The distance from home to the place I am now is many, many miles. Not that we’re distant. The phone, the internet, and passion connect me to where I am from. It’s that my heart has found another. Miles from home.
miles is a name. you can name a dog miles. or a person miles. i should be doing ACT prep right now. but i’m not. owell, i guess i’ll have to go to community college because i suck at life. miles, i once did 6. but i’m fat.
You know the metaphor that starts with a fork in the road, and you have to pick a path. Well, I went the wrong way. I feel like if I could maybe go miles forward, miles backward, maybe just miles anywhere, I could feel right.
IT had been miles since they stopped. She slammed the door, their ride abnormally quiet after her lover had asked again about the affair she had had. She was sick of the questions, of the distrustful looks. Forgive and forget, how hard was that?
Travelling and cousins. Funny, this is the second time I’ve written about Miles in the last few years. So much has changed since then. So much started from those moments. It sounds so cliché.
time. distance. Mental, emotional and physical. If we aren’t covering miles then we are stagnating and dying. We need to reach and stretch and grow and that might take some distance to accomplish.
Im miles away from home now. Speeding down the road. The way back is so much harder to find then just with a map now. I’ve left everything behind, it all changing too much to ever truly mend.
One of the most iconic yet annoying songs of the 1990’s was “500 Miles (I’m Gonna Be)” By the Proclaimers. This song I heard while driving to my job at Cub Foods one evening. It then reminded me of an episode of How I Met Your Mother when Jason Segel and the other guy were in a car and that song looped endlessly, making them lose their minds. It was an okay episode, and I certainly enjoyed the show while I was at the townhouse after my family suffered a fire at our old house.
miles per hour is a unit of measure used in the Us as opposed to the kilometers per hour used in england. this goes to show how much american and european differences matter…
He walked.
And walked.
And he could never stop thinking, except for when he had to.
They were supposed to give him a brain that could speak seven languages and do derivatives.
He forgets things, and gets dizzy, and falls over, and throws up.
Pulling up short at the bench, he collapsed onto it, yanking off his shoes. He made a face at the bruise on his heel under his sock. “Five,” he mumbled, taking out his map, “no, six hundred miles.”
i had ran miles for you. i loved you so much that id do anything for you. you are my best friend and i have such a good time when you are around. it was really tiring running all that distance for you, but it was definitely worth it. when i
Thousands of miles away, I still thought about him. I had split up with him for the pure act of rebellion. Obviously he hadn’t felt the same way. While I yearned for him, he spent time with someone else whom he loved more than me.
I went a hundred miles today just to see your face. I miss you more than you’ll ever know but unfortunatley you will never know of my love. I would do absolutley anything for you. Including walking a hundred miles
Miles to go before I sleep? No. Not ever. You can’t quantify time before rest–dormir–based on distance. Only time itself. And since time is relative–or do I mean relevant?–there’s really no reason to listen to Robert Frost at all. No, that’s a lie. He was on to something with the bit about fire and ice. Snow. He always talks about the cold. New England and stuff. I guess I could visit. But it is after all, so many miles.
All the miles between home and college…
No parents to give me money and food upon request…
No high school friends to see…
No fridge to raid…
All of this…
Doesn’t matter! There aren’t enough miles in the world
“The time is right to change it all,” he bitterly thought to himself. It didn’t matter how far he ran or how little he cared, because the miles only added up to lonely nights and empty dreams. It was time to turn around and go back home.
many miles are taken when you have to walk from toronto to london about 200 actually and thats a hell of a long walk! ive tried it once, it takes forver and is not plaaestn it makes your legs hurt
We travel a thousand miles on the path that has no end, never seeing anything left at the end of the road, nothing that is there to stop and wait for. There is nothing out the window but sagebrush and rocks. There is no home at the end, no place where we travel to. It is merely the journey, the endless, lasting journey.
so many. such a long trip to get to where i need to be. the miles just keep adding up on my odometer, but i feel like i’m getting nowhere. the towns look the same. the people look the same. i feel the same.
“What’s the line, miles and miles before I sleep?” I shrugged, I don’t know any poetry and I didn’t get his point. Every time I tried to have a conversation with Kevin, I got quotes of poetry, or speeches or anything but a real talk about his feelings and our relationships
I walked miles. I saw a turtle turned over on his back. I tried to ignore him and keep walking. It didn’t work. He was such a sad, pathetic turtle. I flipped him back over.
When i initially got into jazz school, i didnt know much about Miles Davis. I had heard his name from that Adam Sandler movie and a few times on the radio at Starbucks, but didnt give him much time. As i got further into the teachings of Jazz, i started to understand his importance.
I walked down an endless corridor, stretching out before my tired eyees for miles like a dusty trial across an empty desert. Wind blowing, like the coopl breeze under a door.
Though miles separate us, you’ve always been close to my heart. We were miles away from home – light years, it seemed – which was what made it all real.
