runaway from home and get a real life.. runaway from reality and live in a fantasy world… runaway from an abusive husband and finally be free of tyranny… runaway runaway home.
I just got out of the bath so the chances of me running away are slim. Perhaps if the house was on fire i would be more willing to expose my pink bits to the public of norwich, but as things stand i’m staying put. Runaway is a bad song from the 90’s if i remember correctly. I don’t remember who did it, but i suspect it was someone lame like rosie gains. She was rubbish, but i must confess i purchased a cd single of hers. before i saw her, mind.
its got planes on it
planes fly
i like planes
run ways are made of specail cement
planes look like sharks
sharks are awesome
they have teeth and stuff
they can kill you
i want to fly in a plane
take a trip
i would just love to run away.
its selfish of me to think such a thing..i know
but i want to run away from all this pressure
pressure to be all that i can be
pressure to be the amazing pretty girl everyone loves
pressure to be a good catholic
The Corrs said and my crazy old housemate used to sing it like her life depended on it, like the essence of all teary-eyed homerlanders wanted it to be true. It’s a song!
Somedays i see the sunset, and wish that i could reach it by glancing towards the east…my words would carry me further than your arms could ever dream of let along your ambitions or hopes…maybe one day you will wake up and realize that together we can runaway…and together…we could be.
I have thought about it so many times. If it wasn’t for my younger sister, I would be on my way now. It’s going to be three a.m. and my mind won’t stop, but it wants to “runaway”.
a runaway has left the building. if this runaway is not found then i will surely die. this runaway is my only son. why oh why did he runaway? i must catch him. i must find him. i must bring him back, this runaway. I will find him. i know i will.
I want to run to run away as far as i can go. I feel as though the world is trying to box me in and all i want to do is to escape, to run to the middle of nowhere and just be. Be and do and exist and create and go as crazy as I can think of going.
I’ve always wanted to go. There is something absolutely amazing about the idea of running away. Going. Quickly and quietly, with no word to anyone of intentions or reasons. Get behind the wheel, sell my things, and head out on that wide open road of possibilities.
Thereis a movie out right now about the Runaways I think. Joan Jett? Lita Ford? I think that’s this. She’s a little runaway too. That’s a song. It’s a romantic idea, to run away. Practically and in real life it rarely works out well for the people that do it.
I want to runaway with him. With Drew. To be with him forever. To escape this horrible house where they yell at me. Where they think I am broken. I want to change, to be free. To not be here anymore. I want to be me. Secret- I think I have enough talent to be an artist, just not the ego
My little run away. How did you run away, things bein what they are? surveillance all around, cameras tracking your move, microphones recording the scritchscritchscratch of your pen, of my pen, people riffling through your drawers at the least opportunity like forgetting to block the door. Are you some place better, my little short stack?
She had never felt so cold before. Her fingers felt numb, and her legs like rubber. She was oblivious to her own body sensations. The intensity of the cold was so high, that all she could sense, recognise or feel was her vision. She saw the road ahead. And then ran. Letting the extreme cold hit her on her face. Poke her, let it stab her. She decided to runaway from the cold intensities to feel something else.
Her hair was plastered to her head, and drips ran down her gentle face. Her piercings and tatoos were in strong contrast to her sweet face, which looked sad and alone. She must have been a runaway, not looking more than about fifteen years old. She sat with a young boy, around the same age, huddled under an old dirty blanket.
I never ran away as a child, but I find it more difficult to keep myself from running away as an adult. There’s a whole world out there, waiting for me. Waiting to be discovered. But no, I spend it stuck in a tiny apartment with my college textbooks…loathing every minute of every day. I’ll break out of here sometime.
those who could come back, but, by their own volition, decide otherwise. often suffer from self-victimization or lack of maturity, but are sometimes borne forth by legitimate concerns.
i run farther and farther away from the pain that is my life. She won’t return my test, my messages on facebook. Nothing. I hate life. I aim my car to some deserted road out side of town. I sit with my typewritere, documenting my final words. I slice into my wrist, letting the blood flow free, knowing that it was her fault.
stupid kristen stewart movie, who cares about her anyway? runaway, well, i mean the obvious is running away. but i don’t think that really matters. runaways, like children. i picture sixteen years old, confused, and pathetic and not sure of what they want. angsty. don’t run away from me little girl, you don’t know what you want. and it’s not my fault.
“Congratulations Mrs. Graye, you are pregnant!”
I wanted to slap the nurse across the face, throw up, cry, laugh and runaway all at the same time.
All I said was “it’s Ms. Graye. Thank you”
I left.
Naturally, it was raining. I thogjt about you. That about what I could do, what I wouldn’t do. I baby. A person. What would I do now?
Sometimes I wish I could run away from my life. Not my mom or my home; I love both of those, but I wish I could just leave school and responsibilities and extra-curriculars.
