the room was very secluded. there was no way to get out. she was stuck. oh how she wanted to go and see the sun light again. she turned the doorknob and the door opened. she was freeeee.
Secluded as he was in his small room in the attic, Charles drew, day in day out.
His sister and her husband never bothered him, and for that he was grateful. Susan seemed to know exactly what he needed and when, and it was a good thing her husband had been understanding enough to allow him, Charles, to move in with them.
It couldn’t be easy, Charles thought, a quirk in his lips, living with a man as strange as he.
The place was secluded which is why I liked it so much, then I needed a bottle of wine and had to drive miles to get it. That was when I wanted to live in a village again – with a co-operative that was down the road and open late.
I felt secluded as I sat in my room, left alone in the darkness. My only solace came from peering through the key sized aperture beneath my door handle. Through the insignificant opening, hoots and toons were heard aplenty.
there’s a lake near my house. when i go there, i can’t hear the cars passing or my thoughts anymore. there’s just silence. and the silence matches the scenery. where the secluded forest just makes everything outside it feel so far away
at the bottom of the garden, she felt isolated from everyone. Whether the pink of her skirt or the lue of the pinafore peeked out from behind the tree what was important to is that in her mind she was invisible. It was so boring all the grownups and there chatter
I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what to think, and I don’t know what to say, and I don’t know what to feel. Is this what it’s like to be alone? To have no one to talk to, to have no one to tell things? It’s killing me. It’s killing me inside. I need you, and I need you now, but you don’t need me. You don’t even care about me. You don’t want me around, so I’ll just stay here alone forever until you realize you need me too.
The room she sat in was dark and gray. The carpet was gray. The bedsheets were gray. Even the bouquet on the table was gray. Her words were gray because nobody heard them. And her prayers were gray because she had been led astray.
I feel secluded from friends, from family, from everyone. I just want to be involved, but I’m not. It makes me feel awful. I just want to be involved is that too much to ask for?
It was late—or early, she mused darkly as she trudged along, depending on the way one looked at it. The forest was dark and full of strange shifting nighttime sounds. She was looking for a path, but there wasn’t one. The entire stretch of forest was secluded, quiet as if holding its breath. The stars had long ago been swallowed in the early morning blackness.
Exhausted, she stopped and kneeled into the damp grass. The trees leaned in, trailing tentative leafy fingers across her skin and finally whispering her to sleep.
Seclusion from the world is what I feel. But seclusion from the loud voices in my own head is what I need.
Static from the power lines that are the synapses within my mind rumbles so loud the voices of reason from my heart to my head aren’t loud enough to pierce through.
I just want to be alone from myself for a little while is all.
I feel so secluded. Life is full of people. Walking, talking. Singing, dancing. The world flows by, and here I sit, secluded. Some say that it’s not so bad to be lonely. I don’t think they understand what true loneliness feels like.
A half-illuminated face shines at me. Her right eye in shadows of her dark room and her left reflecting the bright screen of a computer. I flip a switch and brighten the room.
“Well?” I ask.
“I don’t feel like cards tonight.” She responds, “Besides, all my friends are on.” She gestures to the screen.
Back at the table we enjoy each others’ company. In the room she remains secludedly and deludedly social.
I was entering the dream state secluded by the reality of life ablaze. How could such mysteries lead me to the desperate quiet of the night? I am not ashamed of her struggles, no, I am not ashamed of her shoulders as they peak into my pupils, her scantily dressed ways holler.
The realization that you are the only one in the world who can make yourself happy is really hard to accept. I don’t want to take responsibility for feeling secluded because it takes so much work to un-seclude myself. I don’t just want company; I get plenty of that. Engaging shamelessly is engaging creatively, and that takes work. Laziness is a relative thing. Only you can be the judge of if what you are doing is enough, and the truth will nag at you if you lie to yourself.
I have been through the secluded ranges and ate a migrant fish. He was under the sand and I was certain he had made a mistake. I was uncertain how to cook him as he was a jerky from the summer heat. The salty manifestation on my palette fed my skin the way.
I am always secluded. I am always an island unto myself; I am the lonely iceberg in the middle of the ocean, the tallest tree in a forest of shrubs. They say seclusion is a good thing, but the emptiness inside my chest does not feel good. It feels like a ghost limb, an echo of pain, something that should hurt but doesn’t but still does, if that makes any sense.
secluded frog face named Trench. tadpoles with yoyo legs sputtering in the clay, gross gross lilly pads with tiny pool of algae in their veins, a frog plops the table of driftwood, leaps across the fronds.
