Of course I’m jealous when they talk. Wouldn’t anyone be? Jealousy is really a funny feeling, one that comes out of nowhere and eats you from the inside out, destroying the very things it seeks to protect.
leaf-fire, splaying –
love in my arms,
heavy burden greyscale,
overflowing,
sidewalk lover (heads down,
heads down),
caught up in idealist dreams,
romanticization skies
that stone every bird-bone
of her questing lips –
people are often jealous of others who have what they don’t. To mask their true feelings they take to mud slinging and slandering. Now they sublimate jealousy into social networking sites. In a sense now self worth is tied to the comments and likes they receive on these sites.
I left because no one was paying attention to me and yes, I admit it, I was jealous. She was younger and some might say, prettier than me. I was feeling like I was about to be replaced. I don’t know why he did it, mid-life crisis I guess. Anyway, what is he going to do with a convertible? He hates driving.
OH how jealous I’m of her to be with him. He holds her close he loves her dearly so dearly oh ,how i wish i could be her always dancing and always sing with joy when he is near oh why can’t it be me dancing with him thru the night? yes dancing thru the music his arms around me and mine around him with all the deuces and duchess looking at us
OH how jealous I’m of her to be with him. He holds her close he loves her dearly so dearly oh ,how i wish i could be her always dancing and always sing with joy when he is near oh why can’t it be me dancing with him thru the night?
A radiant glow set over the dewy morning campus. Signs of life began to stir; squirrels hustled about their daily routine, birds hopped around, pecking at the moist earth, and sleepy students meandered, clutching cups of coffee, notepads, and backpacks. Right on the dot of 8 o’clock, she emerged from the dorms and into the sunlight of the yard.
Cecilia had been my closest friend since preschool, and she was perfect. She was everything I’d tried my whole life to be; smart and beautiful, with the kind of sense of humor everyone adored, quick wit, and a laugh that echoed into your soul for days. She had that perfect quirky-dream-girl quality about her. I couldn’t help but feel like her life was some undocumented romantic comedy full of silly little misunderstandings where everything seemed haywire, but it all worked out in the end.
My life was nearly the opposite. I’d had a tough childhood, and so far, an even more difficult adulthood. I had always been lean and shapeless, with crooked teeth, and a sensitive soul.
The jealousy came like a fluttering bird in my stomach. It started out frantic, erratic, ever flapping, and then pecked at my guts, trying to get out. It was a desire to change, but hope that maybe that wasn’t necessary. It was endless unanswered questions; Why couldn’t I have that? How was it fair? Was I too far a misfit to ever be able to mold myself into such a vastly different roll? And would I be able to handle the change if given the chance?
Despair and a little self-loathing set in as I stuffed my face back into my studies. I would never be meant for such things…
Some people believe that I’, jealous of them because they seem to have it all. We’ll they have it all wrong. I have it all. I have my home, health, son, dog, family and breath which is all I need to make people jealous.
Jealous? Me? Never!
okay, maybe I am lying. I can’t help but notice the way you look at other women. Staring in awe but only for a second. You try to do it subtly but to me it is still obvious. It breaks my heart to know I can never look the way a “normal” female would. Oh, the things I would do to be that beautiful in your eyes. To be your queen and the only one you wish to gaze upon. I have had our child and now I feel as if I am past my prime though my prime was never really much anyways. Even before, I wasn’t “the most beautiful girl in the world”. Those being your exact words. I know you meant no harm and only wished to be honest… but those words have lingered in my mind since they fell from your lips.
I have never been the jealous type, before. I suppose now I have my reasons… Since I am not everything you ever dreamed of. Yet here I stay. Loving you with all of my being, aching to be perfect in your eyes.
I thought I was better at handling it but I’m really not. I just have to sit and wait it out but it doesn’t go anywhere it just burns and cools and burns again
There’s this song, “Jealousy,” by Roy Woods, and I been listening to it a lot. It’s true about us – we’d still be together if you weren’t so jealous over me. But it’s a really good thing we’re not, because I have better things going on these days. Kthanx.