Alexander Miles. He’s my photography buddy, except no photography with him this year. He’s just a buddy now. I love this kid. Had the biggest crush on him, when I was little(r).
and he walked and walked and only to come upon her a shambles. married and unhappy. pregnant and hot. he walked back. and gave up. on her, himself…on everything. on happiness.
We ran miles and miles upon miles. The road never ending. My heart and head were heavy. The end was not in sight. I cried, and cried. Why couldn’t I stop crying? I’m not a crier. I only cry when I run, when I sprint, when I attempt to fly.
The road stretched out in front of them for miles. They were happy for the downtime; their shows were so energetic all the time, and sometimes it got exhausting. Traversing the country and world on their tours, they saw many things. All the travel time provided chances to be themselves, to escape from the personas they projected onstage.
As exhilarating as it was, *he* occasionally worried about disappearing into his other self, of being consumed by it. The miles of land they crossed, the sights they saw, the people they met, it all reminded him how to feel truly alive, apart from the alter-ego that might just be another darker side of him. And he needed it, more than he’d ever admit to the others, or to her.
The road stretched on before us, oblivious of the hundreds of miles we had already traversed on our way to say our final farewells to Nana. Hundreds more stretched before us still. They offered a time of quiet reminiscence and solitude on what would otherwise be a boring trip.
i have to travel 125 miles to my job this weekend to work on Monday at a job i have been at for 27 years. i am anticipating the sights and smells of the oil spill that happened so close to my original home and am saddened by the greed in this world. companies taking short cuts to boost profits at the expense of human life and animals. makes me sick. i can only hope and pray that it gets better for my children.
It’s always a shame when miles are what separate two souls that are meant to be together. There is always that distance between the physical aspects. However miles are just miles. It’s just a word used that doesn’t matter.
Oh, the miles i would travel to see you. And the miles that I wish i could go. I’m not good with mileage, but i know that I’ve only covered a small portion of the miles i wish to go in my lifetime. And tell me, why is it that sometimes a person who is thousands of miles away can feel so far yet also so close at heart, and another person who lives less than a hundred miles away feels nearly unreachable?
The distance from home to the place I am now is many, many miles. Not that we’re distant. The phone, the internet, and passion connect me to where I am from. It’s that my heart has found another. Miles from home.
miles is a name. you can name a dog miles. or a person miles. i should be doing ACT prep right now. but i’m not. owell, i guess i’ll have to go to community college because i suck at life. miles, i once did 6. but i’m fat.
You know the metaphor that starts with a fork in the road, and you have to pick a path. Well, I went the wrong way. I feel like if I could maybe go miles forward, miles backward, maybe just miles anywhere, I could feel right.
IT had been miles since they stopped. She slammed the door, their ride abnormally quiet after her lover had asked again about the affair she had had. She was sick of the questions, of the distrustful looks. Forgive and forget, how hard was that?
Old Man: “It’s up the road, the house your looking for.”
Young Man: “Have you been there before?”
Old Man: “Many times. I traveled many miles to get there.”
Young Man: “Do you have any advice?”
Old Man: “Remember the truth and never forget what you don’t already know.”
Travelling and cousins. Funny, this is the second time I’ve written about Miles in the last few years. So much has changed since then. So much started from those moments. It sounds so cliché.
time. distance. Mental, emotional and physical. If we aren’t covering miles then we are stagnating and dying. We need to reach and stretch and grow and that might take some distance to accomplish.
‘Cause I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door…
Im miles away from home now. Speeding down the road. The way back is so much harder to find then just with a map now. I’ve left everything behind, it all changing too much to ever truly mend.
One of the most iconic yet annoying songs of the 1990’s was “500 Miles (I’m Gonna Be)” By the Proclaimers. This song I heard while driving to my job at Cub Foods one evening. It then reminded me of an episode of How I Met Your Mother when Jason Segel and the other guy were in a car and that song looped endlessly, making them lose their minds. It was an okay episode, and I certainly enjoyed the show while I was at the townhouse after my family suffered a fire at our old house.
miles per hour is a unit of measure used in the Us as opposed to the kilometers per hour used in england. this goes to show how much american and european differences matter…
He walked.
And walked.
And he could never stop thinking, except for when he had to.
They were supposed to give him a brain that could speak seven languages and do derivatives.
He forgets things, and gets dizzy, and falls over, and throws up.
Pulling up short at the bench, he collapsed onto it, yanking off his shoes. He made a face at the bruise on his heel under his sock. “Five,” he mumbled, taking out his map, “no, six hundred miles.”
i had ran miles for you. i loved you so much that id do anything for you. you are my best friend and i have such a good time when you are around. it was really tiring running all that distance for you, but it was definitely worth it. when i
Thousands of miles away, I still thought about him. I had split up with him for the pure act of rebellion. Obviously he hadn’t felt the same way. While I yearned for him, he spent time with someone else whom he loved more than me.