We climbed the 53 steps to our spot, our own secluded getaway far above it all. We went t o do what we ought not to do and to enjoy every single second of it. What bliss!
He never felt more alone than he did in the city. A crushing wave of millions of uncaring human beings. Even in the heart of the mob the loneliness was, at times, excruciating.
I feel alone in a sea of people. No I don’t I’m just being dramatic. Like lots of people are. Yea I get lonely but who doesn’t at some point in time, right?
Secluded in the mind can lead to no where good
alone in the temple will not lead yo out the hood
why do we leave when we know we can achieve
knowingly bleed for others to breath
in the corner of this capacious world, there is a secluded area known as “my room.” in my room, my darkest, most inner thoughts can be expressed without anyone else around.
Tom’s little woodland shack wasn’t much to look at. Nothing in the way of fancy gadgets, but it had all he needed for his line of work. It was…secluded, but not so secluded so as to draw suspicion. Perfect.
she sat at the back fo the classroom, the other students milling about before the class began. Writing in ehr notebook, she was occupied in her own written world. Why look to the people around her when she can come up with a world of happiness by herself? In her world, life was whatever she wanted it to be. There were no set rules, n
being secluded is something that can be good and bad. Personally when I am secluded I am usually holed up in my bedroom, but sometimes you can be secluded as in far away, REALLY far away. For instance, a secluded cabin in the smoky mountains, that’s pretty far away. I am secluding myself right now, which is sad
the room was very secluded. there was no way to get out. she was stuck. oh how she wanted to go and see the sun light again. she turned the doorknob and the door opened. she was freeeee.
what are you touching?
I think a lot about making grand motions, but never seem to carry them through.
one for I Would Like To Change That, please.
Secluded as he was in his small room in the attic, Charles drew, day in day out.
His sister and her husband never bothered him, and for that he was grateful. Susan seemed to know exactly what he needed and when, and it was a good thing her husband had been understanding enough to allow him, Charles, to move in with them.
It couldn’t be easy, Charles thought, a quirk in his lips, living with a man as strange as he.
The place was secluded which is why I liked it so much, then I needed a bottle of wine and had to drive miles to get it. That was when I wanted to live in a village again – with a co-operative that was down the road and open late.
I felt secluded as I sat in my room, left alone in the darkness. My only solace came from peering through the key sized aperture beneath my door handle. Through the insignificant opening, hoots and toons were heard aplenty.
there’s a lake near my house. when i go there, i can’t hear the cars passing or my thoughts anymore. there’s just silence. and the silence matches the scenery. where the secluded forest just makes everything outside it feel so far away
at the bottom of the garden, she felt isolated from everyone. Whether the pink of her skirt or the lue of the pinafore peeked out from behind the tree what was important to is that in her mind she was invisible. It was so boring all the grownups and there chatter
I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what to think, and I don’t know what to say, and I don’t know what to feel. Is this what it’s like to be alone? To have no one to talk to, to have no one to tell things? It’s killing me. It’s killing me inside. I need you, and I need you now, but you don’t need me. You don’t even care about me. You don’t want me around, so I’ll just stay here alone forever until you realize you need me too.
The room she sat in was dark and gray. The carpet was gray. The bedsheets were gray. Even the bouquet on the table was gray. Her words were gray because nobody heard them. And her prayers were gray because she had been led astray.
It’s amazing what isolation in a secluded room can do to one’s mental state.
I feel secluded from friends, from family, from everyone. I just want to be involved, but I’m not. It makes me feel awful. I just want to be involved is that too much to ask for?
It was late—or early, she mused darkly as she trudged along, depending on the way one looked at it. The forest was dark and full of strange shifting nighttime sounds. She was looking for a path, but there wasn’t one. The entire stretch of forest was secluded, quiet as if holding its breath. The stars had long ago been swallowed in the early morning blackness.
Exhausted, she stopped and kneeled into the damp grass. The trees leaned in, trailing tentative leafy fingers across her skin and finally whispering her to sleep.
Seclusion from the world is what I feel. But seclusion from the loud voices in my own head is what I need.
Static from the power lines that are the synapses within my mind rumbles so loud the voices of reason from my heart to my head aren’t loud enough to pierce through.
I just want to be alone from myself for a little while is all.
I feel so secluded. Life is full of people. Walking, talking. Singing, dancing. The world flows by, and here I sit, secluded. Some say that it’s not so bad to be lonely. I don’t think they understand what true loneliness feels like.
she built walls with her words. etched together fragments of old wounds and clingy, hardened memories.
