When you find your perfect match, you’re supposed to know right away. and Thomas did know. He just wasn’t expecting it to be James. Not like they didn’t click, but he wasn’t gay… was he?
strike it. a quick pop and then it is engulfed in flames. engulfed. enveloped. a lover’s embrace, the perfect match. two peas in a pod being set on fire by burning match.
tennis is the sport of the rich and white. so many times those adjectives go together. vanessa’s white houses. my crew people. all white. all rich. rich, white people in white houses. how?
he struck the match and watched the flame eat away at the wood and blacken it, lighting his cigarette quick and shoving it between his black-hole lips.
It splutters, flickers into life, and I bring it up to the cancer stick pinched between my lips.
The first breath I draw is a relief in silvered smoke. And as it rises languidly in intricate curlicues and swirls, I shake the light out and toss the burnt out stick onto the floor.
I don’t believe that there is one right match for another person. Once, I saw a puzzle where a person was given a candle, a box of matches, and a tack, and the goal was to mount the candle on the wall somehow using those materials. But anyways, most people can come to love most other people. It’s kind of scary how many different people one could end up being with.
A match. One little match did all this. I thought as I looked around at the ruins that was once my house. I had arrived home from work to find my place in smoldering ruins. The fire department had not even arrived. Who would do this?
we together make a match. shoes always have to match. no one wears two different shoes, even though it could be cool. possibly. some people are brave enough to wear two different socks, it just seems to matter less because they are socks.
I am a match to everything I want. Law of attraction is about a match. Everything I think is a match to what is happening in my life and I love that! I love that I am the link to what I match up to.
i think on the mathch between boris becker and the other tennis player. i see this situation in front of my eyes as becker wins and the hole stadium is shouting!!oh my good what kind of athmosphare it was. i dont linke boris becker but this situation has made history. tennis history. i also dont like tennis too…i think snops and rich children are playing this…like ballet or riding horses,,typically for small girls or boys ..boris becker,, your moment was our moment!! and it was a great moment!! of course!!
a fabolous match!!
There’s no match to be a winner. Just think of all sucessful people in the world, people you admire, and get the best of what they do. I’ts as simple as that.
a single flick of a light,
or a face-to-face, over the
top never ending battle,
one thing or the other, this
subtle sprint of life and
death in one word, one word
that never seems to fail its
own meaning: match. yes, maybe
it is the start of life,
a little flame, maybe it is the
end of ones life.
I saw something on the ground, I leant over to pick up a dead match laying on the ground in front of a burnt down building. What had happened in this place that I stand?
from one soul to another
like a game of memory
or someone in desperate need of a kidney.
the missing link.
the perfect compliment to a garment.
the one that’s made for another.
I don’t match here. Nothing is the same as me. I mean, I enjoy being different, but not to the point of ridicule.
I want to go somewhere that feels like home, somewhere where I match.
Maybe there’s a person that I match with.
I imagine that their arms is my home and that I will always have a place there and they will love me for me, not for my matching and I will love them for loving me and it will be perfect.
“Match, game, set! I’ve never seen such an enthralling game! The underdogs were no match for the champs, but that didn’t stop them. Here they are now the Undisputed Champions of The World.” the announcer squawked.
A house burned down on my street yesterday. Someone died. My grandmother saw then carrying out the body. It bugged her. That night, I smokd in bed again. You’d think I’d learn. I feel like kind of an asshole.
My perfect match maybe? I dont know if there is such a thing. Maybe fire a candle, flame. Humm interesting that still kind of fits with a perfect match though. Not sure I know what that is anymore. Or if I ever did at all.
Won’t do a shameless and inappropriate commercial plug, but I did find my “match” on a web site of that name.
And the match has been life-changing. Finally the square peg no longer has to fit in the round hole.
Pretty sentimental, but that word has some powerful resonance for me.
matches are great. they light up your world, no matter how dim and damp it is. matches make light appear at your hands and in front of your eyes, and blocking out all darkness for a long enough period of time. light a match and be empowered by its force
Many times I have awakened and realized I was no match for the leaden blanket that held me to the mattress. I felt how insignificant I was , my head cemented to the pillow and the train whistle yelping for recognition in the distance. Then I would hear the rain, the sky extending a hand, and I would roll over and sleep.