I went a hundred miles today just to see your face. I miss you more than you’ll ever know but unfortunatley you will never know of my love. I would do absolutley anything for you. Including walking a hundred miles
Miles to go before I sleep? No. Not ever. You can’t quantify time before rest–dormir–based on distance. Only time itself. And since time is relative–or do I mean relevant?–there’s really no reason to listen to Robert Frost at all. No, that’s a lie. He was on to something with the bit about fire and ice. Snow. He always talks about the cold. New England and stuff. I guess I could visit. But it is after all, so many miles.
All the miles between home and college…
No parents to give me money and food upon request…
No high school friends to see…
No fridge to raid…
All of this…
Doesn’t matter! There aren’t enough miles in the world
“The time is right to change it all,” he bitterly thought to himself. It didn’t matter how far he ran or how little he cared, because the miles only added up to lonely nights and empty dreams. It was time to turn around and go back home.
many miles are taken when you have to walk from toronto to london about 200 actually and thats a hell of a long walk! ive tried it once, it takes forver and is not plaaestn it makes your legs hurt
We travel a thousand miles on the path that has no end, never seeing anything left at the end of the road, nothing that is there to stop and wait for. There is nothing out the window but sagebrush and rocks. There is no home at the end, no place where we travel to. It is merely the journey, the endless, lasting journey.
and miles stretch behind me. the night is drawing dark curtains on the hills. I stumble, catching myself on a small hump of scrub.
so many. such a long trip to get to where i need to be. the miles just keep adding up on my odometer, but i feel like i’m getting nowhere. the towns look the same. the people look the same. i feel the same.
i used to live a thousand miles away from home. i always worry to die and never have to get my body home. those miles were not worth it.
“What’s the line, miles and miles before I sleep?” I shrugged, I don’t know any poetry and I didn’t get his point. Every time I tried to have a conversation with Kevin, I got quotes of poetry, or speeches or anything but a real talk about his feelings and our relationships
I walked miles. I saw a turtle turned over on his back. I tried to ignore him and keep walking. It didn’t work. He was such a sad, pathetic turtle. I flipped him back over.
When i initially got into jazz school, i didnt know much about Miles Davis. I had heard his name from that Adam Sandler movie and a few times on the radio at Starbucks, but didnt give him much time. As i got further into the teachings of Jazz, i started to understand his importance.
How many miles have I walked in his shoes? One years worth. Feels like a lifetime. Feels good. Feels like him.
I walked down an endless corridor, stretching out before my tired eyees for miles like a dusty trial across an empty desert. Wind blowing, like the coopl breeze under a door.
Though miles separate us, you’ve always been close to my heart. We were miles away from home – light years, it seemed – which was what made it all real.
Alexander Miles. He’s my photography buddy, except no photography with him this year. He’s just a buddy now. I love this kid. Had the biggest crush on him, when I was little(r).
and he walked and walked and only to come upon her a shambles. married and unhappy. pregnant and hot. he walked back. and gave up. on her, himself…on everything. on happiness.
We ran miles and miles upon miles. The road never ending. My heart and head were heavy. The end was not in sight. I cried, and cried. Why couldn’t I stop crying? I’m not a crier. I only cry when I run, when I sprint, when I attempt to fly.
The road stretched out in front of them for miles. They were happy for the downtime; their shows were so energetic all the time, and sometimes it got exhausting. Traversing the country and world on their tours, they saw many things. All the travel time provided chances to be themselves, to escape from the personas they projected onstage.
As exhilarating as it was, *he* occasionally worried about disappearing into his other self, of being consumed by it. The miles of land they crossed, the sights they saw, the people they met, it all reminded him how to feel truly alive, apart from the alter-ego that might just be another darker side of him. And he needed it, more than he’d ever admit to the others, or to her.
Seattle; on the tellest building, writing on post cards, “the person you love is never the same person who loves you”, and releasing them.
distance in between us
is nothing less than miles
The road stretched on before us, oblivious of the hundreds of miles we had already traversed on our way to say our final farewells to Nana. Hundreds more stretched before us still. They offered a time of quiet reminiscence and solitude on what would otherwise be a boring trip.
i have to travel 125 miles to my job this weekend to work on Monday at a job i have been at for 27 years. i am anticipating the sights and smells of the oil spill that happened so close to my original home and am saddened by the greed in this world. companies taking short cuts to boost profits at the expense of human life and animals. makes me sick. i can only hope and pray that it gets better for my children.
It’s always a shame when miles are what separate two souls that are meant to be together. There is always that distance between the physical aspects. However miles are just miles. It’s just a word used that doesn’t matter.
Oh, the miles i would travel to see you. And the miles that I wish i could go. I’m not good with mileage, but i know that I’ve only covered a small portion of the miles i wish to go in my lifetime. And tell me, why is it that sometimes a person who is thousands of miles away can feel so far yet also so close at heart, and another person who lives less than a hundred miles away feels nearly unreachable?