Sweet Sixteen, Sixteen candles, Eight plus eight equals Sixteen. After saying the word so many times it’s beginning to sound funny. Do boys celebrate sweet sixteens? Six is a teen.
sixteen. i remember when sixteen seemed SO old. like, that’s when you be like, TOTALLY mature and cool and have it made! seems so young now, and innocent. though i was kind of fucked up when i was sixteen…
Everyone asks you the same question. I guess it’s a part of the rite of passage of getting older. They ask you how it feels. If it feels different. The are only three times when you actually feel different, when you’re sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-one.
when i was sexteen… freudian slip there… things began to take an upward turn in my high school life. money, girls and cars, the fast, scarface-like life was at hand.
It used to be that everybody wanted to be sixteen. To be able to get in a car, fill the take with gas, and drive anywhere you wanted to without stopping until you ran out of gas. It isn’t always that way, though.
Once I reached sixteen, I realised just how horrible it really was. All of the homework, the pressure of jobs, and the pressure of beginning to fall in love. It came so fast, and it was unexpected. And this is what we all dream of.
Sixteen puppy dogs, that’s what I wanted. All with fuzzy tails, and wet noses.
Sixteen puppy dogs was on my Christmas list; but when Santa failed to drop them off, my brothers and I had nothing for Christmas dinner…
To think that I was only sixteen two years ago. I’d never imagine myself at the crossroads that I am at now. I’d never imagine myself to be so content with life, to be so in love. I’d never imagine us sitting on the water edge and staring out into the city that beckons, the city we’ve lived so long in, yet, have never managed to cross paths in, up until now. I’d never have imagined leaving in less than a few months time, standing arms open, welcoming the summer months which will come down hard. But it’s worth it. It is definitely worth it.
if you take sixteen years and times it by two, it is almost how long i had gone with talking to you. i honestly don’t know how I could go another sixteen, times two years without you. and i’m only 31.
She was only sixteen when she met him,
they were only sixteen years when she left him.
It was sixteen years later that she died,
and he was more than satisfied.
sixteen candles down the drain. who sang that song. oh i think it was sponge. seems weird to me word can make an entire song pop in my head seems it would make me think of high school but did not
sixteen people told me they liked my hair yesterday. SIXTEEN. that must mean it looks alright, even though i don’t like it. she cut it too short and i feel all overexposed. i used to be able to hide behind my hair, drape it in front of me like a curtain. but hey, sixteen people. that’s a lot of people.
Sixteen is an age that is synonomous with growing up. There have been many movies about the age sixteen. When you are sixteen you think that you are a grown up. When you are thirty six, you realize that sixteen was just a kid. You look at a sixteen year old and think, I didn’t know anything!
I remember when I was sixteen. Sweet sixteen, never been kissed. Haha, what a laugh. Nowadays 16 is age 10, technology and the fast pace of life have seen to this. If I were sixteen again, I’d relive my youth differently. I’d spend more time in the sun, concentrate more on school, turn down that pack of cigarettes I accepted cause I thought it was cool. I’d look at more clouds, spend more time with my parents cause they actually had good things to say too. I’d avoid the bad things my parents talked about and other things. Sixteen is a funny age, old enough to know better but also old enough to know what you might miss if you try it.
When I was sixteen, I turned into a fairy. I guess becoming 16 was my right of passage into the fairy world. I never knew my mother. I always thought she had died when I was really young. On my 16th birthday, I learned that really she is just a fairy and now we live together in fairyland
when i was sixteeen i was going out with this guy named michael harrison, we went bowling for my birthday and it was lovely, wait i dont knwo if thats who i was gong out with maybe it was garret but im nto sure ill have to look later geese this is hard
I was sixteen one year before I was seventeen. I had a job, was miserable, didn’t have a girlfriend, didn’t have a plan, despised my aunts and uncles and ate lots of fish sandwiches at McDonalds. Worked at a department store.
