This feeling in my heart, everything, every word, stuck in my soul. I can only unlock my heart and uncover its desires with words, but words fail me, I am speechless- I long for the feeling to be outside my heart and real so I could touch it and not need words to feel it. I long for it. It is a thought, a perfect image of family, and I long for it to be real.
They were all longing for something that was at this moment floating away from their silver star, getting farther away with every second. Each thought they could hear the minute creak of the cable, the nearly soundless flutter of the great canvas wings, as they stared out the curved glass window at that tiny speck shrinking into a pool of ink, an endless unknown wilderness of sky peppered with tangled roses of airborne machinery amidst the whippled clouds.
Oh, how I would love to go to a party, dress up, be amidst people, laughing, talking, feeling a part of a brighter world, just a little bit. I have been isolated too long. It is time. It is a longing.
My heart is longing for Jesus!! We are all longing for something. Success. Love. Fulfillment. Knowledge. They all point to one place–the deep, place of longing in your heart, can only be filled by the One who made you!! Jesus!!
Well, I guess that’s it then. I’m never coming back here again, even if I wanted to. My mind may wander here but my body will just tense and scrunch and twist up as far away as possible.
longing is what I have always felt. It is a longing for what was that is what defines us. Everyone who says that they don’t care about the past but “live in the present” are morons and liars. Everyone wishes they could go back in time.
Longing is such a strange word. I mean it’s root word is the word long, yet what it is used for is often not associated with the aspect of length, but rather the feeling of wanting something.
I need you in my life so much that I am not really thinking anymore because all my thoughts are on yo. I am waiting for the time when I can go back. Go back to the time when we were together and I was happy and my happiness meant something to you. To were if I wasn’t there anymore you would be waiting for me, and I the same for you. I still continue to wait even though you will never come back.
She strolled through the tight alley with headphones in her eye. The right ear had fallen out, but it didn’t matter anyway because she couldnt hear the music over the traffic anyways. Cars passed her. Her backpack wieghed her down. Instead of reclining in a cool leather seat within a car, she was on her heels, walking home. She longed for someone to walk beside her back home.
Everyday that we are not together, I get more sad. I feel my soul coiling into itself, deteriorating. The most painful part is that it’s right there but I can’t get to it. I’m trapped, in my own dairy-free prison. Cheese.
I’ve been longing for a better life. I’ve been searching for my identity. I try to plan my future out, but life has a different plan. I am longing, all my life I have been longing. Just waiting for a future that will never come.
A sense of longing is present often for most, whether it’s longing for love, wealth, or goals. It is this longing that drives us forward with our life.
Longing is a very romantic sort of word; longing for someone to look your way or longing for an item. I think that it’s very similar to wanting in that it is very superficial and one dimensional; it is selfish.
Longing is a word in the English dictionary often used to describe the emotional state that someone is in when they are patiently waiting for something expected. It is more emotional than simply waiting, though. Often used with waiting for peoples.
I decided to analyze why longing is so sucky. Perhaps words that end in -ing are sucky. Perhaps two syllable are sucky. Perhaps the having two gs and two ns in a word is sucky. My conclusion is that this will take further analysis.
Sometimes, I sit here, waiting for tomorrow. I long to see how my life will turn out in the future and wish to become as successful as i can be. However, before I could think about my future, I’m stuck in the present longing to do many things and and trying to stay in the present.
Longing. When I think of longing, I think of waiting for time to pass and waiting and waiting for something to come as if it is taking an eternity to come. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of longing is love.
Longing is people wanting something that the don’t necessarily need. Because people are the most materialistic beings of this world, they “long” for money and things that they really don’t need. Some people, however, long for people if they love them.
Every day, I sit at my window and look at the world outside. I long to be there, instead of in here. There’s so much out there, just waiting for me to discover it.
She felt it, between her ribs, as a dull ache. She turned her head away, but she could still hear the cooing and the laughter from the gathered guests. She started to pick up plates, as an excuse to get away into the kitchen where she could collect her thoughts. She exhaled. Hands on the edge of the sink. Head down.
Es dauert. Alles dauert immer so lange. Das ist jedenfalls mein Gefühl. Aber die Zeit, die in mir vergeht und die Zeit, die außen vergeht, ist nicht dieselbe. Ich sitze. Ich tippe. Es kommt mir vor, als würde ich ewig lange tippen und nur ganz wenig schreiben. Obwohl ich ewig lange tippe. Wenn ich dann nach oben scrolle, erschrecke ich mich – wo kommt nur der ganze Text her?
LONGING WASN’T AN OPTION, YOU GREW IT. YOU ARE OLD AND NOW ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS EXISCT. She was so original and fancy, you are old and wored out. Your wife is waiting for you, you bastard.
