The town is not that different from the city. No one can tell an actual difference. Town somehow sounds way more British, however, so do I; when I say town, rather than city. I lived in a small town/ I lived in a small city
I grew up in a small town. I was always taught to respect the people around me and mind my manners. To be honest, I really liked it that way. It has made me who I am today and I am grateful for the lessons that I learned there. Not many people can say that about their hometown. For me, it more than I can do to keep from trailing on.
My town is not a giant metropolis, or a tiny blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town, but it’s like the furniture Goldilocks decides on in every situation – it’s just right.
The town was made up of buildings erected back when its citizens believed in witch hunting. On the first of every night, history came to life when one woman was randomly selected to be the “witch”. People would spend the entire night trying to catch the poor soul, only rewarding her with fire in the end.
The town I grew up in was very small. During high school, we found that the only actual fun way to spend our free time, and the time were supposed to be at school, was drinking and getting high. I suppose I can really only speak for myself, but we had A LOT of fun. We got into a good amount of trouble while we were at it, but I suppose that counts as fun too. I don’t live there in anymore, but when I visit my dad I usually get a sense of foreboding as I drive in on the one highway that leads through town and into the mountains. Those mountains were a strong presence in the fun and trouble and are quite beautiful. I guess I can see that the negative feelings I get when I go home are conjured from remembering mostly the trouble. It’s when I see an old friend in one of the many local bars that I let any bad feelings slide and I can remember why I had so much fun. Why we had so much fun. I could never live there again and I want my dad to leave that place, but that town really is a huge part of what made me become the person I am. Thanks, Mountain View, and no thanks.
In this town, we come and go. Nobody stays forever. It’s a sad but sweet feeling knowing that you only have a few more days until you get to spread your wings and fly.
The lights were sparkling and in your eyes I could see the past, present, future, and in that moment I knew it was you. I knew that it would always be you no matter where life takes us. I don’t know much about what is to come except that I want it to be spent together forever and ever. I wish there was a forever.
The town was small, quaint, and dead. There was no life to be seen in any corner of the town. If you listened close enough, you could perhaps hear dogs barking. Children singing. But perhaps it was just your imagination. The town was dead.
i live in the biggest bird-cage of a town. Everything here seems to move in slow motion. Even the ambulances seem to creep along like they have nowhere important to go. I just want to break away from here. There’s always, always someplace better.
There was a town in the middle of Arizona, whom not most of the world knows exists. This town is mainly occupied by drug addicts and drug dealers. It’s own social ecosystem.
the town in which i was born
the town in which i lived
the towns that i have inhabited
all have made me who i am
cross waters
into new unexplored lands
I’d like to go to town. Literally and figuratively. I’d like to get off this campus and go into the city, I’d love to let loose and be free. But I just cannot. I cannot bring myself to lighten up. Every time anything happens I look at it from the worst possible perspective. And yet somehow people call me an optimist. I don’t get it.
My town is called Pittsburgh. I absolutely love it, and though I don’t live there currently, I sincerely miss it nearly every day. Everything about it is wonderful, from the weather (though I don’t like the cold or snow, there it’s tolerable) to the history of the place, and the wonderfully kind, small-town people.
Not everyone wanted to live in the big city. I for one wanted to live in the country. When I moved out of the bustling world and into the clean town air, I didn’t know that this move would mark the beginning of my destiny.
i lived in a small town for most of my life.
a faded memory swathed in years of simple harmony
an uncomplicated life as thin as the string that bound me to it
only years of sunshine and meadows, living a life of
singular emotions, short and unyielding and gone in a
fleeting second, my heart never full enough to
the brim with emotions scarcely understood,
never had a stream or creek that overflowed,
never took that jump off a risky precipice:
i only knew that life for what it was, simple
and uncluttered and small, and until now
i never knew how sad it really was.
Off to town they went. With hands clenched tightly in each other’s fists, and smiles as wide and bright as a strip of Vegas show clubs. These dames were easy to please, Jack thought. Dinner, dancing, flowers. He chuckled. “This was too easy.”
Townhouses are pretty cool. They’re expensive though. My friend used to say townhouses before she sneezed so she wouldn’t sneeze. They’re always really pretty. Nice windows, but expensive. I want to live in a townhouse in chicago. It’d be pretty kickass, I’d probably share one with haley. we’d have a blue shark in our doorway and have townhouse parties erry night.
There was a small town in the middle of nowhere. The town had small houses, no bigger than a thimble. It was so tiny that the rare traveler didn’t normally see it, but a young boy named Jake was a different story.
I live in a beautiful and quaint little town. I know all the people, and they are quite good to me. I grew up in this town, and I have learned to love it. When the flowers blossom in the spring they are just lovely.
i miss my home town a little bit, but not because of the actual place, i just miss my family and the dogs and my room. and the food, fuckin love the food back home. besides that everything is trillions of times better here.
The towns flew by. Each one had its own little story. Its own history and memories. Past and future. But none of them were my destination. My destination was death and my life a journey.
