She knew she needed transition in order to grow into the woman she knew she could become. It would take her concentration as well as her dedication and love for herself.
… Holding a tranny’s hand on the subway. Eating an orange Popsicle while the air is hot like waves coming up like animal heat in waves and wiggles. Prodding, poking, provoking and soaking me clear and completely. …
Holding a tranny’s hand on the subway. Eating an orange Popsicle while the air is hot like waves coming up like animal heat in waves and wiggles. Prodding, poking, provoking and soaking me clear and completelyA.
I’ve moved from this place three times already. I keep coming back not knowing what I will find waiting for me. Last time it was the carcass of my former self and now I expect to find the aftermath of what my family has done to one another.
I settled onto the train hoping to find myself in a new place by tomorrow. As I opened my drowsy eyes, I wondered how day could look so different from night. The passing city lights were so bright. The lights were striking compared to the dark nights of the mountains. Looking around the car, I knew none of the faces, where they came from, or where they were headed.
There was nothing quite like the transition of winter to spring. It always happened so subtle. One day you were looking at dead trees, their branches like skeletons stark against a dreary sky. Then they were budding, the tiny little balls of hope reaching for the sun now consistently in the sky.
The process of change from one form or place to another. A transition may be from child to adult, learner to master, fool to enlightened. Some transitions are more positive than others, diet is an example. If someone drops healthy food for big dirty kebabs etc they will have made a bad transition.
A grain tumbles out of the glass followed by another and another very precipitously, even as each suspends in the air if only for a moment, and goes on and on like this as the grandfather clock at the end of the hall creaks, the chain drops a half an inch. The chimes announce it is 3 a.m. Tis the “All Souls” hour. A fine mist spills into the scene curling against the windows – it’s as fine as webs made of silken filaments. It absorbs moonbeams and devours stars.
“Let me in my love, I’ve come home,” The spirit begs. Its whispers become a chorus of moth’s wings beating against the windowpanes, “I return for you and you alone.”
I fell beneath the waves of the inner earth …
Life was a transition from dark to ever darker ..
Until my eyes opened upon the hook
Finding my name not in that book
I laughed, I cried…
I’m not dead after all
the transition was difficult. I was so used to having someone to hold. Having someone to talk to was the only thing that was keeping me sane. It kept me from completely losing touch with reality.
Ushio was having issues making a transition from police officer to regular citizen who needs to talk to a younger male about the stupid decisions in his life, bt it was hard. The only relationship between him and Yusei had always been officer to law breaker.
He snorter and brought the waters out. What ind of man was he if he couldn’t do something other people apparently did all the time?
This is a terrible transition into what I wished wouldn’t have happened. I spent a lot of time hoping I wouldn’t end up back here again, but I always do. This time, I’ve alienated myself, and now I have no one to turn to. This isn’t what I am. I’ve become someone who’ll die miserably on his own. Maybe at his own will, at his own doing. I am slowly dying. I am slowly trying to die.
The transition of the crystals from one state to another transfixed him..he was enchanted by the sight. The portal to the wonderland slowly opened and in it he could see the vast spaces of
it was such a transition yo adjust but that didn’t mean i wasn’t trying. It’s hard to think about anything when your mind is drugged but it has to be that change from being sad and depressed to being euphoric.
Transitions are hard. There is so much uncertainty. Who can know what is around the corner? Who even wants to? Sometimes ignorance is surely bliss. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself and have to peek anyway. But change? That’s hard too. Where does the strength come from? Where will the courage come from? Transition seems easily, effortless. But it is not. It requires a focus.
Transitions are always difficult, but they can also be enjoyable if you’re knitting with a gradient pack and you just start to switch the colors every couple rows. Also, the thing you do with fair isle and speckles that get more and more gradual is very fun. But real life transitions can be difficult, which is why some people knit, I suppose. I guess transitions just depend on what they’re transitioning.
The new settlers handled the transition well. They were glad of the room to move around, after two years spent cramped on the ship, and grew accustomed to their new tasks quickly, completing most of the expanded colony’s facilities ahead of schedule. Morris was now in charge of construction of the water facility, ensuing a clean and constant supply to the whole colony. And his evenings were spent with a young lady he had met here, a doctor by the name of Clara.
Transition means going from one place to another, it means the place in between. It is both a place and a place between two places. Theoretically, every place is a transition, because you can always be sure to find two other places between them.