It’s been almost two years now and so long ago. I wasn’t naive, but innocent and trustworthy, and I wasn’t struggling to make myself look presentable, but achieving humble beauty without much effort. Everyone around me was happy; we were all so very blissful. Why not? We all had such a bright future. But reality has such a disturbing way of twisting us into cold, dishonest monsters…
That was last year for me. Sweet sixteen wasn’t really so sweet. Junior year. I envy other kids. They get parties, they get to hang out with friends, care free. I’m stuck studying. AP exams, the bane of my sixteenth year.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she blew out the seventeenth candle. She had liked sixteen. Sixteen had brought her first boyfriend, first kiss, first car. She said goodbye to sixteen and welcomed seventeen, wondering what it would bring her.
i still think i’m sixteen nowadays. i’m actually seventeen. i guess my mental age is stuck a year back because i still haven’t learned to drive. i haven’t even gotten my permit. i know i’m behind. i know that dragging my feet can do me no good. but honestly, driving is just another social situation, another chance for me to get hurt or hurt someone else, another thing to screw up. god knows i have enough of those already.
at sixteen years of my life i died. then from the depths of my grave i crawled out with the hunger for brains. I love brains. At Sixteen years of my life i changed to become a member of the living dead. I can say that i will be a member of the living dead for next sixteen years or maybe even more.
sixteen was a good time for me. That time that I look back at things being great, where all I had to worry about was not being liked, parents, school, virginity, drinking exams, friends and existential anguish. Nowadays it’s all so…. boring…
sixteen is freedom, friends and a car.
i loved the freedom i had beack then, driving around all the time, laughing, visiting friends and just doing nothing at all. my favorite thing was to go to the river and sit by the tree. We are going to meet there again in 2020. I am looking forward to that day.
Who knows if anyone else will show up, but I will be there….
like the candles. Sixteen like the age etched onto her cheap grave stone. Sixteen like the flowers, her favorite, wilted yellow roses (They had to be wilted.) Falling, I looked down at the necklace that was clasped tightly in my hand. Its heart shape made an imprint on my palm due to the tenseness and ferocity with which I held it. I wasn’t sure if silver held smells very well, but I sniffed the locket anyway. A tiny hint of perfume escaped from the metal heart. The funny thing about sitting in a graveyard at twilight, is the way the sounds of birds and other small animals reverberate against the gravestones. The way they chirp, nibble and sing, unaware of the rotting corpses taking residence under their trees.
Ever thought about sweet sixteens and all that jazz? Have you ever considered doing a full blown-out thousands of dollars birthday party?
I have, and let me tell you, the only thing I think about when i DO think about it, is crashing one.
I mean really, just imagine the look on those pretty little princesses’ face when you see their entire set being demolished into a great, destructional work of art created by yours truly – moi. I think it’d be absolutely smashing. Get it? Smashing? ooh, that was a good one, if I do say so myself. Which I do.
Now, I’ve seen all of those catty shows in which little brats try to concoct the most outrageous, insane, gigantic, expensive party of the year. It makes me sick, honestly. I’ve been around MTV before and seen “My Super Sweet Sixteen.”
What I don’t get it, is why you would want to spend thousands of dollars just for a birthday party. Or why parents can LET their kids spend so much money, for that matter.
Also, might I ask, what is so great about a sweet sixteen? Why is it so ‘sweet?’ Because you get to drive? Oh come ON. That’s like nothing. The joy of driving dies out eventually anyway. Why not have a super sweet twenty one? I mean you can DRINK then. At least that’s a party…
Well, it baffels me really, the age of sixteen… the parties, the drama… and now I’m beginning to ramble. I think I’ll just let this little rant be. But if you’re ever in Manhattan and looking for a good party-crasher… look me up.
When I was sixteen I couldn’t remember what was right from wrong, good from bad, and everything else im between. I loved to rebel against the simplest things.
“Clean your room”
Uhh maybe I’ll get to it later.
“Do your homework”
I have better things to do.
I can’t remember why I thought it was so cool to rebel but something inside me wasn’t willing to give in. I loved knowing that no one could stop me, hold me back, or decide what my fait would be. I longed for attention and the sweet smell of victory seeped into my soul everytime I got away with my schemes.
Ticking, I’m fixing the clock striking sixteen and mixing my mind up, its sickening. Dismiss me.
Too many, too few. Was sixteen once– I suppose we all were– and I’m glad I got through it, but I have no desire to try it a second time. Onward.
Sweet Sixteen, Sixteen candles, Eight plus eight equals Sixteen. After saying the word so many times it’s beginning to sound funny. Do boys celebrate sweet sixteens? Six is a teen.
she is sixeen years old, but she has only enjoyed two birthday-party, because she had been an orphan since she was two years old.
sixteen. i remember when sixteen seemed SO old. like, that’s when you be like, TOTALLY mature and cool and have it made! seems so young now, and innocent. though i was kind of fucked up when i was sixteen…
Everyone asks you the same question. I guess it’s a part of the rite of passage of getting older. They ask you how it feels. If it feels different. The are only three times when you actually feel different, when you’re sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-one.
when i was sexteen… freudian slip there… things began to take an upward turn in my high school life. money, girls and cars, the fast, scarface-like life was at hand.