I am jealous of my sister because she is prettier than me. I am jealous of ladies who don’t have to drive as far as me to class. Being jealous of someone can be unproductive.
“No,” Stanley quipped, being his usual smartass self. “I’m ENVIOUS. See, you have a hot girlfriend, and I don’t. Now, if I were to madly flirt with your girlfriend and try to get her to fall in love with her, YOU would be jealous.”
Larry’s face went bright pink, then darkened to an impressive purple. He grabbed his beer and stormed away from the table, leaving his bewildered girlfriend behind.
I can’t help but to notice you walking with your man. It just looks as though I’ve seen this type of couple before. Sometimes I feel betrayed. Sometimes I feel that perhaps he has a fetish. Sometimes I feel that I’m simply jealous. #confessionsofagoldenman
what’s the fucking point? When I was around 10 there was a boy in my class who stood a couple centimeters away and through thick pizza breath he told me I had a unibrow. I remember biting my lip until it bled so I wouldn’t cry. There was an angelic girl with auburn hair that sat across from me on my first day of high school in homeroom. She had perfect eyebrows. She fucked our history teacher the second week of school. I failed history.
Everything about her is perfect. She sneezes perfect, blinks perfect. Her laugh is contagious, her eyes are dark and beautiful; people look into them and can’t look away. Her hair shines in the sunlight and even when the clouds cover the sun, you see how it shines in the worst light there is. When she dances, it’s like her feet aren’t touching the ground; when you’re with her, people come up to her like they can’t help themselves, they just want to talk to her. You’re like the book or the bag or whatever it is she’s carrying; they look you over for a second then look right back at her and just keep talking to her like you’re not there. She never says anything bad about anyone, so you can’t say anything bad about her. But you do. You sit across from her at the table at school at lunch and wish that you could be her for just one day. What would that be like, to be liked all the time by everybody there is, even your own parents? And you think about all the times they’ve told you in church that this is the worst feeling. To want want someone else has so much that you can’t even look at your own self at all.
Everything she did was perfect, all the time. She even sneezed and blinked right; her hair was never messy, her eyes were always bright and shining; she danced as though her feet weren’t even touching the ground. Her body was perfect, her smile, like a magnet that no one could resist. When you were with her, you were, well, with her. Like her purse or a book she was carrying; just something else for people to notice for a second or two so they could look back at her.
Sometimes, he envied her productivity; the way she got things done, the way she was able to filter out distractions, even the way she carried herself when working. Sometimes, he hated her for it. Other times, though, she was his hero.
it is daylight but overhead I
can hear the twinkling of stars
and I repeat to myself
love you love you love you
on this coldest day of winter
no cloud, no rain
some part in each of us is
permafrost
eyes down, keep moving
I dip my brow politely at people
as I quickly keep moving ahead
and the chill bites deep into my feet, my fingers
I check my phone
no message.
where are you when I need you?
this birdless day
unable to unplug myself from whatever train i’m on
and I do that thing again
become transparent
I remember you told me once
in the silence after playing Chopin
that your body has a purity
that exists separate from yourself
I wanted to fight you
so I could lose
the rain will not come
we seek refuge in sealed places
but the ice within each of us
makes intimacy painful
as if
the perfect ratio
each knew
is lost
so much time twisting around
people we don’t trust
as if hearts are suns
that can burn endlessly
light some unimagined
future morning
or house the unsaid
the cold air cuts through me
I keep my hands in my pockets
If there is a purpose
It’s not here
Last weekend, when we were in Las Vegas, everyone was walking around, drinking, gambling. And the only person I was jealous of was myself; this moment was so fleeting. Next week I would be back in the office, reminiscing on my sunburn, my bud light, my over priced hamburger. What a lucky life, to be jealous of myself. Why put pressure on the future? Why can’t I just enjoy the moment?
The green emotion. The color shown in movies and stories to represent it’s root, envy. Why is that? What about green inspires that idea? We say things like “the grass is always greener” and “the green-eyed monster”. How did green become associated with jealousy. It is the color of life, the color of the trees and vegetation that make life possible for us. The color of beautiful gemstones. When I hear green I think lush and vitality. I picture rolling green fields and tree covered trails. Perhaps we are jealous of nature.