It doesn’t matter if she is my match or not, I won’t have time to find out and never will there be.
this is the path I’ve chosen in search for love and uncertainty, and I have no regrets.
eyes meeting we wonder, however briefly if there is a future for us. Yet before we even start to talk we are whisked in our separate directions – you on your bike and me, on the bus, behind glass, heading home. the thought as to whether we were ever a match disappears.
Was she my match? I didn’t know. Nor did I have time to find out. All would be revealed to us in but a few days time. But then, in that one second of time, I knew what bliss truly was. I wanted it to continue. Is she my match? I don’t know.
We were so perfect, we called it a Match.
I wrote about this Match, for a long time, and called it ‘The Match’ One day, our Match no longer fit, it belonged with another half of a Match, and we made a new Match. With this new Match I was as happy as could be, the Match? Perfect, but for some reason, I still was sucked into another Match. The Drama, known as The Match.
We were so perfect, we called it a Match.
I wrote about this Match, for a long time, and called it ‘The Match’ One day, our Match no longer fit, it belonged with another half of a Match, and we made a new Match. With this new Match I was as happy as could be, the Match? Perfect, but for some reason, I still was sucked into another Match. The Drama, known as The Match.
lighting up in dark old bar waiting for the fight to begin. one was heavy out weighed as he stood staring at the big juggernaut. who would of known this would be his match.
Matches burn. I like watching the flame eat away the light wood into a dark crisp. Then to see it flash away, leaving a curly dancing figure in my wake.
matches striking against the floor. They have to match. Two matches have to light at the same time. Simultaneous ignition. Otherwise, you’ll have to start all over, make new matches again. Gotta find phosphorous. And whatever else is in matches…?
It lit up the darkness like orion’s star lights up the night sky on a clear summer night. All of a sudden I could see clearly again, the fog had lifted. As I looked at him, lying on the ground, wounded and bleeding I knew that I had done the worst thing
When you find your perfect match, you’re supposed to know right away. and Thomas did know. He just wasn’t expecting it to be James. Not like they didn’t click, but he wasn’t gay… was he?
strike it. a quick pop and then it is engulfed in flames. engulfed. enveloped. a lover’s embrace, the perfect match. two peas in a pod being set on fire by burning match.
tennis is the sport of the rich and white. so many times those adjectives go together. vanessa’s white houses. my crew people. all white. all rich. rich, white people in white houses. how?
he struck the match and watched the flame eat away at the wood and blacken it, lighting his cigarette quick and shoving it between his black-hole lips.
It splutters, flickers into life, and I bring it up to the cancer stick pinched between my lips.
The first breath I draw is a relief in silvered smoke. And as it rises languidly in intricate curlicues and swirls, I shake the light out and toss the burnt out stick onto the floor.
I don’t believe that there is one right match for another person. Once, I saw a puzzle where a person was given a candle, a box of matches, and a tack, and the goal was to mount the candle on the wall somehow using those materials. But anyways, most people can come to love most other people. It’s kind of scary how many different people one could end up being with.
A match. One little match did all this. I thought as I looked around at the ruins that was once my house. I had arrived home from work to find my place in smoldering ruins. The fire department had not even arrived. Who would do this?
we together make a match. shoes always have to match. no one wears two different shoes, even though it could be cool. possibly. some people are brave enough to wear two different socks, it just seems to matter less because they are socks.
thers no match to my emotions towards felx my cat. i love him a lot. he is so dear to me since i raised him since he is a puppy.
learning objectives
learning objectives
learning objective report
A match is what you use to light a fire. A fire that also may spring when you make the perfect match.
tenancy agreements & leases report
I am a match to everything I want. Law of attraction is about a match. Everything I think is a match to what is happening in my life and I love that! I love that I am the link to what I match up to.
oh my good,
i think on the mathch between boris becker and the other tennis player. i see this situation in front of my eyes as becker wins and the hole stadium is shouting!!oh my good what kind of athmosphare it was. i dont linke boris becker but this situation has made history. tennis history. i also dont like tennis too…i think snops and rich children are playing this…like ballet or riding horses,,typically for small girls or boys ..boris becker,, your moment was our moment!! and it was a great moment!! of course!!
a fabolous match!!
There’s no match to be a winner. Just think of all sucessful people in the world, people you admire, and get the best of what they do. I’ts as simple as that.
a single flick of a light,
or a face-to-face, over the
top never ending battle,
one thing or the other, this
subtle sprint of life and
death in one word, one word
that never seems to fail its
own meaning: match. yes, maybe
it is the start of life,
a little flame, maybe it is the
end of ones life.
