lit up the sky in a spectacular show that forced mortals to consider our slight place in the universe.
Now I live in a place where there is no horizon. Nothing draws the eye outward. Most days the sky is a flat empty grey — like the backdrop to a dream. Asking nothing and reflecting nothing.
I like how horizons separate the sky from the sea. It makes me think that there will always be a balance to things. But even though it separates both of them, they will always project the same image of each other and with the horizon, it will always act as the bridge from where the sun and moon can meet.
The mast of the ship soared high, battling the gigantic waves from wrecking the ship. He listlessly gazed into the horizon, hoping to find a piece of land, however small, to feel the land beneath his feet again.
Ich blickte in den Horizont und sah die untergehende Sonne. Die Letzten Sonnenstrahlen schienen mir ins Gesicht und ich merkte das ich seit langer zeit wieder Glücklich war.
One expanse of inky blackness. It used to be full of stars, but now there is no demarcation between the sky and the earth. There is no horizon. I turn completely, but there is nothing.
It took a while coming out here by bike. My butt hurt, even though Shirl did all the pedalling. Still, this was nice. I feel the sea breeze in hair and the rising sun smiling on my face, but I’m a little cold. I can’t stop myself from looking out at sea though. She was right, as always. It did take my mind off things at home.
A line
but more than that
it’s the future
things to do
challenges to be overcome
loves found and lost
it always recedes
it’s never crossed
What a wonderful ambition he had, to fly into the horizon with his bronze wings and the hunger of adventure young Icarus showed. With a desperation that was known to him, having been stuck in his father’s prison for years, he soared up, higher into the sky, his father’s screams carried away by the wind. He flew and flew, trying so hard to see his destination; his wings melted off his lithe body. And so he fell, thinking he’d reached the ultimate destination–death.
Far out not
Life of living outside these walls
The sunset, calm breeze, gentle smile,
Your air, soft to touch
Your eyes, expressive
Then, beyond this horizon,
I see
The love for me.
He saw the two helicopters coming over the horizon long before he heard them. It seemed like an age passed before they reached him. He started waving his arms when the rotors became loud enough to be painful to his ears. As they approached his location, they started to descend. Once he was sure they had noticed him, he stopped walking, but did not allow himself to fall down. He had sworn to himself that he would not falter until rescued or dead, and he had kept that promise, walking and staggering for four days in the punishing heat of the desert.
Staring at the light, eyes burning, Jane watched the sun slowly sink into the ground on the horizon. She felt a tickle at her feet, shifting softly to escape the odd feeling against her bare skin.
As we drew nearer the horizon, I lost myself in the intricate colors that stained the sky.
trembling hands crumbling
from clay into dust
a heart beneath the sands
waiting for a new horizon
Nobody can see what is beyond the horizon, and the first three letters should suggest to me that there is horror yet I just keep chasing it hopelessly, towards the horror.
The great lure of the horizon
stretched before her, out
beyond the fingertips
of her grasping imagination,
Yearning for a greater distance
than her mind could compass
There was a faint glimmer of moonlight painting the horizon, and I took that as a sign that we should slow down our walk and find a place to settle. We pitched the tent to the growing sound of crickets, like thousands of violin bows squeaking against stone in the night. As I set about opening cans of rations, I watched as my wife strolled toward an outcropping of rock, singing an impromptu tune between sips of canteen water.
horizons are just man made things
we need to set no horizons for ourself. we shud look beyond all horizons . Beyond horizons lie the real sucess matter.
that’s miles from me but I can make it and of course when I get there it’s not there but seen at some remove like any physical gatification you
hhhhhhhahahahahhorizon = __________________________________________ not=======================_____====_++++
yyyuabdmds,sssikwmw horizontal not vertical
The horizon was fading into the glow of the sunrise. It was gorgeous but too bright to stare at directly. Like any true beauty.
And thus it stares, waiting forever on the line between then and now. It seeks the East, it longs for the West, it ever waits for another glass of whiskey to clearly define it’s shape. It lingers in the line of there and then, it taps it’s one golden finger, paitent and long along the edge of the Earth, sipping time in an Ocean glass of simmering, insipient patience…
She wasn’t sure what laid beyond the horizon for her. The future was scary. She was confident in who she was and where things stood, but the ever present mystery of the horizon filled her with a knotted heart.
He grabbed me by my hips as we wrapped ourselves in each other’s skin, completely engulfed in between bed sheets and whatever passion and exuded feelings of lust, pain, and pleasure delicately rolled from my tongue upon his lips. My hands pinned behind me, kisses in my inner wrists and on my palms sent shivers to the small of my back. We built upon and into the evening until the sun was rising upon the horizon. And whatever this was. I felt alive. I was alive.
Just over the edge. The end of one day, the beginning of the next. Sun sets or sun rises … breathtaking either way.
Sunsets on the horizon. It’s amazing and breathtaking in the view. It just disappears over the edge so to speak. End of one day, beginning of the next.
Distance. Land. What comes next. What mysteries are out there? What’s beyond what we know? Hope, reaching, grasping, go for it, then go farther and farther, always your destination, never reached, but always there telling you not to stop, you haven’t finished yet.
I stare to my front blankly. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hill after hill after mountain after hill. Still nothing. All I see is another damned hill. I don’t think I’ll ever make it out of here.
I wish it was easy to see my horizon, both figuratively and literally.
However, I am cursed with bad vision and bad decision making, so I see nothing but haze.
Bob Ross makes it look so easy.
We looked upon the horizon and saw the sun set. That was the moment that it dawned onto me, i’ve fallen in love.
It was just out of reach, beyond the light, beyond the sounds
beyond everything she ever imagined
and yet somehow it was just within grasp
of shaky fingers and aching hearts
just waiting to be plucked off of echoing sunsets
orange and red with anticipations
of the lusts that would befall her before the morning light.