His nostrils flared; his heart raced; his teeth clenched; his hands imploded into powerful fists; his face flushed; anyone could see it. He was infatuated with her.
“I’m not jealous,” she guffawed, “Believe me, he and whats-her-face can do whatever they want where ever they want and get any STD they feel like.”
And with that she stormed away.
There was a beat of silence before someone finally spoke. “Yeah, she’s not jealous at all.”
Jealous means that somebody wants something that somebody else has or can do. Like some people or jealous of athletes because they are so good at sports.
Poison ivy drips from her fingertips, as she stares at me across the table. It pools vermillion on the white cloth. Her eyes flash scarlet and black, above the pointed hooks of her fingernails.
I exhale through my nose, and sit up a little straighter. I flatten the white cloth of my dress, and tuck back a stray curl of golden hair behind my ear. I let my gaze wander away from her to the sun gleaming through the open window, basking me in light but casting her into cold shadow.
Jealous for Your name and Your cause.
I ask myself how to be jealous for the right reasons? Is there such a thing? It sounds hard. But how human jealousy is.
There are many people who get jealous. Others not so much. My grandma always says to me, jealousy makes you nasty, nasty makes you fat, fat makes you ugly. Many times people who get jealous are normally the ones who don’t have the things that the other one doesn’t.
Its more like envy, sometimes I just envy other peoples lives but its ridiculous of me having this mind set i know my destination I’m just not there yet.
Jealous people are very dangerous if they get a lot of power and are really desperate to get what they want.
I am so jealous that Jenna took Henrey away from me he is mine and nobody else’s I will get back at her the revenge is coming.
I’m jealous for the pretty woman.
Jealousy is an emotion that I believe all human beings possess. It is inescapable and creeps up and consumes you quite unexpectedly.
Of course I’m jealous when they talk. Wouldn’t anyone be? Jealousy is really a funny feeling, one that comes out of nowhere and eats you from the inside out, destroying the very things it seeks to protect.
leaf-fire, splaying –
love in my arms,
heavy burden greyscale,
overflowing,
sidewalk lover (heads down,
heads down),
caught up in idealist dreams,
romanticization skies
that stone every bird-bone
of her questing lips –
falling in like
snowstorms.
people are often jealous of others who have what they don’t. To mask their true feelings they take to mud slinging and slandering. Now they sublimate jealousy into social networking sites. In a sense now self worth is tied to the comments and likes they receive on these sites.
I left because no one was paying attention to me and yes, I admit it, I was jealous. She was younger and some might say, prettier than me. I was feeling like I was about to be replaced. I don’t know why he did it, mid-life crisis I guess. Anyway, what is he going to do with a convertible? He hates driving.
OH how jealous I’m of her to be with him. He holds her close he loves her dearly so dearly oh ,how i wish i could be her always dancing and always sing with joy when he is near oh why can’t it be me dancing with him thru the night? yes dancing thru the music his arms around me and mine around him with all the deuces and duchess looking at us
OH how jealous I’m of her to be with him. He holds her close he loves her dearly so dearly oh ,how i wish i could be her always dancing and always sing with joy when he is near oh why can’t it be me dancing with him thru the night?
A radiant glow set over the dewy morning campus. Signs of life began to stir; squirrels hustled about their daily routine, birds hopped around, pecking at the moist earth, and sleepy students meandered, clutching cups of coffee, notepads, and backpacks. Right on the dot of 8 o’clock, she emerged from the dorms and into the sunlight of the yard.
Cecilia had been my closest friend since preschool, and she was perfect. She was everything I’d tried my whole life to be; smart and beautiful, with the kind of sense of humor everyone adored, quick wit, and a laugh that echoed into your soul for days. She had that perfect quirky-dream-girl quality about her. I couldn’t help but feel like her life was some undocumented romantic comedy full of silly little misunderstandings where everything seemed haywire, but it all worked out in the end.
My life was nearly the opposite. I’d had a tough childhood, and so far, an even more difficult adulthood. I had always been lean and shapeless, with crooked teeth, and a sensitive soul.
