kite runner it’s sad joonbo said that i shold read it. it seems like a good book, but i am not sure. the topic is not light and easily enjoyable. it requires thinking, which i only do when i analyze books during class for school. i like reading light books.
I love to fly far above the reaching winds. Up, Up and away into the atmosphere. I am made of brilliant fabric made of all of the colors of the most beautiful earthen terrains. I fly farther than one could ever fly.
A kite is a type of bird and also a flying toy, so I wonder which one came first or if they arrived there independently. I made a kite in school last year for the final of my 2d design class and my friend Lane flew it really high, but then it fell and broke and I had to start over. It was sad, but also awesome.
I havent flown a kite in a while. I used to have one I stole from my cousin, it was the shape of a girl that like flew through the sky. But I had to give it back. I guess I should have felt bad for taking if for her because she’s deaf.
i like to flt kites in the summer time. it creates a connection with the wind. my mind becomes a art of nature. and i concentrate. the world flies with me.
like a kite i daresay i wish i could fly that hi. life is so damned constrained as of now and id like nothing better then to let loose with the reign in someone elses hands while I soar carefree amidst the clouds. Everything seems so far away. Everything is so distant. Im so content up here. I dont ever want to go back down. But I will have to. I will have to because someone cannot hold my reigns forever. I could get lost and glf
the kite runner. reminds me that my memories, my thoughts sometimes, are just snapshots, little pictures in my head. i’ve always wondered if that’s normal. surely it is. but apparently i’m a strange (“funny”) girl, so maybe this is another one of my quirks.
There was a kite, travelling higher into the sky, flying from a young boy below. He cried, tears soaking his berry-coloured cheeks. The string had broken. Oh, the kite, it flew well, with nothing attached.
Ella had been planning her wedding ever since she was two. It was going to be outdoors, in the sunshine, and she was not going to wear shoes. Instead of flowers all her bridesmaids, who were at this point her dolls, were going to fly kites. This she thought would be the coolest wedding on the planet.
She let it go,
tossed that string to the wind,
watched it sail beyond her sight,
the red triangle,
tapered to the breeze,
gone, lost to river of sky,
sailing onward
She let it go.
The woods get deathly quiet as i walk through. All bird and animal chatter stops. I stop too, wondering what happened. And a smallish hawk — a kite, perhaps — swoops low through the grass, grazing the head of a squirrel squashed against the tree trunk, panting.
Kites fly high, above everything we know. There’s a sense of freedom to them. They fly up beyond reach, and yet we can always pull them back down. They’re restrained. Like humans, they’re walking contradictions. So close to freedom yet so close to bondage.
The kit flew majestically through the autumn winds, almost as if its freedom of the skies had been neglected by the souls below. It falls ever so thoughtfully and bars itself from settling on the heads of those on earth.
flying around with the wind in your hair, clothing spinning lose and free, sailing above the world, looking down from infinite height and space. freedom. soaring.
We once drifted high above the so called heavens. Lightly through the air like a kite. What was once, is not now. A swift dive drove us down as quickly as we went up. As we have dug ourselves into the cold ground.
Watching the kite climb above the clouds, diving and spinning with the breeze, made me wish that I was like that kite. It was so free, so fearless, not afraid of anything. It could see every where, anything, be anywhere that the breeze took it without responsibilities.
The kite flying high in the sky looks down to the ground to see where it has come. “My I have come far,”the kite says. The kite lets out a sigh and continues to fly.
I would love to go to the dollar store and buy a kite and find a field and run and run until the kite is up in the air. Once up there, to play with the string until the kite is flying at treetop level.
why are kites a sign of freedom? There’s nothing more imprisoning than being on a leash, far away enough to see some place different, but teased to madness, never allowed away from your owner.
I like kites, I remember when I was a kid I always wanted to be better at it, but I always got tangled or it dropped unimpressively. There’s something really beautiful about kites though don’t know why, they;re just geometric shapes on a piece of string
Well, I remember reading this crazy story on cracked.com about a boy flying a kite today. he found 2 dead bodies at the top of the hill he was flying his kite on. the men were wearing lead masks. the bodies were never identified and the reason why they were wearing the lead masks still remains a mystery.
I saw the kite soaring- high above the restrictions of my life, free of responsibilities-save for one string tieing the whole thing to reality. oh if only i could have but one connection, though i warrant that would be boring.