It wasn’t the transition itself that was so hard, she was used to the new house, and new teachers. She didn’t care about changing her alias or her clothes or shoes. Even if sometimes she missed those things… especially her Converse…
It was the transition of friends that hurt. Because after awhile, you don’t want to make friends anymore, it just hurts to much to get to know someone, and then leave them… Especially when you could never even tell them- who you really were.
The transition was hard at first, but the remembrance of their love made the new married life not that hard. She was well educated in the ways of keeping house and he had a wonderful job. Even though they were young, they still knew it was God’s plan for their lives and rejoiced in the thought of what God was going to do in the future.
Transitioning into the bold
The sleek, the broad,
Intense
Stares
Directed toward me,
Care a little,
Stop caring when
You look at me
Like I’m pretty,
No one else matters
Now.
I looked in the mirror and, for the first time ever, I liked what I saw. This was me, a young woman in high heels, with feminine features and a nice figure. I was on the verge of tears. It had taken me so long to get to this point; the point where I like myself. It was worth it, all worth it.
Melody’s mind was in a constant state of transition. Like a butterfly, it flitted from one thought to another, never lingering on one for more than a moment. Some called her crazy. The doctors and teachers called it ADHD. Her father thought it was a result of all the “damned technology these days.” But Melody’s mother saw a different side. She saw her daughter’s genius; her gift. Not everyone could look at an object, a person, a situation accurately from every angle in a moment.
Change. It’s changing and I don’t like it because there is nothing I can do and no one is telling me why or how or what the hell is going on. Someone help me. I can’t breath. I can’t do this, my chest hurts. Please someone! Anyone? Hel-
She knew she needed transition in order to grow into the woman she knew she could become. It would take her concentration as well as her dedication and love for herself.
… Holding a tranny’s hand on the subway. Eating an orange Popsicle while the air is hot like waves coming up like animal heat in waves and wiggles. Prodding, poking, provoking and soaking me clear and completely. …
Holding a tranny’s hand on the subway. Eating an orange Popsicle while the air is hot like waves coming up like animal heat in waves and wiggles. Prodding, poking, provoking and soaking me clear and completelyA.
I’ve moved from this place three times already. I keep coming back not knowing what I will find waiting for me. Last time it was the carcass of my former self and now I expect to find the aftermath of what my family has done to one another.
Lonely little caterpillar sitting on a leaf
How does he see the world at large
How does he eat a peach
The rain will fall and the wind will screech
But this lonely little caterpillar will make this peach a feast
I settled onto the train hoping to find myself in a new place by tomorrow. As I opened my drowsy eyes, I wondered how day could look so different from night. The passing city lights were so bright. The lights were striking compared to the dark nights of the mountains. Looking around the car, I knew none of the faces, where they came from, or where they were headed.
There was nothing quite like the transition of winter to spring. It always happened so subtle. One day you were looking at dead trees, their branches like skeletons stark against a dreary sky. Then they were budding, the tiny little balls of hope reaching for the sun now consistently in the sky.
The process of change from one form or place to another. A transition may be from child to adult, learner to master, fool to enlightened. Some transitions are more positive than others, diet is an example. If someone drops healthy food for big dirty kebabs etc they will have made a bad transition.
we all gotta go and a real person will pick the time they do. all you have to do with the time you are given is to choose. @glrdg
A grain tumbles out of the glass followed by another and another very precipitously, even as each suspends in the air if only for a moment, and goes on and on like this as the grandfather clock at the end of the hall creaks, the chain drops a half an inch. The chimes announce it is 3 a.m. Tis the “All Souls” hour. A fine mist spills into the scene curling against the windows – it’s as fine as webs made of silken filaments. It absorbs moonbeams and devours stars.
“Let me in my love, I’ve come home,” The spirit begs. Its whispers become a chorus of moth’s wings beating against the windowpanes, “I return for you and you alone.”
It’s between the walls transparent keen
moving in and out of silence
composed of forces unseen
I fell beneath the waves of the inner earth …
Life was a transition from dark to ever darker ..
Until my eyes opened upon the hook
Finding my name not in that book
I laughed, I cried…
I’m not dead after all
the transition was difficult. I was so used to having someone to hold. Having someone to talk to was the only thing that was keeping me sane. It kept me from completely losing touch with reality.