My longing is cumbersome. It would be better to be middling or averaging. I just want to enjoy writing. I guess I have to learn how to want writing differently. Motivation.
Penetrated by insidious itch
Scratching cannot subdue
afflicting ache of emotional grief, debilitating
no painkiller can vanquish
Soul aflame, longing’s inferno
Unable to suppress the burn
Life threatened by love’s sickness
Perilously, for you I yearn
I want to know what I need to love. I wish you would just tell me. But you don’t. I can’t hear a goddamn thing, sometimes I swear I’m deaf, or blind. I long for you, my longing. I long for you, my love.
she was longing for him to return, aching for his embrace. she waited at the train-stop, eager to see him again. As he stepped out the train, she ran towards him, hugging him as she cried.
Always in search for something and for once in my life I have realized everything i have ever needed I have within myself. I am so powerful, I can make or break myself and it’s so simple. Just long to love yourself and all will fall into place. I love you.
I have a longing, deep inside my mind.
I long for something I shouldn’t;
I want to know what it would be like.
Would it be dark and lonely?
Or bright and inviting?
Do angels exists,
or would it be a few too many pills,
and that’s it?
I know you shouldn’t wish for it,
but no one told my heart,
I think I’ve fallen in love
with the uncertainty…
I didn’t know exactly how many days she had stayed in that house. Whether or not she was longing for pieces of her past – her husband, her father, her friends and family, her elderly cat – I couldn’t tell. All I could discern was her gray silhouette floating like smoke behind the pink curtains that hid her bedroom from the outside world. The stained glass windows, with painted roses, had no eyes, so they couldn’t exchange sad, empathetic glances with me.
The longing in his eyes was as intense as it was sad. He knew that when the morning came she would be gone and it would be as if their night together had never happened. For all intents and purposes she was already gone and he knew that.
“I swear I would love you for the rest of my life,” he whispered.
length
dragging out
far
action
moving
phrase
To make something longer
Begging for something or wanting something that you don’t have or need
a year desire
having or showing yearing desire
a desire for something
a deep wish for something
i was longing for that Popsicle. but i didn’t have the money. i asked my mom. she said no. i asked her again. “please?” i begged. still no.
Like devils, the storm longing to make way as the thunder and lightning roared, and the rain crashed down.
This feeling in my heart, everything, every word, stuck in my soul. I can only unlock my heart and uncover its desires with words, but words fail me, I am speechless- I long for the feeling to be outside my heart and real so I could touch it and not need words to feel it. I long for it. It is a thought, a perfect image of family, and I long for it to be real.
They were all longing for something that was at this moment floating away from their silver star, getting farther away with every second. Each thought they could hear the minute creak of the cable, the nearly soundless flutter of the great canvas wings, as they stared out the curved glass window at that tiny speck shrinking into a pool of ink, an endless unknown wilderness of sky peppered with tangled roses of airborne machinery amidst the whippled clouds.
I long for a more beautiful world. One where I can always feel the fresh raindrops on my skin while the rays touch my body. One without division.
Oh, how I would love to go to a party, dress up, be amidst people, laughing, talking, feeling a part of a brighter world, just a little bit. I have been isolated too long. It is time. It is a longing.
My heart is longing for Jesus!! We are all longing for something. Success. Love. Fulfillment. Knowledge. They all point to one place–the deep, place of longing in your heart, can only be filled by the One who made you!! Jesus!!
Well, I guess that’s it then. I’m never coming back here again, even if I wanted to. My mind may wander here but my body will just tense and scrunch and twist up as far away as possible.
longing is what I have always felt. It is a longing for what was that is what defines us. Everyone who says that they don’t care about the past but “live in the present” are morons and liars. Everyone wishes they could go back in time.
Longing is such a strange word. I mean it’s root word is the word long, yet what it is used for is often not associated with the aspect of length, but rather the feeling of wanting something.
I need you in my life so much that I am not really thinking anymore because all my thoughts are on yo. I am waiting for the time when I can go back. Go back to the time when we were together and I was happy and my happiness meant something to you. To were if I wasn’t there anymore you would be waiting for me, and I the same for you. I still continue to wait even though you will never come back.
She strolled through the tight alley with headphones in her eye. The right ear had fallen out, but it didn’t matter anyway because she couldnt hear the music over the traffic anyways. Cars passed her. Her backpack wieghed her down. Instead of reclining in a cool leather seat within a car, she was on her heels, walking home. She longed for someone to walk beside her back home.
Everyday that we are not together, I get more sad. I feel my soul coiling into itself, deteriorating. The most painful part is that it’s right there but I can’t get to it. I’m trapped, in my own dairy-free prison. Cheese.