A small place. I grow up. Knowing everyone, knowing the green grass, and where each prickly ball falls. Knowing where to step, where not to. What to say around what people and what not to. Gossip, flow through the jam packed streets from ear to ear, changing the story.
There once was a town in the middle of the woods. All the people who lived there were unusually happy. I think it was the water or the food because everything tasted sweeter there. The people danced and played and went on like this for years Everyone was a child and no one grew old.
In the little town I live in you don’t do much. You walk around and let the world come and go as you please. You take things easy. With no worries. Life goes on no matter what happens.
A town is a place, not just a place a collection of people, a collection of people who all have dreams and loves and wants and needs, you live in a town, everyone you know lives in a town, every needs a town and if you don’t have one, i suggest you find one.
Towns are where everyone comes together. Everyone knows everyone. There’s that one ice shop or hang out spot everyone goes to where sometimes a treat will be “on the house”. Towns are small with friendly people.
I have lived all my life here, of all places, in the middle of nowhere. I want to see the world beyond, but uncertainty blocks the way. From now on, I vow to shove doubt aside and move forward.
When we were walking down town to the grocery store, I noticed a man who had a large nose and walked with a limp. We both exchanged glances and simply trotted off.
I live in Mandeville, Louisiana. My bffls totes my goats live hurrr
like omg they are
madeline
mckenna
cara
jaelyn
caroline
mason
daniel
rachel
all of these people rock my world homeqirl
like its gay though, this town is filled with whores.
There are lots of towns filled with different kinds of people. I think of everyone knowing everyone in the town they live in. I think of towns being in the middle of nowhere. I think of towns having friendly people.
Everyone wanted out; they thought the town was the problem. But I knew better. They made it miserable and false. Behind the small doors of warm, lit up places, I longed to make an appearance just to let them know that they no loner defined my sense of self. I didn’t though; the car never stopped. It carried me past the laughter and music, and as I heard the voices beside me, I knew they were all I needed even if my strings were still untying themselves someplace else.
theres a place down the street where I not allowed to go. Its the end of our part of the town, and the beginning of theirs. I always was interested by this, to me, it looked very much the same.
The town is not that different from the city. No one can tell an actual difference. Town somehow sounds way more British, however, so do I; when I say town, rather than city. I lived in a small town/ I lived in a small city
I grew up in a small town. I was always taught to respect the people around me and mind my manners. To be honest, I really liked it that way. It has made me who I am today and I am grateful for the lessons that I learned there. Not many people can say that about their hometown. For me, it more than I can do to keep from trailing on.
My town is not a giant metropolis, or a tiny blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town, but it’s like the furniture Goldilocks decides on in every situation – it’s just right.
The town was made up of buildings erected back when its citizens believed in witch hunting. On the first of every night, history came to life when one woman was randomly selected to be the “witch”. People would spend the entire night trying to catch the poor soul, only rewarding her with fire in the end.
The town I grew up in was very small. During high school, we found that the only actual fun way to spend our free time, and the time were supposed to be at school, was drinking and getting high. I suppose I can really only speak for myself, but we had A LOT of fun. We got into a good amount of trouble while we were at it, but I suppose that counts as fun too. I don’t live there in anymore, but when I visit my dad I usually get a sense of foreboding as I drive in on the one highway that leads through town and into the mountains. Those mountains were a strong presence in the fun and trouble and are quite beautiful. I guess I can see that the negative feelings I get when I go home are conjured from remembering mostly the trouble. It’s when I see an old friend in one of the many local bars that I let any bad feelings slide and I can remember why I had so much fun. Why we had so much fun. I could never live there again and I want my dad to leave that place, but that town really is a huge part of what made me become the person I am. Thanks, Mountain View, and no thanks.
In this town, we come and go. Nobody stays forever. It’s a sad but sweet feeling knowing that you only have a few more days until you get to spread your wings and fly.
I live in the small town of Hebron, Nebraska. We have the world’s largest porch swing.
The lights were sparkling and in your eyes I could see the past, present, future, and in that moment I knew it was you. I knew that it would always be you no matter where life takes us. I don’t know much about what is to come except that I want it to be spent together forever and ever. I wish there was a forever.
The town was small, quaint, and dead. There was no life to be seen in any corner of the town. If you listened close enough, you could perhaps hear dogs barking. Children singing. But perhaps it was just your imagination. The town was dead.
i live in the biggest bird-cage of a town. Everything here seems to move in slow motion. Even the ambulances seem to creep along like they have nowhere important to go. I just want to break away from here. There’s always, always someplace better.
There was a town in the middle of Arizona, whom not most of the world knows exists. This town is mainly occupied by drug addicts and drug dealers. It’s own social ecosystem.
the town in which i was born
the town in which i lived
the towns that i have inhabited
all have made me who i am
cross waters
into new unexplored lands
I’d like to go to town. Literally and figuratively. I’d like to get off this campus and go into the city, I’d love to let loose and be free. But I just cannot. I cannot bring myself to lighten up. Every time anything happens I look at it from the worst possible perspective. And yet somehow people call me an optimist. I don’t get it.