I flew a kite once when I was young. It was my first ever–a Spiderman kite that was a huge part of my childhood. I loved the superheroes when I was little. I watched Batman, Spiderman, Superman…even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I loved everything having to do with them. I’ll admit, I was a rather tomboyish girl. But I was my Daddy’s little girl, and he loved it. I loved hunting with him, walking with him, and playing with him. And then I grew up, and now I’m addicted to romance novels. I’m still Daddy’s little girl, though. We’re closer than ever.
kites remind me of my childhood. i would love going outside and to fly kites whether it be in my back yard or a park. simple to build yet i could never make mine to be perfect. i miss my childhood.
the kite creeps forwards.. the sky is a faded blue, like an old painting that has been slowly worn away. the string hangs down loosely, with no hands to grasp it. the wind pushes it onward, past the torn fragments of what used to be cities and homes and people, past monuments and empty space, because nobody is there to see it.
diamonds, flying high in the sky
wind pulling this way and that
which way will it pull this time
keep it afloat with strings in hand
childlike toy is what I have
this kite
I love kites. There is something to making something so simple do what we all long to. To take off and soar in ways we can only dream of. The simple beauty of childhood so long neglected.
let’s go. to an open field. and plant some flowers. eat a picnic. and fly our kites. because they can go where we can’t. our dreams won’t come to true, but we can still fly a kite like we’re eight and pretend they will.
I’ve never flown a kite. I realized that when I was watching ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’ the other night, and I saw a kid get smacked square in the face with one. I said to myself ‘How–Even before Video Games and computers–was that at ALL enjoyable? It looks like hard work to me.’
kite runner it’s sad joonbo said that i shold read it. it seems like a good book, but i am not sure. the topic is not light and easily enjoyable. it requires thinking, which i only do when i analyze books during class for school. i like reading light books.
I love to fly far above the reaching winds. Up, Up and away into the atmosphere. I am made of brilliant fabric made of all of the colors of the most beautiful earthen terrains. I fly farther than one could ever fly.
A kite is a type of bird and also a flying toy, so I wonder which one came first or if they arrived there independently. I made a kite in school last year for the final of my 2d design class and my friend Lane flew it really high, but then it fell and broke and I had to start over. It was sad, but also awesome.
I havent flown a kite in a while. I used to have one I stole from my cousin, it was the shape of a girl that like flew through the sky. But I had to give it back. I guess I should have felt bad for taking if for her because she’s deaf.
i like to flt kites in the summer time. it creates a connection with the wind. my mind becomes a art of nature. and i concentrate. the world flies with me.
like a kite i daresay i wish i could fly that hi. life is so damned constrained as of now and id like nothing better then to let loose with the reign in someone elses hands while I soar carefree amidst the clouds. Everything seems so far away. Everything is so distant. Im so content up here. I dont ever want to go back down. But I will have to. I will have to because someone cannot hold my reigns forever. I could get lost and glf
the kite runner. reminds me that my memories, my thoughts sometimes, are just snapshots, little pictures in my head. i’ve always wondered if that’s normal. surely it is. but apparently i’m a strange (“funny”) girl, so maybe this is another one of my quirks.
There was a kite, travelling higher into the sky, flying from a young boy below. He cried, tears soaking his berry-coloured cheeks. The string had broken. Oh, the kite, it flew well, with nothing attached.
Ella had been planning her wedding ever since she was two. It was going to be outdoors, in the sunshine, and she was not going to wear shoes. Instead of flowers all her bridesmaids, who were at this point her dolls, were going to fly kites. This she thought would be the coolest wedding on the planet.
Kite’s bite because they’re on a leash
I wish I had a dragon that could take me over seas
fly
air
four
stick
blue
sun
sky
sunny
beautiful
kids
youth
string
white
grass
beach
vast
“Go fly a kite, jeez.”
“No.”
The sun went down.
She let it go,
tossed that string to the wind,
watched it sail beyond her sight,
the red triangle,
tapered to the breeze,
gone, lost to river of sky,
sailing onward
She let it go.
flying high above my head. gusts of wind, beautiful colors…surround my every move
The woods get deathly quiet as i walk through. All bird and animal chatter stops. I stop too, wondering what happened. And a smallish hawk — a kite, perhaps — swoops low through the grass, grazing the head of a squirrel squashed against the tree trunk, panting.
