Revolting against people revolting, wouldn’t that be quite the story. If someone wanted to revolt, they should start with revolting against the non-revoltists, and they may get someone to join
The first thing that comes to our mind when we utter the word revolt is being plain rebellious. In our early teens, being rebellious does not have much significance other than harassing our elders.
the fervour you work yourself up to, becoming passion, an anger, an impulse to fuck, a desire to destroy, to hurt, a glorious revolt – against your living.
When I think of revolt I think of riots and rebels. Setting trash cans on fire, standing up for what you belive. Revolting isn’t always bad… Revolting is about leaving behind something and making something else.
There once was an innocent child living within a city filled with hatred. She did not look down upon her people, she simply embraced their zealous lifestyle. But she wanted to make them warriors for love. She taught them of happiness, and they rewarded her with death; peace was impossible.
Youth in revolt. Rage against the machine and fight for your right to party. Stand up against the man and take what is rightfully yours for this day will never come again. A riot is just what this town needs.
There was time. Time to sit still on cold hallway floors and watch, ghostly, expressionless, removed, as they took them one by one from their bedrooms into the darkness. There was time to revolt, to build barricades, to hide and get armed and organized. There was time to fight, to save, to defend. They took them one by one and we convinced ourselves there was time, still, to be victorious. We were eleven, twelve, thirteen years old with pale freckled faces and dark pupils, wide and scared, bare dirty feet and shaky hands, and we were convinced we were plotting for a revolution, waiting for our time to come. We did not understand yet, that our time was running in the opposite direction.
The peasants swarmed her, tuck her into the mass, and then bloodied her, punching and kicking and biting at the flesh. When dawn finally broke her body was left there, a sullen reminder of their naive queen.
Revolt against the enemy, revolt against the crime. Revolt against the ones who took away your precious time.
Revolting against people revolting, wouldn’t that be quite the story. If someone wanted to revolt, they should start with revolting against the non-revoltists, and they may get someone to join
The first thing that comes to our mind when we utter the word revolt is being plain rebellious. In our early teens, being rebellious does not have much significance other than harassing our elders.
Dear White Trash Couple
Dont bring your kids shopping at 3am, then yell at them for being cranky.
i dont know what to say about it its really limiting and i never use this word like ever. so revolt is revolting
youth in revolt the french revolution napoleon rebel southern secession rise up against oppression riots violence leaders
the fervour you work yourself up to, becoming passion, an anger, an impulse to fuck, a desire to destroy, to hurt, a glorious revolt – against your living.
ooh so this is how it works… hihihi shame me~
When I think of revolt I think of riots and rebels. Setting trash cans on fire, standing up for what you belive. Revolting isn’t always bad… Revolting is about leaving behind something and making something else.
what was the word? i didnt see anything………. r u sure this thing is ok… or is spammed or something????? hey, this is fun… HALLOOO~ !!!
against stupidity, and ignorance. against tea parties and their love for guns, corporations and false gods!
There once was an innocent child living within a city filled with hatred. She did not look down upon her people, she simply embraced their zealous lifestyle. But she wanted to make them warriors for love. She taught them of happiness, and they rewarded her with death; peace was impossible.
Youth in revolt. Rage against the machine and fight for your right to party. Stand up against the man and take what is rightfully yours for this day will never come again. A riot is just what this town needs.
the common people revolted against the cuts the government were enforcing. The revolt could be seen in the eyes of angry unemployed men and women.
There was time. Time to sit still on cold hallway floors and watch, ghostly, expressionless, removed, as they took them one by one from their bedrooms into the darkness. There was time to revolt, to build barricades, to hide and get armed and organized. There was time to fight, to save, to defend. They took them one by one and we convinced ourselves there was time, still, to be victorious. We were eleven, twelve, thirteen years old with pale freckled faces and dark pupils, wide and scared, bare dirty feet and shaky hands, and we were convinced we were plotting for a revolution, waiting for our time to come. We did not understand yet, that our time was running in the opposite direction.
I revolt you. You disgust me. I trusted you. You went off behind my back. Revolt may be a harsh word. But it’s exactly how I feel.
The peasants swarmed her, tuck her into the mass, and then bloodied her, punching and kicking and biting at the flesh. When dawn finally broke her body was left there, a sullen reminder of their naive queen.
I revolt. I want to revolt. She was revolted by the bug on the screen with 3 eyes. One day the whole world will rise. And I too will revolt.