I flee over dirt tracks, and the hounds of a past world and a dead empire call my name from the distance, and I run. I have no use for the old world and, Dear God, I want to scream. The horizon is just too beautiful.
I wanted to run away. I wanted to be that girl waiting on the train tracks, looking aimlessly for somebody to love. I wanted to look in alleyways, and dark places for you. I wanted to run away with you.
I dream of being a runaway. There are just days when you want to toss the world away. It’s gotten old, ugly, sad, and crude. It’s hideous. Be a runaway. You know what it is to be a runaway? It’s the same as being a clean slate. Enjoy it. Run. Away.
Runaway. Her long brown hair is flowing behind her as she runs down the sidewalk. The buildings stretch high above her and cast dark shadows in which she runs. She looks behind her. There’s no one there, but she keeps running, from something. From someone.
Believing you can make it when honestly you know deep inside you can’t. Letting go and doing it anyway. Ending up back home, because as sure as you were, the cops still found you and made you go home.
i was a runaway for one night. i ran to a big dirt mound in at the edge of my backyard and the woods. I slept there in a hooded sweatshirt until the sun came up and my mom called me in for breakfast.
She was a runaway and she was mine. No need to count the years between us. We were free from the world. We walked along their city streets and made love in their sewers, but we were never really there.
i think of joan jett and cherrie currie and the runaways
me when i was 8 wanting to do it everyday but never having the guts
a lonely kid on the street with no where to go
why did you runaway from our love?
why did you run away from such a good life
why do you alwasy try to run away from me
a homelss kid
kids dont do it! your parents love you
The freedom and space to be yourself. Letting go of what you are used to and exploring danger and prospects while having to make your own choices. Missing the guidance of your parents. Missing your own bed and someone to help with your decisions. Missing your overprotective mom and insensitive dad. Realizing you didnt have it so bad. Turnig around and going home to stay a kid a while longer.
runaway from home and get a real life.. runaway from reality and live in a fantasy world… runaway from an abusive husband and finally be free of tyranny… runaway runaway home.
I need to runaway.. hide… I know it’s not the right thing to do, i know this will have a bad impact on me, but I do not care anymore, I just want out…
I feel like running away… from your face, from your reality, from myself… because i see you inside me, every time, everyday..
I just got out of the bath so the chances of me running away are slim. Perhaps if the house was on fire i would be more willing to expose my pink bits to the public of norwich, but as things stand i’m staying put. Runaway is a bad song from the 90’s if i remember correctly. I don’t remember who did it, but i suspect it was someone lame like rosie gains. She was rubbish, but i must confess i purchased a cd single of hers. before i saw her, mind.
its got planes on it
planes fly
i like planes
run ways are made of specail cement
planes look like sharks
sharks are awesome
they have teeth and stuff
they can kill you
i want to fly in a plane
take a trip
i would just love to run away.
its selfish of me to think such a thing..i know
but i want to run away from all this pressure
pressure to be all that i can be
pressure to be the amazing pretty girl everyone loves
pressure to be a good catholic
but the question is..
where would i run to?
The Corrs said and my crazy old housemate used to sing it like her life depended on it, like the essence of all teary-eyed homerlanders wanted it to be true. It’s a song!
Somedays i see the sunset, and wish that i could reach it by glancing towards the east…my words would carry me further than your arms could ever dream of let along your ambitions or hopes…maybe one day you will wake up and realize that together we can runaway…and together…we could be.
I have thought about it so many times. If it wasn’t for my younger sister, I would be on my way now. It’s going to be three a.m. and my mind won’t stop, but it wants to “runaway”.
a runaway has left the building. if this runaway is not found then i will surely die. this runaway is my only son. why oh why did he runaway? i must catch him. i must find him. i must bring him back, this runaway. I will find him. i know i will.
runaway with the day
dont try to break it
with your glass
hands wont hold if you
have nothing to fill them with
and
I want to run to run away as far as i can go. I feel as though the world is trying to box me in and all i want to do is to escape, to run to the middle of nowhere and just be. Be and do and exist and create and go as crazy as I can think of going.
bvla bla bla
I’ve always wanted to go. There is something absolutely amazing about the idea of running away. Going. Quickly and quietly, with no word to anyone of intentions or reasons. Get behind the wheel, sell my things, and head out on that wide open road of possibilities.
Thereis a movie out right now about the Runaways I think. Joan Jett? Lita Ford? I think that’s this. She’s a little runaway too. That’s a song. It’s a romantic idea, to run away. Practically and in real life it rarely works out well for the people that do it.
I want to runaway with him. With Drew. To be with him forever. To escape this horrible house where they yell at me. Where they think I am broken. I want to change, to be free. To not be here anymore. I want to be me. Secret- I think I have enough talent to be an artist, just not the ego
My little run away. How did you run away, things bein what they are? surveillance all around, cameras tracking your move, microphones recording the scritchscritchscratch of your pen, of my pen, people riffling through your drawers at the least opportunity like forgetting to block the door. Are you some place better, my little short stack?
