people are accumulating around the tents and stations, smiles passing from one to another. what makes them so pleased is just that, other smiles bouncing back to them. are they their just to look at eachother, no it is just what happened to occur when someone asked their friend to go to the market.
I was in love with what we were, not what we should have been–together. I didn’t believe in going around, being with him, and not actually being together. Forget the fact that we weren’t dating; when we were lying there, I was in this sick fantasy world where we were together always. But I knew he was just going along with it because I let him through my wall of defense. He had no passion, no drive; eventually, neither did I. He is now nothing more than a faint dream in my mind. And that’s perfectly okay with me.
my passionate insides
that wrap me in gold
tell me of secrets
and all else that’s untold
and this which is passion
i know of a fact, this is true
contains all beauty in the world
hopefully it is inside you
this make me think about Ryan. And the summer we spent together. I couldn’t keep my eyes or hands off him. Even if it was just a simple ruffling of his hair or stroking his arm. I awaited each day to see him, knowing that even just the smile he would flash me, or the kisses we would sneak in the back area when we thought noone knew we were together, made my summer……
He is the most passionate man I’ve ever met. Selfless, letting me take and take and just enjoying it. Now I know I was never really living before. He makes me feel.
I love you my pulse is racing my hands are sweaty i see you in the hall every day all i wanna say is i love you. I stutter on my words make a bad joke worse but you laugh. what dose that mean? Searching my mind for the answer dose she like me? It was gust a giggle there is no way she can like me i mean look at me… She says hi to me in the hall. ME! Why? it must have been some one behind me she was talking to. No she walks up to me and says hey. She is going the wrong way her class is over there she stopped to talk to me? Why me? I’m unpopular i have no friends. What could she possibly want with me…? What are you doing for Halloween? Small talk? Nothing. Why is she talking to me? She could do way better. Wanna to a party at my house? A party at her house? What is she thinking why would she invite me to a party? Dose she got me confused with some one else? Me? Ya you. Of course i would love to go! I wanted to burst out and tell her my deepest secret I love you! I’m almost to the party. Wait what if its a mistake? She didn’t mean me she couldn’t have. I’m me. A well i’m going! It seams really quiet for a party. Perhaps I’m early. Knocking on the door i hear snickering. Suddenly I’m covered in caramel. Everything is sticky. My heart sank. It was a trick they didn’t want me at their party i should have known they just wanted to laugh at the emo kid. Holding back the tears I turn around and walk home. Every one laughing and cheering. Ha ha the emo kid is all sticky! Half the school is there. I run home. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! The cold blade running across my warm neck is the last pain i will ever feel.
I looked up from my paper and at my audience. Most of them had their eyes wide open and a few even had their jaws drop. They applauded and cheered, and my instructor smiled at me confidently. Out of breath from my passionate speech, I blushed, smiled, and stepped down from the podium.
to have something you can be passionate about is the meaning of life, i suppose. there may be no meaning of life but to have that at least gives you a reason to live and that should be enough.
she danced and the silhouette of her flying hair was caught, a moment in time. there was the snap and the comforting noise of the shutter and then they moved on to a different time and a different place. here it wasn’t summer and her hair was long and pinned up and the skies were green, and yet another comforting snap of the shutter, yet another move on.
passionate is a nice word, a good word. It seems the opposite of depression and I really strive that. Passionate is a symbol of love also, which is one of the most important things in a humans life, in some people’s at least. Passionate brings you forward, makes you have intense feelings in life, makes life intense in a certain way good ro bad
I find people who are passionate to be the most intriguing. And I don’t just mean people who are passionate about things that are “interesting” – say, art or literature – but EVERYONE and ANYONE who is passionate about anything, so passionate that they’d dedicate their life to it. I think that’s impressive, no matter who you are.
i’m passionate about what i do. that’s what i’d like to say, what i’d like to admit i’m good at, but i fall short, at everything, at what i love, at what i’m good at, the potential is there but not the passion, people like that are doomed to fail. i wish i had it.
im very passionate about my life in music, it makes me very happy. i’m also very passionate about writeing songs about my life and love. i love books of romance they make me feel happy i love happiness and am very passionate about my best friend.