A soul is secluded in the deepest sense for being born alone and going back through that tunnel alone. Even so, I don’t feel alone.
A half-illuminated face shines at me. Her right eye in shadows of her dark room and her left reflecting the bright screen of a computer. I flip a switch and brighten the room.
“Well?” I ask.
“I don’t feel like cards tonight.” She responds, “Besides, all my friends are on.” She gestures to the screen.
Back at the table we enjoy each others’ company. In the room she remains secludedly and deludedly social.
I was entering the dream state secluded by the reality of life ablaze. How could such mysteries lead me to the desperate quiet of the night? I am not ashamed of her struggles, no, I am not ashamed of her shoulders as they peak into my pupils, her scantily dressed ways holler.
The realization that you are the only one in the world who can make yourself happy is really hard to accept. I don’t want to take responsibility for feeling secluded because it takes so much work to un-seclude myself. I don’t just want company; I get plenty of that. Engaging shamelessly is engaging creatively, and that takes work. Laziness is a relative thing. Only you can be the judge of if what you are doing is enough, and the truth will nag at you if you lie to yourself.
I have been through the secluded ranges and ate a migrant fish. He was under the sand and I was certain he had made a mistake. I was uncertain how to cook him as he was a jerky from the summer heat. The salty manifestation on my palette fed my skin the way.
I am always secluded. I am always an island unto myself; I am the lonely iceberg in the middle of the ocean, the tallest tree in a forest of shrubs. They say seclusion is a good thing, but the emptiness inside my chest does not feel good. It feels like a ghost limb, an echo of pain, something that should hurt but doesn’t but still does, if that makes any sense.
secluded frog face named Trench. tadpoles with yoyo legs sputtering in the clay, gross gross lilly pads with tiny pool of algae in their veins, a frog plops the table of driftwood, leaps across the fronds.
Sometimes, I feel really secluded from you. But right now I’m really glad I don’t. :)
Give your mind something new, something else to feed on
Why bother missing someone who doesn’t notice you’re gone?
We climbed the 53 steps to our spot, our own secluded getaway far above it all. We went t o do what we ought not to do and to enjoy every single second of it. What bliss!
He never felt more alone than he did in the city. A crushing wave of millions of uncaring human beings. Even in the heart of the mob the loneliness was, at times, excruciating.
I feel alone in a sea of people. No I don’t I’m just being dramatic. Like lots of people are. Yea I get lonely but who doesn’t at some point in time, right?
This is the suburbs. No people and no trees.
The suicide rate in developed countries grows taller than redwoods.
Why? We don’t have the company of our wooden brethren.
Alone in our race to the top.
Service. Execute. Cloud. Unity. Dead. Dead.
Secluded in the mind can lead to no where good
alone in the temple will not lead yo out the hood
why do we leave when we know we can achieve
knowingly bleed for others to breath
in the corner of this capacious world, there is a secluded area known as “my room.” in my room, my darkest, most inner thoughts can be expressed without anyone else around.
Tom’s little woodland shack wasn’t much to look at. Nothing in the way of fancy gadgets, but it had all he needed for his line of work. It was…secluded, but not so secluded so as to draw suspicion. Perfect.
shy and dark and alone. forest or shaded park with pine needles on the ground. earthy smells drifting upwards from the dirt disturbed by my feet
alone in my room. alone in time. alone in life. lock the doors and fill the glass, private life gone wrong, draw the curtains
I want to be alone with you in a secluded forest and do kinky things.
Alone
In a quite place
A safe place
Full of wonder
Mystery
Joy
Heartbreak
Where I can forget my life
And all the problems
It is surrounded by
And instead
Take up the life of a hero
Or a villain
Or maybe somebody who just isn’t me
Secluded
Lost in the pages
Lost in another world
she sat at the back fo the classroom, the other students milling about before the class began. Writing in ehr notebook, she was occupied in her own written world. Why look to the people around her when she can come up with a world of happiness by herself? In her world, life was whatever she wanted it to be. There were no set rules, n
stressful thing that tells you where to be and what to do. do this do that. go here. go there. at this time. at this place.
Sometimes, I feel really secluded from me. But right now I’m really glad I don’t. :)
being secluded is something that can be good and bad. Personally when I am secluded I am usually holed up in my bedroom, but sometimes you can be secluded as in far away, REALLY far away. For instance, a secluded cabin in the smoky mountains, that’s pretty far away. I am secluding myself right now, which is sad