It used to be that everybody wanted to be sixteen. To be able to get in a car, fill the take with gas, and drive anywhere you wanted to without stopping until you ran out of gas. It isn’t always that way, though.
Once I reached sixteen, I realised just how horrible it really was. All of the homework, the pressure of jobs, and the pressure of beginning to fall in love. It came so fast, and it was unexpected. And this is what we all dream of.
when i turned sixteen my old man knocked me out with a baseball bat. i woke up in a strip club. he knew that was the only way he’d ever get me in one.
Sixteen puppy dogs, that’s what I wanted. All with fuzzy tails, and wet noses.
Sixteen puppy dogs was on my Christmas list; but when Santa failed to drop them off, my brothers and I had nothing for Christmas dinner…
To think that I was only sixteen two years ago. I’d never imagine myself at the crossroads that I am at now. I’d never imagine myself to be so content with life, to be so in love. I’d never imagine us sitting on the water edge and staring out into the city that beckons, the city we’ve lived so long in, yet, have never managed to cross paths in, up until now. I’d never have imagined leaving in less than a few months time, standing arms open, welcoming the summer months which will come down hard. But it’s worth it. It is definitely worth it.
if you take sixteen years and times it by two, it is almost how long i had gone with talking to you. i honestly don’t know how I could go another sixteen, times two years without you. and i’m only 31.
She was only sixteen when she met him,
they were only sixteen years when she left him.
It was sixteen years later that she died,
and he was more than satisfied.
sixteen candles down the drain. who sang that song. oh i think it was sponge. seems weird to me word can make an entire song pop in my head seems it would make me think of high school but did not
sixteen people told me they liked my hair yesterday. SIXTEEN. that must mean it looks alright, even though i don’t like it. she cut it too short and i feel all overexposed. i used to be able to hide behind my hair, drape it in front of me like a curtain. but hey, sixteen people. that’s a lot of people.
Sixteen years old. I remember when I was that age. Haha well it wasn’t that long ago…yeaaaah….
Sixteen is an age that is synonomous with growing up. There have been many movies about the age sixteen. When you are sixteen you think that you are a grown up. When you are thirty six, you realize that sixteen was just a kid. You look at a sixteen year old and think, I didn’t know anything!
I remember when I was sixteen. Sweet sixteen, never been kissed. Haha, what a laugh. Nowadays 16 is age 10, technology and the fast pace of life have seen to this. If I were sixteen again, I’d relive my youth differently. I’d spend more time in the sun, concentrate more on school, turn down that pack of cigarettes I accepted cause I thought it was cool. I’d look at more clouds, spend more time with my parents cause they actually had good things to say too. I’d avoid the bad things my parents talked about and other things. Sixteen is a funny age, old enough to know better but also old enough to know what you might miss if you try it.
sweet sixeteen, never been kissed, it’s all exciting, life still ahead, a couple of short of 18, legal to drive, not to vote, 4 times 4 ,
When I was sixteen, I turned into a fairy. I guess becoming 16 was my right of passage into the fairy world. I never knew my mother. I always thought she had died when I was really young. On my 16th birthday, I learned that really she is just a fairy and now we live together in fairyland
when i was sixteeen i was going out with this guy named michael harrison, we went bowling for my birthday and it was lovely, wait i dont knwo if thats who i was gong out with maybe it was garret but im nto sure ill have to look later geese this is hard
I was sixteen one year before I was seventeen. I had a job, was miserable, didn’t have a girlfriend, didn’t have a plan, despised my aunts and uncles and ate lots of fish sandwiches at McDonalds. Worked at a department store.
It’s been almost two years now and so long ago. I wasn’t naive, but innocent and trustworthy, and I wasn’t struggling to make myself look presentable, but achieving humble beauty without much effort. Everyone around me was happy; we were all so very blissful. Why not? We all had such a bright future. But reality has such a disturbing way of twisting us into cold, dishonest monsters…
That was last year for me. Sweet sixteen wasn’t really so sweet. Junior year. I envy other kids. They get parties, they get to hang out with friends, care free. I’m stuck studying. AP exams, the bane of my sixteenth year.