My town is called Pittsburgh. I absolutely love it, and though I don’t live there currently, I sincerely miss it nearly every day. Everything about it is wonderful, from the weather (though I don’t like the cold or snow, there it’s tolerable) to the history of the place, and the wonderfully kind, small-town people.
Not everyone wanted to live in the big city. I for one wanted to live in the country. When I moved out of the bustling world and into the clean town air, I didn’t know that this move would mark the beginning of my destiny.
Towns and clowns bound and hound until we are found or drowned.
i lived in a small town for most of my life.
a faded memory swathed in years of simple harmony
an uncomplicated life as thin as the string that bound me to it
only years of sunshine and meadows, living a life of
singular emotions, short and unyielding and gone in a
fleeting second, my heart never full enough to
the brim with emotions scarcely understood,
never had a stream or creek that overflowed,
never took that jump off a risky precipice:
i only knew that life for what it was, simple
and uncluttered and small, and until now
i never knew how sad it really was.
Off to town they went. With hands clenched tightly in each other’s fists, and smiles as wide and bright as a strip of Vegas show clubs. These dames were easy to please, Jack thought. Dinner, dancing, flowers. He chuckled. “This was too easy.”
Townhouses are pretty cool. They’re expensive though. My friend used to say townhouses before she sneezed so she wouldn’t sneeze. They’re always really pretty. Nice windows, but expensive. I want to live in a townhouse in chicago. It’d be pretty kickass, I’d probably share one with haley. we’d have a blue shark in our doorway and have townhouse parties erry night.
There was a small town in the middle of nowhere. The town had small houses, no bigger than a thimble. It was so tiny that the rare traveler didn’t normally see it, but a young boy named Jake was a different story.
I live in a beautiful and quaint little town. I know all the people, and they are quite good to me. I grew up in this town, and I have learned to love it. When the flowers blossom in the spring they are just lovely.
i miss my home town a little bit, but not because of the actual place, i just miss my family and the dogs and my room. and the food, fuckin love the food back home. besides that everything is trillions of times better here.
The towns flew by. Each one had its own little story. Its own history and memories. Past and future. But none of them were my destination. My destination was death and my life a journey.
A small place. I grow up. Knowing everyone, knowing the green grass, and where each prickly ball falls. Knowing where to step, where not to. What to say around what people and what not to. Gossip, flow through the jam packed streets from ear to ear, changing the story.
I live in a small one, where rumors fly like fighter jets and can attack reputations like one too.
downtown music store —
strum a dobro and hear
sunlight rippling off the Mississippi
There once was a town in the middle of the woods. All the people who lived there were unusually happy. I think it was the water or the food because everything tasted sweeter there. The people danced and played and went on like this for years Everyone was a child and no one grew old.
In the little town I live in you don’t do much. You walk around and let the world come and go as you please. You take things easy. With no worries. Life goes on no matter what happens.
As the town approached all he could think about was the endless possibilities that it might hold. Every street something new.
A town is a place, not just a place a collection of people, a collection of people who all have dreams and loves and wants and needs, you live in a town, everyone you know lives in a town, every needs a town and if you don’t have one, i suggest you find one.
In the town lights begin to dim and night begins to awake.In the dimming light stands one man who dares to take on the creatures of the night
Towns are where everyone comes together. Everyone knows everyone. There’s that one ice shop or hang out spot everyone goes to where sometimes a treat will be “on the house”. Towns are small with friendly people.
I have lived all my life here, of all places, in the middle of nowhere. I want to see the world beyond, but uncertainty blocks the way. From now on, I vow to shove doubt aside and move forward.
When we were walking down town to the grocery store, I noticed a man who had a large nose and walked with a limp. We both exchanged glances and simply trotted off.
far from an ease, i find a constant struggle to watch such vicissitude, anger and harm. i come to this town seldom, and never wish to return.
I live in Mandeville, Louisiana. My bffls totes my goats live hurrr
like omg they are
madeline
mckenna
cara
jaelyn
caroline
mason
daniel
rachel
all of these people rock my world homeqirl
like its gay though, this town is filled with whores.
The town said to the other town hey how big are you and the town.
There are lots of towns filled with different kinds of people. I think of everyone knowing everyone in the town they live in. I think of towns being in the middle of nowhere. I think of towns having friendly people.
Everyone wanted out; they thought the town was the problem. But I knew better. They made it miserable and false. Behind the small doors of warm, lit up places, I longed to make an appearance just to let them know that they no loner defined my sense of self. I didn’t though; the car never stopped. It carried me past the laughter and music, and as I heard the voices beside me, I knew they were all I needed even if my strings were still untying themselves someplace else.
theres a place down the street where I not allowed to go. Its the end of our part of the town, and the beginning of theirs. I always was interested by this, to me, it looked very much the same.