“runaway with me” she said
“if we don’t go now, we may never get another chance”
following her was the wisest move i ever made
She had never felt so cold before. Her fingers felt numb, and her legs like rubber. She was oblivious to her own body sensations. The intensity of the cold was so high, that all she could sense, recognise or feel was her vision. She saw the road ahead. And then ran. Letting the extreme cold hit her on her face. Poke her, let it stab her. She decided to runaway from the cold intensities to feel something else.
Her hair was plastered to her head, and drips ran down her gentle face. Her piercings and tatoos were in strong contrast to her sweet face, which looked sad and alone. She must have been a runaway, not looking more than about fifteen years old. She sat with a young boy, around the same age, huddled under an old dirty blanket.
“Take me away.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. Anywhere but here.”
The cab driver nods. He’s seen girls just like her, eyes pale and sad, faint tear tracks down her cheeks.
These are the ones who don’t go home.
He shifts the car into gear and puts his foot on the gas pedal. It’s gonna be a long drive.
I never ran away as a child, but I find it more difficult to keep myself from running away as an adult. There’s a whole world out there, waiting for me. Waiting to be discovered. But no, I spend it stuck in a tiny apartment with my college textbooks…loathing every minute of every day. I’ll break out of here sometime.
love
those who could come back, but, by their own volition, decide otherwise. often suffer from self-victimization or lack of maturity, but are sometimes borne forth by legitimate concerns.
da do run run run da do run run
she’s a little…
Holy Grail – run away, run away!!!!
stick with a polka dot sack on the end
i run farther and farther away from the pain that is my life. She won’t return my test, my messages on facebook. Nothing. I hate life. I aim my car to some deserted road out side of town. I sit with my typewritere, documenting my final words. I slice into my wrist, letting the blood flow free, knowing that it was her fault.
stupid kristen stewart movie, who cares about her anyway? runaway, well, i mean the obvious is running away. but i don’t think that really matters. runaways, like children. i picture sixteen years old, confused, and pathetic and not sure of what they want. angsty. don’t run away from me little girl, you don’t know what you want. and it’s not my fault.
“Congratulations Mrs. Graye, you are pregnant!”
I wanted to slap the nurse across the face, throw up, cry, laugh and runaway all at the same time.
All I said was “it’s Ms. Graye. Thank you”
I left.
Naturally, it was raining. I thogjt about you. That about what I could do, what I wouldn’t do. I baby. A person. What would I do now?
Sometimes I wish I could run away from my life. Not my mom or my home; I love both of those, but I wish I could just leave school and responsibilities and extra-curriculars.
I flee over dirt tracks, and the hounds of a past world and a dead empire call my name from the distance, and I run. I have no use for the old world and, Dear God, I want to scream. The horizon is just too beautiful.
I wanted to run away. I wanted to be that girl waiting on the train tracks, looking aimlessly for somebody to love. I wanted to look in alleyways, and dark places for you. I wanted to run away with you.
I just never expected to find you in the light.
I dream of being a runaway. There are just days when you want to toss the world away. It’s gotten old, ugly, sad, and crude. It’s hideous. Be a runaway. You know what it is to be a runaway? It’s the same as being a clean slate. Enjoy it. Run. Away.
Runaway. Her long brown hair is flowing behind her as she runs down the sidewalk. The buildings stretch high above her and cast dark shadows in which she runs. She looks behind her. There’s no one there, but she keeps running, from something. From someone.
Believing you can make it when honestly you know deep inside you can’t. Letting go and doing it anyway. Ending up back home, because as sure as you were, the cops still found you and made you go home.
i was a runaway for one night. i ran to a big dirt mound in at the edge of my backyard and the woods. I slept there in a hooded sweatshirt until the sun came up and my mom called me in for breakfast.
She was a runaway and she was mine. No need to count the years between us. We were free from the world. We walked along their city streets and made love in their sewers, but we were never really there.
i think of joan jett and cherrie currie and the runaways
me when i was 8 wanting to do it everyday but never having the guts
a lonely kid on the street with no where to go
why did you runaway from our love?
why did you run away from such a good life
why do you alwasy try to run away from me
a homelss kid
kids dont do it! your parents love you
The freedom and space to be yourself. Letting go of what you are used to and exploring danger and prospects while having to make your own choices. Missing the guidance of your parents. Missing your own bed and someone to help with your decisions. Missing your overprotective mom and insensitive dad. Realizing you didnt have it so bad. Turnig around and going home to stay a kid a while longer.
runaway
bride is a great movie! I love julia roberts, I get her and sandra bullock mixed up and everyone thinks I am crazy for it!