Like in an embrace, only more generic. I described my friend this way in a peer eval she asked me to write, only ‘passion’ had more to do with lugging a giant bag of weeds all around town until we found a compost bin. There are things to make your heart beat besides other people. Like putting words together, telling stories, making a sheet of paper or a computer screen come alive with phrases you incubated and birthed all on your own.
She is red.
She is the carnations in her glossy dark hair, dark eyes of indiscriminate colour, fingers slim or thick or small or long, curling in air, beckoning.
She traces patterns on worn hardwood floors, smiles, lips unpainted or painted, colour seeped into dry cracks.
I am passionate, I’m sure. Just not about anything I can identify. Yet. But especially not you. Ever. And it’s not your fault at all. You just are not and never will be my passion. My God, that was cathartic.
Oh, by the way, I’m sorry.
Sandy is one of the most passonite people on the planet. her love is people . she is passionate about thouse she is arround as well as thous she works with and her family
I dont know what i wouldnt so with out her. i havent been more passionete about anyone else ever
It’s weird isn’t, feeling so passionate about something? A person, a thing, a place. Passion can be for anything. And for me, right now its for a person. I didn’t think it would happen, but here I am, and it did. I don’t know what will come of things.
love, exaggerated love for something! passion is a feeling in your gut that you can’t control, you have to do what you are passionate about or life will suck.
I am passionate about love I love love and love love’s me and so I love love.
I don’t understand anything but this and yet I say that this is passion
I am passionate about love I love love and love love’s me
I know nothing other than this
I understand nothing
I am passionate about love I love love and love love’s me
I understand nothing
Everyone want’s a passionate love. Someone who’s there for them. Who they feel that fire with. Something that makes them feel alive. Passion burns within us, and when the moment is right we want, we need, to let it out. More than anything.
MY one passion is righting whether its fact or fiction I love it I wish i could be a professional righter someday. so i can pour all my passion into my righting.
you think you know anything about passion? oh like what, your newfound ‘passion’ for drinking?does it make you feel like some mighty god, able to pick and choose who your ‘friends’ are with a simple glass?those people don’t give a damn about you, or who you are as a person.they aren’t interested in you, they only hold interest in your daddy’s alcohol.but there is still a sliver of hope, though small as it may be, that we can get through to you.we care.i care.you should care. stop being so arrogant and realize what’s right in front of you…
I like to think I’m passionate about a lot of things. I love music. Is love passion? or does passion have a further meaning. Passion complicates a way a person is towards hobby, or thing with the emotion of love.
my life. what i love to do. love. loving yourself, loving other people. loving life. putting everything you have into something. it can be a job, a hobbie a person. using all of you in all ways. never letting the fire in your die. a life long relationship you have with something you love. it’s an extension of love.
With that passionate mental outburst, Jensen closed his eyes resigned to the fate that awaited him. the heat seared into his body and the pain became a white hot stab that slowly spread evenly over his entire body until it was just one pain, one feeling, one hot existence. And for some strange reason that was okay.
Love is more passionate than anything in the world. The best kisses are the passionate ones. The ones when you look into each other’s eyes and say, quietly that they are the best thing thats ever happened to you. Life is full of passionate moments.
Spending twelve hours perfecting a single sentence. Shoving every emotion you have into that lighter tone no one will notice except to imply a light source. And, never, never backing down.
Love of my life, sleeping next to me with his arounds around my body, as if I am his childhood teddy bear. Holding on as if he’s afraid I’ll run away while he’s dreaming.
running.
wind like shards of ice, cold and unforgiving.
racing.
pavement hard, jagged, bitter and angry.
my feet blister.
my eyes sting.
but i keep going.
determined.
jaw set.
one shaky leap and bound at a time.
climbing.
the mountain looms over me, casting a shadow…
doubt.
regret.
should i turn back?
behind me: a barren landscape of frozen tears and bad memories.
ahead of me: a light. a hope. a DREAM.
faster.
the rocks crumble beneath me, trying to sweep me back down into a bottomless pit.
i stumble. i slip. i trip. i fall.
i don’t give up.
i am torn and cut and bruised and i have nothing but the future.
sweet, bright future…happiness, sanity…love.
i can feel it.
a monster inside me.
a huge, dark, hulking thing with six mouths full of sharp, pointy words.