A single tear rolled down her cheek as she blew out the seventeenth candle. She had liked sixteen. Sixteen had brought her first boyfriend, first kiss, first car. She said goodbye to sixteen and welcomed seventeen, wondering what it would bring her.
sixteen is gone and lost forever
to the distant light that stretches thin
my silhouette
towards the the fading of the day
sixteen is gone and lost forever
to the distant light that stretches thin
my silhouette
towards the the fading of the day
i still think i’m sixteen nowadays. i’m actually seventeen. i guess my mental age is stuck a year back because i still haven’t learned to drive. i haven’t even gotten my permit. i know i’m behind. i know that dragging my feet can do me no good. but honestly, driving is just another social situation, another chance for me to get hurt or hurt someone else, another thing to screw up. god knows i have enough of those already.
sixteen is gone and lost forever
to the distant light that stretches thin
my silhouette
towards the the fading of the day
sixteen is gone and lost forever
to the distant light that stretches thin
my silhouette
towards the the fading of the day
Sixteen was a good year.
Fuck, no it wasn’t. It was just like every other year.
Oh well.
sixteen is gone and lost forever
to the distant light that stretches thin
my silhouette
towards the the fading of the day
at sixteen years of my life i died. then from the depths of my grave i crawled out with the hunger for brains. I love brains. At Sixteen years of my life i changed to become a member of the living dead. I can say that i will be a member of the living dead for next sixteen years or maybe even more.
sixteen is gone and lost forever
to the distant light that stretches thin
my silhouette
towards the the fading of the day
sixteen was a good time for me. That time that I look back at things being great, where all I had to worry about was not being liked, parents, school, virginity, drinking exams, friends and existential anguish. Nowadays it’s all so…. boring…
When he was sixteen, well… it was so long ago that he couldn’t really remember it. It was normal. He was normal. And now… things never stay the same.
sixteen is freedom, friends and a car.
i loved the freedom i had beack then, driving around all the time, laughing, visiting friends and just doing nothing at all. my favorite thing was to go to the river and sit by the tree. We are going to meet there again in 2020. I am looking forward to that day.
Who knows if anyone else will show up, but I will be there….
like the candles. Sixteen like the age etched onto her cheap grave stone. Sixteen like the flowers, her favorite, wilted yellow roses (They had to be wilted.) Falling, I looked down at the necklace that was clasped tightly in my hand. Its heart shape made an imprint on my palm due to the tenseness and ferocity with which I held it. I wasn’t sure if silver held smells very well, but I sniffed the locket anyway. A tiny hint of perfume escaped from the metal heart. The funny thing about sitting in a graveyard at twilight, is the way the sounds of birds and other small animals reverberate against the gravestones. The way they chirp, nibble and sing, unaware of the rotting corpses taking residence under their trees.
Ever thought about sweet sixteens and all that jazz? Have you ever considered doing a full blown-out thousands of dollars birthday party?
I have, and let me tell you, the only thing I think about when i DO think about it, is crashing one.
I mean really, just imagine the look on those pretty little princesses’ face when you see their entire set being demolished into a great, destructional work of art created by yours truly – moi. I think it’d be absolutely smashing. Get it? Smashing? ooh, that was a good one, if I do say so myself. Which I do.
Now, I’ve seen all of those catty shows in which little brats try to concoct the most outrageous, insane, gigantic, expensive party of the year. It makes me sick, honestly. I’ve been around MTV before and seen “My Super Sweet Sixteen.”
What I don’t get it, is why you would want to spend thousands of dollars just for a birthday party. Or why parents can LET their kids spend so much money, for that matter.
Also, might I ask, what is so great about a sweet sixteen? Why is it so ‘sweet?’ Because you get to drive? Oh come ON. That’s like nothing. The joy of driving dies out eventually anyway. Why not have a super sweet twenty one? I mean you can DRINK then. At least that’s a party…
Well, it baffels me really, the age of sixteen… the parties, the drama… and now I’m beginning to ramble. I think I’ll just let this little rant be. But if you’re ever in Manhattan and looking for a good party-crasher… look me up.
When I was sixteen I couldn’t remember what was right from wrong, good from bad, and everything else im between. I loved to rebel against the simplest things.
“Clean your room”
Uhh maybe I’ll get to it later.
“Do your homework”
I have better things to do.
I can’t remember why I thought it was so cool to rebel but something inside me wasn’t willing to give in. I loved knowing that no one could stop me, hold me back, or decide what my fait would be. I longed for attention and the sweet smell of victory seeped into my soul everytime I got away with my schemes.