Ushio was having issues making a transition from police officer to regular citizen who needs to talk to a younger male about the stupid decisions in his life, bt it was hard. The only relationship between him and Yusei had always been officer to law breaker.
He snorter and brought the waters out. What ind of man was he if he couldn’t do something other people apparently did all the time?
This is a terrible transition into what I wished wouldn’t have happened. I spent a lot of time hoping I wouldn’t end up back here again, but I always do. This time, I’ve alienated myself, and now I have no one to turn to. This isn’t what I am. I’ve become someone who’ll die miserably on his own. Maybe at his own will, at his own doing. I am slowly dying. I am slowly trying to die.
The transition of the crystals from one state to another transfixed him..he was enchanted by the sight. The portal to the wonderland slowly opened and in it he could see the vast spaces of
it was such a transition yo adjust but that didn’t mean i wasn’t trying. It’s hard to think about anything when your mind is drugged but it has to be that change from being sad and depressed to being euphoric.
Transitions are hard. There is so much uncertainty. Who can know what is around the corner? Who even wants to? Sometimes ignorance is surely bliss. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself and have to peek anyway. But change? That’s hard too. Where does the strength come from? Where will the courage come from? Transition seems easily, effortless. But it is not. It requires a focus.
Transitions are always difficult, but they can also be enjoyable if you’re knitting with a gradient pack and you just start to switch the colors every couple rows. Also, the thing you do with fair isle and speckles that get more and more gradual is very fun. But real life transitions can be difficult, which is why some people knit, I suppose. I guess transitions just depend on what they’re transitioning.
The new settlers handled the transition well. They were glad of the room to move around, after two years spent cramped on the ship, and grew accustomed to their new tasks quickly, completing most of the expanded colony’s facilities ahead of schedule. Morris was now in charge of construction of the water facility, ensuing a clean and constant supply to the whole colony. And his evenings were spent with a young lady he had met here, a doctor by the name of Clara.
Transition means going from one place to another, it means the place in between. It is both a place and a place between two places. Theoretically, every place is a transition, because you can always be sure to find two other places between them.
I’m floating between you and me
and I can’t decide which one to keep
Mary saw through the train window that ahead the rolling pastures abruptly have way to dark, shady trees. Mostly pine.
Was it still a forest, she wondered, if roads and railroad tracks cut through it?
The light that reached them from between the trees was different.
It wasn’t the transition itself that was so hard, she was used to the new house, and new teachers. She didn’t care about changing her alias or her clothes or shoes. Even if sometimes she missed those things… especially her Converse…
It was the transition of friends that hurt. Because after awhile, you don’t want to make friends anymore, it just hurts to much to get to know someone, and then leave them… Especially when you could never even tell them- who you really were.
The transition was hard at first, but the remembrance of their love made the new married life not that hard. She was well educated in the ways of keeping house and he had a wonderful job. Even though they were young, they still knew it was God’s plan for their lives and rejoiced in the thought of what God was going to do in the future.
Transitioning into the bold
The sleek, the broad,
Intense
Stares
Directed toward me,
Care a little,
Stop caring when
You look at me
Like I’m pretty,
No one else matters
Now.
I looked in the mirror and, for the first time ever, I liked what I saw. This was me, a young woman in high heels, with feminine features and a nice figure. I was on the verge of tears. It had taken me so long to get to this point; the point where I like myself. It was worth it, all worth it.
Melody’s mind was in a constant state of transition. Like a butterfly, it flitted from one thought to another, never lingering on one for more than a moment. Some called her crazy. The doctors and teachers called it ADHD. Her father thought it was a result of all the “damned technology these days.” But Melody’s mother saw a different side. She saw her daughter’s genius; her gift. Not everyone could look at an object, a person, a situation accurately from every angle in a moment.
“How’s her transition going?”
I looked up. “Whose transition?”
My mother was staring at me. “Sam’s. You told me she was transitioning. She’s transitioning, right?”
“Um. Yes.” I stared at the floor. “He’d appreciate it if you used the correct pronouns, though.”
I could see the color creep up in my mother’s cheeks. But I wouldn’t back down. Not when it came to my husband, anyway.
Change. It’s changing and I don’t like it because there is nothing I can do and no one is telling me why or how or what the hell is going on. Someone help me. I can’t breath. I can’t do this, my chest hurts. Please someone! Anyone? Hel-