“give up” it says. “you are too weak” it says. “you are ugly. you are stupid. you’ll never make it. you can’t do it. something is wrong with you. EVERYTHING is wrong with you.”
i keep going.
the monster screams.
i feel like screaming with it, and giving up, but something tells me “not yet…”
i am at the top.
my new life, a beautiful world, is stretched out before me.
i reach for it…fingers aching to touch what could be mine…
CRACK!
the ground caves in, and suddenly i am hanging from a cliff.
the shaking starts.
first a rumble…then a booming, fearful realization.
what if the future does not hold all the answers?
what if i don’t change?
what if i can’t change?
i look down,
the future spinning below me,
clinging to my past world,
the very thing that is about to collapse and destroy me.
the monster, which has been waiting eagerly, finally shows itself.
it stands above me, on the cliff, holding out a terrifying hand to help me up.
its so tempting…just to grab the hand of doubt and stay locked in the past…
never knowing…
always wondering…
safe, even though i might not be happy…
but, for once, i do the right thing.
i turn away from the monsters black eyes and let go.
falling,
falling into my bright, shining dreams, hopes, and future…
leaving all of the dark memories, and the horrible beast, to rot behind me.
Texts, emails, facebook messages, wallposts, faxes, tweets and robots (?). Why not a letter? Next time, try a simple white piece of paper, an envelope, a pen and a stamp. Write I love you and send it to someone you love.
Leidenschaftlich. Hm – dass mir dazu nicht viel einfällt, spricht wohl Bände über mein derzeitiges Leben. Zumindest über das, in dem A. gerade nicht vorkommt. Was soll ich sagen – im Moment gibt es Wichtigeres. Over and out.
He took my hand gently in his, and I could only stare into his eyes, helplessly lost in them, as he leaned forward, pulling me slightly into a passionate kiss that didn’t last long enough. As he pulled away and smiled, I couldn’t help the contagious smile from spreading to my face as well.
people are accumulating around the tents and stations, smiles passing from one to another. what makes them so pleased is just that, other smiles bouncing back to them. are they their just to look at eachother, no it is just what happened to occur when someone asked their friend to go to the market.
I was in love with what we were, not what we should have been–together. I didn’t believe in going around, being with him, and not actually being together. Forget the fact that we weren’t dating; when we were lying there, I was in this sick fantasy world where we were together always. But I knew he was just going along with it because I let him through my wall of defense. He had no passion, no drive; eventually, neither did I. He is now nothing more than a faint dream in my mind. And that’s perfectly okay with me.
caring. love. support. compassion.
my passionate insides
that wrap me in gold
tell me of secrets
and all else that’s untold
and this which is passion
i know of a fact, this is true
contains all beauty in the world
hopefully it is inside you
this make me think about Ryan. And the summer we spent together. I couldn’t keep my eyes or hands off him. Even if it was just a simple ruffling of his hair or stroking his arm. I awaited each day to see him, knowing that even just the smile he would flash me, or the kisses we would sneak in the back area when we thought noone knew we were together, made my summer……
He is the most passionate man I’ve ever met. Selfless, letting me take and take and just enjoying it. Now I know I was never really living before. He makes me feel.
I love you my pulse is racing my hands are sweaty i see you in the hall every day all i wanna say is i love you. I stutter on my words make a bad joke worse but you laugh. what dose that mean? Searching my mind for the answer dose she like me? It was gust a giggle there is no way she can like me i mean look at me… She says hi to me in the hall. ME! Why? it must have been some one behind me she was talking to. No she walks up to me and says hey. She is going the wrong way her class is over there she stopped to talk to me? Why me? I’m unpopular i have no friends. What could she possibly want with me…? What are you doing for Halloween? Small talk? Nothing. Why is she talking to me? She could do way better. Wanna to a party at my house? A party at her house? What is she thinking why would she invite me to a party? Dose she got me confused with some one else? Me? Ya you. Of course i would love to go! I wanted to burst out and tell her my deepest secret I love you! I’m almost to the party. Wait what if its a mistake? She didn’t mean me she couldn’t have. I’m me. A well i’m going! It seams really quiet for a party. Perhaps I’m early. Knocking on the door i hear snickering. Suddenly I’m covered in caramel. Everything is sticky. My heart sank. It was a trick they didn’t want me at their party i should have known they just wanted to laugh at the emo kid. Holding back the tears I turn around and walk home. Every one laughing and cheering. Ha ha the emo kid is all sticky! Half the school is there. I run home. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! The cold blade running across my warm neck is the last pain i will ever feel.