I come from you escaping from the shelter that you are,
So scared of my freedom that I hardly go too far.
get close to me and hold me, protect me from the storm
A single spark between us; suddenly I’m so warm
You see my radiance as nothing, blackness in your face,
This gift that you have given me, forever I’ll embrace
The rain is falling faster now, it’s tears fall near my face,
the brightness that I had before is suddenly erased,
And so the glowing that I had is beauty that I lack,
and where a fire once was burning, there is only black,
blackness that we share since you’ve shown seldom little shock
as I, a match, is broken by her lover, you, the box.
I saw something on the ground, I leant over to pick up a dead match laying on the ground in front of a burnt down building. What had happened in this place that I stand?
from one soul to another
like a game of memory
or someone in desperate need of a kidney.
the missing link.
the perfect compliment to a garment.
the one that’s made for another.
I don’t match here. Nothing is the same as me. I mean, I enjoy being different, but not to the point of ridicule.
I want to go somewhere that feels like home, somewhere where I match.
Maybe there’s a person that I match with.
I imagine that their arms is my home and that I will always have a place there and they will love me for me, not for my matching and I will love them for loving me and it will be perfect.
“Match, game, set! I’ve never seen such an enthralling game! The underdogs were no match for the champs, but that didn’t stop them. Here they are now the Undisputed Champions of The World.” the announcer squawked.
A house burned down on my street yesterday. Someone died. My grandmother saw then carrying out the body. It bugged her. That night, I smokd in bed again. You’d think I’d learn. I feel like kind of an asshole.
My perfect match maybe? I dont know if there is such a thing. Maybe fire a candle, flame. Humm interesting that still kind of fits with a perfect match though. Not sure I know what that is anymore. Or if I ever did at all.
Won’t do a shameless and inappropriate commercial plug, but I did find my “match” on a web site of that name.
And the match has been life-changing. Finally the square peg no longer has to fit in the round hole.
Pretty sentimental, but that word has some powerful resonance for me.
matches are great. they light up your world, no matter how dim and damp it is. matches make light appear at your hands and in front of your eyes, and blocking out all darkness for a long enough period of time. light a match and be empowered by its force
i soon will have found the perfect match for me
Many times I have awakened and realized I was no match for the leaden blanket that held me to the mattress. I felt how insignificant I was , my head cemented to the pillow and the train whistle yelping for recognition in the distance. Then I would hear the rain, the sky extending a hand, and I would roll over and sleep.
MATCH. You never know if it
the fires of vibrant colour all lit up in one brilliant sweeping motion
It doesn’t matter if she is my match or not, I won’t have time to find out and never will there be.
this is the path I’ve chosen in search for love and uncertainty, and I have no regrets.
eyes meeting we wonder, however briefly if there is a future for us. Yet before we even start to talk we are whisked in our separate directions – you on your bike and me, on the bus, behind glass, heading home. the thought as to whether we were ever a match disappears.
Was she my match? I didn’t know. Nor did I have time to find out. All would be revealed to us in but a few days time. But then, in that one second of time, I knew what bliss truly was. I wanted it to continue. Is she my match? I don’t know.
We were so perfect, we called it a Match.
I wrote about this Match, for a long time, and called it ‘The Match’ One day, our Match no longer fit, it belonged with another half of a Match, and we made a new Match. With this new Match I was as happy as could be, the Match? Perfect, but for some reason, I still was sucked into another Match. The Drama, known as The Match.
We were so perfect, we called it a Match.
I wrote about this Match, for a long time, and called it ‘The Match’ One day, our Match no longer fit, it belonged with another half of a Match, and we made a new Match. With this new Match I was as happy as could be, the Match? Perfect, but for some reason, I still was sucked into another Match. The Drama, known as The Match.
lighting up in dark old bar waiting for the fight to begin. one was heavy out weighed as he stood staring at the big juggernaut. who would of known this would be his match.
Matches burn. I like watching the flame eat away the light wood into a dark crisp. Then to see it flash away, leaving a curly dancing figure in my wake.
matches striking against the floor. They have to match. Two matches have to light at the same time. Simultaneous ignition. Otherwise, you’ll have to start all over, make new matches again. Gotta find phosphorous. And whatever else is in matches…?
It lit up the darkness like orion’s star lights up the night sky on a clear summer night. All of a sudden I could see clearly again, the fog had lifted. As I looked at him, lying on the ground, wounded and bleeding I knew that I had done the worst thing