I’ve been longing for a better life. I’ve been searching for my identity. I try to plan my future out, but life has a different plan. I am longing, all my life I have been longing. Just waiting for a future that will never come.
A sense of longing is present often for most, whether it’s longing for love, wealth, or goals. It is this longing that drives us forward with our life.
The longing in my heart – I can’t bear it anymore. This pain within me to be parted from my beloved. “Pooh Bear, no honey for you.”
Longing is a very romantic sort of word; longing for someone to look your way or longing for an item. I think that it’s very similar to wanting in that it is very superficial and one dimensional; it is selfish.
Longing is a word in the English dictionary often used to describe the emotional state that someone is in when they are patiently waiting for something expected. It is more emotional than simply waiting, though. Often used with waiting for peoples.
“This is a sucky word”
My English teacher, 2016.
I decided to analyze why longing is so sucky. Perhaps words that end in -ing are sucky. Perhaps two syllable are sucky. Perhaps the having two gs and two ns in a word is sucky. My conclusion is that this will take further analysis.
Sometimes, I sit here, waiting for tomorrow. I long to see how my life will turn out in the future and wish to become as successful as i can be. However, before I could think about my future, I’m stuck in the present longing to do many things and and trying to stay in the present.
A dry ache in my bones a thousand winters ago. Thick and decadent like spilled blood and white fog.
Longing. When I think of longing, I think of waiting for time to pass and waiting and waiting for something to come as if it is taking an eternity to come. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of longing is love.
Longing is people wanting something that the don’t necessarily need. Because people are the most materialistic beings of this world, they “long” for money and things that they really don’t need. Some people, however, long for people if they love them.
Every day, I sit at my window and look at the world outside. I long to be there, instead of in here. There’s so much out there, just waiting for me to discover it.
She felt it, between her ribs, as a dull ache. She turned her head away, but she could still hear the cooing and the laughter from the gathered guests. She started to pick up plates, as an excuse to get away into the kitchen where she could collect her thoughts. She exhaled. Hands on the edge of the sink. Head down.
Es dauert. Alles dauert immer so lange. Das ist jedenfalls mein Gefühl. Aber die Zeit, die in mir vergeht und die Zeit, die außen vergeht, ist nicht dieselbe. Ich sitze. Ich tippe. Es kommt mir vor, als würde ich ewig lange tippen und nur ganz wenig schreiben. Obwohl ich ewig lange tippe. Wenn ich dann nach oben scrolle, erschrecke ich mich – wo kommt nur der ganze Text her?
LONGING WASN’T AN OPTION, YOU GREW IT. YOU ARE OLD AND NOW ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS EXISCT. She was so original and fancy, you are old and wored out. Your wife is waiting for you, you bastard.
Oy. Longing. What about shortening? Hey hey!
My longing is cumbersome. It would be better to be middling or averaging. I just want to enjoy writing. I guess I have to learn how to want writing differently. Motivation.
Penetrated by insidious itch
Scratching cannot subdue
afflicting ache of emotional grief, debilitating
no painkiller can vanquish
Soul aflame, longing’s inferno
Unable to suppress the burn
Life threatened by love’s sickness
Perilously, for you I yearn
I want to know what I need to love. I wish you would just tell me. But you don’t. I can’t hear a goddamn thing, sometimes I swear I’m deaf, or blind. I long for you, my longing. I long for you, my love.
Oh, I’ve longed. for big warm hands loud mouth invisible small mute over that guffaw like trumpet
she was longing for him to return, aching for his embrace. she waited at the train-stop, eager to see him again. As he stepped out the train, she ran towards him, hugging him as she cried.
Always in search for something and for once in my life I have realized everything i have ever needed I have within myself. I am so powerful, I can make or break myself and it’s so simple. Just long to love yourself and all will fall into place. I love you.
I have a longing, deep inside my mind.
I long for something I shouldn’t;
I want to know what it would be like.
Would it be dark and lonely?
Or bright and inviting?
Do angels exists,
or would it be a few too many pills,
and that’s it?
I know you shouldn’t wish for it,
but no one told my heart,
I think I’ve fallen in love
with the uncertainty…
I didn’t know exactly how many days she had stayed in that house. Whether or not she was longing for pieces of her past – her husband, her father, her friends and family, her elderly cat – I couldn’t tell. All I could discern was her gray silhouette floating like smoke behind the pink curtains that hid her bedroom from the outside world. The stained glass windows, with painted roses, had no eyes, so they couldn’t exchange sad, empathetic glances with me.
The longing in his eyes was as intense as it was sad. He knew that when the morning came she would be gone and it would be as if their night together had never happened. For all intents and purposes she was already gone and he knew that.
“I swear I would love you for the rest of my life,” he whispered.