hey how are you my name is jay
Passionate
love joy patience none of the above
great outstanding
Who am i and who are you
I looked up from my paper and at my audience. Most of them had their eyes wide open and a few even had their jaws drop. They applauded and cheered, and my instructor smiled at me confidently. Out of breath from my passionate speech, I blushed, smiled, and stepped down from the podium.
to have something you can be passionate about is the meaning of life, i suppose. there may be no meaning of life but to have that at least gives you a reason to live and that should be enough.
she danced and the silhouette of her flying hair was caught, a moment in time. there was the snap and the comforting noise of the shutter and then they moved on to a different time and a different place. here it wasn’t summer and her hair was long and pinned up and the skies were green, and yet another comforting snap of the shutter, yet another move on.
passionate is a nice word, a good word. It seems the opposite of depression and I really strive that. Passionate is a symbol of love also, which is one of the most important things in a humans life, in some people’s at least. Passionate brings you forward, makes you have intense feelings in life, makes life intense in a certain way good ro bad
I find people who are passionate to be the most intriguing. And I don’t just mean people who are passionate about things that are “interesting” – say, art or literature – but EVERYONE and ANYONE who is passionate about anything, so passionate that they’d dedicate their life to it. I think that’s impressive, no matter who you are.
i’m passionate about what i do. that’s what i’d like to say, what i’d like to admit i’m good at, but i fall short, at everything, at what i love, at what i’m good at, the potential is there but not the passion, people like that are doomed to fail. i wish i had it.
im very passionate about my life in music, it makes me very happy. i’m also very passionate about writeing songs about my life and love. i love books of romance they make me feel happy i love happiness and am very passionate about my best friend.
Like in an embrace, only more generic. I described my friend this way in a peer eval she asked me to write, only ‘passion’ had more to do with lugging a giant bag of weeds all around town until we found a compost bin. There are things to make your heart beat besides other people. Like putting words together, telling stories, making a sheet of paper or a computer screen come alive with phrases you incubated and birthed all on your own.
She is red.
She is the carnations in her glossy dark hair, dark eyes of indiscriminate colour, fingers slim or thick or small or long, curling in air, beckoning.
She traces patterns on worn hardwood floors, smiles, lips unpainted or painted, colour seeped into dry cracks.
She is imperfection, and yet.
And yet.
I am passionate, I’m sure. Just not about anything I can identify. Yet. But especially not you. Ever. And it’s not your fault at all. You just are not and never will be my passion. My God, that was cathartic.
Oh, by the way, I’m sorry.
Passionate. About what? I’ve never been passionate about anything. Except maybe my writing. It’s lonely. But enough.
Sandy is one of the most passonite people on the planet. her love is people . she is passionate about thouse she is arround as well as thous she works with and her family
I dont know what i wouldnt so with out her. i havent been more passionete about anyone else ever
It’s weird isn’t, feeling so passionate about something? A person, a thing, a place. Passion can be for anything. And for me, right now its for a person. I didn’t think it would happen, but here I am, and it did. I don’t know what will come of things.
She cared for no one, was passionate about nothing, and seemed to regard all human interaction as something to be endured.
love, exaggerated love for something! passion is a feeling in your gut that you can’t control, you have to do what you are passionate about or life will suck.
I am passionate about love I love love and love love’s me and so I love love.
I don’t understand anything but this and yet I say that this is passion
I am passionate about love I love love and love love’s me
I know nothing other than this
I understand nothing
I am passionate about love I love love and love love’s me
I understand nothing
Everyone want’s a passionate love. Someone who’s there for them. Who they feel that fire with. Something that makes them feel alive. Passion burns within us, and when the moment is right we want, we need, to let it out. More than anything.
is it only I who feels so passionately? it appears the others just don’t give a damn.