The jealousy came like a fluttering bird in my stomach. It started out frantic, erratic, ever flapping, and then pecked at my guts, trying to get out. It was a desire to change, but hope that maybe that wasn’t necessary. It was endless unanswered questions; Why couldn’t I have that? How was it fair? Was I too far a misfit to ever be able to mold myself into such a vastly different roll? And would I be able to handle the change if given the chance?
Despair and a little self-loathing set in as I stuffed my face back into my studies. I would never be meant for such things…
Some people believe that I’, jealous of them because they seem to have it all. We’ll they have it all wrong. I have it all. I have my home, health, son, dog, family and breath which is all I need to make people jealous.
Jealous? Me? Never!
okay, maybe I am lying. I can’t help but notice the way you look at other women. Staring in awe but only for a second. You try to do it subtly but to me it is still obvious. It breaks my heart to know I can never look the way a “normal” female would. Oh, the things I would do to be that beautiful in your eyes. To be your queen and the only one you wish to gaze upon. I have had our child and now I feel as if I am past my prime though my prime was never really much anyways. Even before, I wasn’t “the most beautiful girl in the world”. Those being your exact words. I know you meant no harm and only wished to be honest… but those words have lingered in my mind since they fell from your lips.
I have never been the jealous type, before. I suppose now I have my reasons… Since I am not everything you ever dreamed of. Yet here I stay. Loving you with all of my being, aching to be perfect in your eyes.
I thought I was better at handling it but I’m really not. I just have to sit and wait it out but it doesn’t go anywhere it just burns and cools and burns again
the ache she feels when Firiel looks at him instead, the way Rune left her but she still waits for him follows him forgives him despite it all
There’s this song, “Jealousy,” by Roy Woods, and I been listening to it a lot. It’s true about us – we’d still be together if you weren’t so jealous over me. But it’s a really good thing we’re not, because I have better things going on these days. Kthanx.
I don’t know why but I’m jealous of everyone who sees you often, because I’m just 19. And I’m in college.
I am a jealous person. Of that I will admit.
I am jealous of my sister because she is prettier than me. I am jealous of ladies who don’t have to drive as far as me to class. Being jealous of someone can be unproductive.
“What’s the matter” crowed Larry. “Jealous?”
“No,” Stanley quipped, being his usual smartass self. “I’m ENVIOUS. See, you have a hot girlfriend, and I don’t. Now, if I were to madly flirt with your girlfriend and try to get her to fall in love with her, YOU would be jealous.”
Larry’s face went bright pink, then darkened to an impressive purple. He grabbed his beer and stormed away from the table, leaving his bewildered girlfriend behind.
I can’t help but to notice you walking with your man. It just looks as though I’ve seen this type of couple before. Sometimes I feel betrayed. Sometimes I feel that perhaps he has a fetish. Sometimes I feel that I’m simply jealous. #confessionsofagoldenman
what’s the fucking point? When I was around 10 there was a boy in my class who stood a couple centimeters away and through thick pizza breath he told me I had a unibrow. I remember biting my lip until it bled so I wouldn’t cry. There was an angelic girl with auburn hair that sat across from me on my first day of high school in homeroom. She had perfect eyebrows. She fucked our history teacher the second week of school. I failed history.
Everything about her is perfect. She sneezes perfect, blinks perfect. Her laugh is contagious, her eyes are dark and beautiful; people look into them and can’t look away. Her hair shines in the sunlight and even when the clouds cover the sun, you see how it shines in the worst light there is. When she dances, it’s like her feet aren’t touching the ground; when you’re with her, people come up to her like they can’t help themselves, they just want to talk to her. You’re like the book or the bag or whatever it is she’s carrying; they look you over for a second then look right back at her and just keep talking to her like you’re not there. She never says anything bad about anyone, so you can’t say anything bad about her. But you do. You sit across from her at the table at school at lunch and wish that you could be her for just one day. What would that be like, to be liked all the time by everybody there is, even your own parents? And you think about all the times they’ve told you in church that this is the worst feeling. To want want someone else has so much that you can’t even look at your own self at all.