Kites fly high, above everything we know. There’s a sense of freedom to them. They fly up beyond reach, and yet we can always pull them back down. They’re restrained. Like humans, they’re walking contradictions. So close to freedom yet so close to bondage.
The kit flew majestically through the autumn winds, almost as if its freedom of the skies had been neglected by the souls below. It falls ever so thoughtfully and bars itself from settling on the heads of those on earth.
An ochre haze, a sulfur smell, all I want to do is fly my kite in the fires of hell.
flying around with the wind in your hair, clothing spinning lose and free, sailing above the world, looking down from infinite height and space. freedom. soaring.
We once drifted high above the so called heavens. Lightly through the air like a kite. What was once, is not now. A swift dive drove us down as quickly as we went up. As we have dug ourselves into the cold ground.
Watching the kite climb above the clouds, diving and spinning with the breeze, made me wish that I was like that kite. It was so free, so fearless, not afraid of anything. It could see every where, anything, be anywhere that the breeze took it without responsibilities.
A kite? You wish you were a kite? But why?
Oh I get it, I understand. Because they fly.
But why not wish you were something more free?
If you were a kite you’d hit lightening and trees.
Wish that you were Superman instead.
Or a bird, or a fly, something with a head.
Tying a knot as tight as I can. Pulling a string with all my might. Sitting here on such a lonesome night, watch my dreams drift away like a kite.
The kite flying high in the sky looks down to the ground to see where it has come. “My I have come far,”the kite says. The kite lets out a sigh and continues to fly.
I would love to go to the dollar store and buy a kite and find a field and run and run until the kite is up in the air. Once up there, to play with the string until the kite is flying at treetop level.
why are kites a sign of freedom? There’s nothing more imprisoning than being on a leash, far away enough to see some place different, but teased to madness, never allowed away from your owner.
I like kites, I remember when I was a kid I always wanted to be better at it, but I always got tangled or it dropped unimpressively. There’s something really beautiful about kites though don’t know why, they;re just geometric shapes on a piece of string
hung in the air by a thin cotton string, while my heart hung in the air with your every word.
I fly a kite so very high in the sky, until it is no longer visible. My children cry as the kite cannot be seen. Farewell kite wherever you may be.
Well, I remember reading this crazy story on cracked.com about a boy flying a kite today. he found 2 dead bodies at the top of the hill he was flying his kite on. the men were wearing lead masks. the bodies were never identified and the reason why they were wearing the lead masks still remains a mystery.
I saw the kite soaring- high above the restrictions of my life, free of responsibilities-save for one string tieing the whole thing to reality. oh if only i could have but one connection, though i warrant that would be boring.
I flew a kite once when I was young. It was my first ever–a Spiderman kite that was a huge part of my childhood. I loved the superheroes when I was little. I watched Batman, Spiderman, Superman…even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I loved everything having to do with them. I’ll admit, I was a rather tomboyish girl. But I was my Daddy’s little girl, and he loved it. I loved hunting with him, walking with him, and playing with him. And then I grew up, and now I’m addicted to romance novels. I’m still Daddy’s little girl, though. We’re closer than ever.
kites remind me of my childhood. i would love going outside and to fly kites whether it be in my back yard or a park. simple to build yet i could never make mine to be perfect. i miss my childhood.
a kite
go
fly
the kite creeps forwards.. the sky is a faded blue, like an old painting that has been slowly worn away. the string hangs down loosely, with no hands to grasp it. the wind pushes it onward, past the torn fragments of what used to be cities and homes and people, past monuments and empty space, because nobody is there to see it.
diamonds, flying high in the sky
wind pulling this way and that
which way will it pull this time
keep it afloat with strings in hand
childlike toy is what I have
this kite
I love kites. There is something to making something so simple do what we all long to. To take off and soar in ways we can only dream of. The simple beauty of childhood so long neglected.
let’s go. to an open field. and plant some flowers. eat a picnic. and fly our kites. because they can go where we can’t. our dreams won’t come to true, but we can still fly a kite like we’re eight and pretend they will.
fly fly fly away like a kite, freedom is the key to happiness, fly fly fly away.
I’ve never flown a kite. I realized that when I was watching ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’ the other night, and I saw a kid get smacked square in the face with one. I said to myself ‘How–Even before Video Games and computers–was that at ALL enjoyable? It looks like hard work to me.’