MY one passion is righting whether its fact or fiction I love it I wish i could be a professional righter someday. so i can pour all my passion into my righting.
you think you know anything about passion? oh like what, your newfound ‘passion’ for drinking?does it make you feel like some mighty god, able to pick and choose who your ‘friends’ are with a simple glass?those people don’t give a damn about you, or who you are as a person.they aren’t interested in you, they only hold interest in your daddy’s alcohol.but there is still a sliver of hope, though small as it may be, that we can get through to you.we care.i care.you should care. stop being so arrogant and realize what’s right in front of you…
I like to think I’m passionate about a lot of things. I love music. Is love passion? or does passion have a further meaning. Passion complicates a way a person is towards hobby, or thing with the emotion of love.
I go to this website everyday because I am passionate about writing and want to continuously challenge myself. Too many job interviews…
my life. what i love to do. love. loving yourself, loving other people. loving life. putting everything you have into something. it can be a job, a hobbie a person. using all of you in all ways. never letting the fire in your die. a life long relationship you have with something you love. it’s an extension of love.
With that passionate mental outburst, Jensen closed his eyes resigned to the fate that awaited him. the heat seared into his body and the pain became a white hot stab that slowly spread evenly over his entire body until it was just one pain, one feeling, one hot existence. And for some strange reason that was okay.
Love is more passionate than anything in the world. The best kisses are the passionate ones. The ones when you look into each other’s eyes and say, quietly that they are the best thing thats ever happened to you. Life is full of passionate moments.
Spending twelve hours perfecting a single sentence. Shoving every emotion you have into that lighter tone no one will notice except to imply a light source. And, never, never backing down.
Love of my life, sleeping next to me with his arounds around my body, as if I am his childhood teddy bear. Holding on as if he’s afraid I’ll run away while he’s dreaming.
MY PASSION
running.
wind like shards of ice, cold and unforgiving.
racing.
pavement hard, jagged, bitter and angry.
my feet blister.
my eyes sting.
but i keep going.
determined.
jaw set.
one shaky leap and bound at a time.
climbing.
the mountain looms over me, casting a shadow…
doubt.
regret.
should i turn back?
behind me: a barren landscape of frozen tears and bad memories.
ahead of me: a light. a hope. a DREAM.
faster.
the rocks crumble beneath me, trying to sweep me back down into a bottomless pit.
i stumble. i slip. i trip. i fall.
i don’t give up.
i am torn and cut and bruised and i have nothing but the future.
sweet, bright future…happiness, sanity…love.
i can feel it.
a monster inside me.
a huge, dark, hulking thing with six mouths full of sharp, pointy words.
“give up” it says. “you are too weak” it says. “you are ugly. you are stupid. you’ll never make it. you can’t do it. something is wrong with you. EVERYTHING is wrong with you.”
i keep going.
the monster screams.
i feel like screaming with it, and giving up, but something tells me “not yet…”
i am at the top.
my new life, a beautiful world, is stretched out before me.
i reach for it…fingers aching to touch what could be mine…
CRACK!
the ground caves in, and suddenly i am hanging from a cliff.
the shaking starts.
first a rumble…then a booming, fearful realization.
what if the future does not hold all the answers?
what if i don’t change?
what if i can’t change?
i look down,
the future spinning below me,
clinging to my past world,
the very thing that is about to collapse and destroy me.
the monster, which has been waiting eagerly, finally shows itself.
it stands above me, on the cliff, holding out a terrifying hand to help me up.
its so tempting…just to grab the hand of doubt and stay locked in the past…
never knowing…
always wondering…
safe, even though i might not be happy…
but, for once, i do the right thing.
i turn away from the monsters black eyes and let go.
falling,
falling into my bright, shining dreams, hopes, and future…
leaving all of the dark memories, and the horrible beast, to rot behind me.
Texts, emails, facebook messages, wallposts, faxes, tweets and robots (?). Why not a letter? Next time, try a simple white piece of paper, an envelope, a pen and a stamp. Write I love you and send it to someone you love.
Leidenschaftlich. Hm – dass mir dazu nicht viel einfällt, spricht wohl Bände über mein derzeitiges Leben. Zumindest über das, in dem A. gerade nicht vorkommt. Was soll ich sagen – im Moment gibt es Wichtigeres. Over and out.
He took my hand gently in his, and I could only stare into his eyes, helplessly lost in them, as he leaned forward, pulling me slightly into a passionate kiss that didn’t last long enough. As he pulled away and smiled, I couldn’t help the contagious smile from spreading to my face as well.
He was passsionate like the wind, ethereal, euphoric, and swift. Here once and then gone forever…