Everything she did was perfect, all the time. She even sneezed and blinked right; her hair was never messy, her eyes were always bright and shining; she danced as though her feet weren’t even touching the ground. Her body was perfect, her smile, like a magnet that no one could resist. When you were with her, you were, well, with her. Like her purse or a book she was carrying; just something else for people to notice for a second or two so they could look back at her.
Sometimes, he envied her productivity; the way she got things done, the way she was able to filter out distractions, even the way she carried herself when working. Sometimes, he hated her for it. Other times, though, she was his hero.
it is daylight but overhead I
can hear the twinkling of stars
and I repeat to myself
love you love you love you
on this coldest day of winter
no cloud, no rain
some part in each of us is
permafrost
eyes down, keep moving
I dip my brow politely at people
as I quickly keep moving ahead
and the chill bites deep into my feet, my fingers
I check my phone
no message.
where are you when I need you?
this birdless day
unable to unplug myself from whatever train i’m on
and I do that thing again
become transparent
I remember you told me once
in the silence after playing Chopin
that your body has a purity
that exists separate from yourself
I wanted to fight you
so I could lose
the rain will not come
we seek refuge in sealed places
but the ice within each of us
makes intimacy painful
as if
the perfect ratio
each knew
is lost
so much time twisting around
people we don’t trust
as if hearts are suns
that can burn endlessly
light some unimagined
future morning
or house the unsaid
the cold air cuts through me
I keep my hands in my pockets
If there is a purpose
It’s not here
Last weekend, when we were in Las Vegas, everyone was walking around, drinking, gambling. And the only person I was jealous of was myself; this moment was so fleeting. Next week I would be back in the office, reminiscing on my sunburn, my bud light, my over priced hamburger. What a lucky life, to be jealous of myself. Why put pressure on the future? Why can’t I just enjoy the moment?
The green emotion. The color shown in movies and stories to represent it’s root, envy. Why is that? What about green inspires that idea? We say things like “the grass is always greener” and “the green-eyed monster”. How did green become associated with jealousy. It is the color of life, the color of the trees and vegetation that make life possible for us. The color of beautiful gemstones. When I hear green I think lush and vitality. I picture rolling green fields and tree covered trails. Perhaps we are jealous of nature.
His nostrils flared; his heart raced; his teeth clenched; his hands imploded into powerful fists; his face flushed; anyone could see it. He was infatuated with her.
“I’m not jealous,” she guffawed, “Believe me, he and whats-her-face can do whatever they want where ever they want and get any STD they feel like.”
And with that she stormed away.
There was a beat of silence before someone finally spoke. “Yeah, she’s not jealous at all.”
Jealous people can be very bitter and annoyed at whoever they are jealous at.
Jealous means that somebody wants something that somebody else has or can do. Like some people or jealous of athletes because they are so good at sports.
The brother was jealous of his older brother’s since he got a cool toy. The brother really wanted it but his older brother said no.
a destructive emotion that builds walls between people, allowing little or no important connection
I’m jealous with people that I love. If my jealous end, my love for the person ends together.
Poison ivy drips from her fingertips, as she stares at me across the table. It pools vermillion on the white cloth. Her eyes flash scarlet and black, above the pointed hooks of her fingernails.
I exhale through my nose, and sit up a little straighter. I flatten the white cloth of my dress, and tuck back a stray curl of golden hair behind my ear. I let my gaze wander away from her to the sun gleaming through the open window, basking me in light but casting her into cold shadow.
Jealous for Your name and Your cause.
I ask myself how to be jealous for the right reasons? Is there such a thing? It sounds hard. But how human jealousy is.
A strong emotion which causes many problems in the world, a little like envy.
There are many people who get jealous. Others not so much. My grandma always says to me, jealousy makes you nasty, nasty makes you fat, fat makes you ugly. Many times people who get jealous are normally the ones who don’t have the things that the other one doesn’t.
Its more like envy, sometimes I just envy other peoples lives but its ridiculous of me having this mind set i know my destination I’m just not there yet.