It had only been a few weeks but already she missed him. The ache she felt in her heart was only growing stronger as days went by. How on earth was she suppose to go through an entire year with no word from him?
it will be weeks when i saw you last…a few more weeks before i see you again. but it seems like forever when waiting for your calls in between those weeks…
Time marched on, into weeks and days, blurring into months. Still, that odd, painful litttle emotion lurked deep in the back of her head and heart; craving screaming and fighting. Could it be that she over looked something…or someone?
A length of time. 52 in a year. sounds long, like weeks are something one must endure. the s on the end makes the world less pleasing. monday, tuesday, wendesday, thursday, friday, saturday, sunday.
How many times have you thought, what if i did this or that? you go day by day, week by week, month by month until you realise you cant do anything, LOVE.
it had been weeks since they were last together. a man and his dog, such a bond that could never be broken. It wasn’t long after they were reunited that everything was just as it had been before. but alas, all too soon had they been brought together had they been once more torn asunder. soon though, they will see each other again.
there are weeks when i dont see my mother because of the hours i work and because of school. at times i feel like i dont live with her.. also, there are weeks were i dont see my nieces as well.
it’s been weeks since I’ve had a decent plate of rat livers,’ said Chauncey as his wife served him up a fresh plate of aphids. “Quit your belly-aching,” said Agnes, “Nobody has, ever since the village council hired that stupid piper to escort all the rats away.”
how many weeks are there in a year? 54? is it easier to count down weeks than it is to count down days and months? a quarter of school lasts 10 weeks. 10, 9 ,8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, done.
it’s been seven days, but what is a day? and how do we know we know what a week is when we stop to divide it into things we know nothing about? and maybe that’s the illusion-based nature of time – whether we call it a name or leave it to call us the same, we know nothing of that which we activate/operate ourselves in, like weak fish swimming for weeks in the nothingness of an undefined sea
When I read weeks I think about the number of weeks until a special moment, like christmas, birthdays or the birth of our second child. Weeks is about future and about hope. I like the word :-)
are passing time is slowing october is running in and leaving this is no time for sleep i must rest though forget the times of tomorrow and worry about an upcoming event called today this is it
It was weeks until final exams. However, she started fretting about her studies, worrying whether it was necessary to remember the dates of Qin Shi Huang Di’s death for Asian Studies. And yet again, she could not help but anticipate the weeks as after the last day of exams, there was the frolic. It was what she had longed for. She was sure she had a date and she had the most exquisite dress. She wondered if the white or baby pink rose would go with her midnight black dress.
Weeks and weeks pass, one after the next, unrelenting shadows fading into the night. I feel an urge to make a comment related to a song, but the song slips from my mind as I turn, dusting off a shelf next to the window. It is dark without the streetlamp; the bulb in it decided to explode only a few minutes ago, and my eyes were still adjusting.
i have several weeks left to back to China. And there are so many things that I need to do for preparation. I do not know that I could finish them on time.
It has been weeks since I last saw her. She looked tired, withdrawn. Shadow blemished her otherwise flawless complexion. It was sad to see her vibrant, vivacious personality so faded. My heart ached for her.
I knew in that instant that I had failed her. The weeks that had lapsed between our meeting were more than just the passing of time. They became an unbridgable gulf between us: it was the evidence of my inability to be there for her. I hung my head and said I was sorry. She shook her head.
“I needed the time alone.”
Her words diffused my guilt and suddenly the distance between us vanished. I could be here for her now. The weeks lost vanished. She took my hand and I watched her lips curve up. Tired and withdrawn she still looked, but at peace.
The weeks go by so quickly, fading one into the other. I wonder what the next will bring, or think about the ones past, but do I ever think of this one? I wonder, why do I never live week by week or day by day?
time passes by. incessantly, harmonicly. weeks, days, minutes. years. they all collapse on and upon one and another creating this homogenous entirety we call life… but that i call a lie
Here’s to the weeks we spent together. You’re all my best friends, I can’t imagine spending the best weeks of my life with anyone else. Sure, a week can be a long time, and at times it was long, but when you’re with your best friends, nothing really matters.
“Weeks have gone by, and I haven’t said a word!” “Then who told her, huh!?” “Not me! I told you I would keep your secret, and I would never. Break that promise. Ever.” I looked him hard and cold in the eyes. Tears ran down my face. He knew I spoke the truth. And I saw it on his face.
Weeks– are long, but also short. When I get to the end of them, I have no idea where they went, or where the time has gone, or what I’ve done, and I hope the next week will be more productive and go by less rapidly but am afraid that they’ll always be the same. I can’t tell if that’s normal or if it’s peculiar to my life style, or peculiar to me. I wish I knew. I wish I knew I was living.
there’s not enough time in a week, but at the same time there’s entirely too much time to waste. time to kill, killing for time. every week passes by too slowly and too fast.
for weeks I’ve been trying to figure out what to write in a blog. I have no clue why anyone would want to read anything I have to offer. keep it real, keep it something you know about. Well…I
Weeks, crimony that’s a poor word. What the heck am I to write about here? Well, I suppose I could just describe my morning. Got up, ate my metamucil. Discussed with Mabel the weather. Went down to the storefront and set up shop, but not many customers arrived. Slump’s West Texas BBQ has had a bit of a down time lately, what with the poor economics we are suffering under the current socialism.
there are never enough hours in a day
enough days in a week
enough weeks in a month
enough months in a year
or years in a lifetime
time goes by to quickly
never enough of it to go around
or do all you want or need to do
It had only been a few weeks but already she missed him. The ache she felt in her heart was only growing stronger as days went by. How on earth was she suppose to go through an entire year with no word from him?
I go to school for 3 weeks
Weeks go by and i STAY HERE, JUST FEELING THEIR EFFECT ON MY BODY. fORTUNATELY MY SOUL DOESN’T MIND. oN THE CONTRARY.
These weeks has been the best in my whole life. No school, too much feelings. Te quiero.
Weeks have gone by since Ive seen Charlie. That little Bugger is the brightness that holds my dark life together. I miss my dog.
In two weeks our research paper peer review one is due. It has been nine weeks since our first class meeting. Also, in six weeks we take our final.
I’ve been doing this for some weeks now and I can honestly say I’ve never come across a single word that has inspired even one iota of decent writing.
it will be weeks when i saw you last…a few more weeks before i see you again. but it seems like forever when waiting for your calls in between those weeks…
Weeks went by and nothing was better. She woke up in misery. It was her own fault, she knew. She couldn’t overcome. She felt helpless.
Time marched on, into weeks and days, blurring into months. Still, that odd, painful litttle emotion lurked deep in the back of her head and heart; craving screaming and fighting. Could it be that she over looked something…or someone?
The weeks roll on and on, they always seem to be gone as soon as they come.
A length of time. 52 in a year. sounds long, like weeks are something one must endure. the s on the end makes the world less pleasing. monday, tuesday, wendesday, thursday, friday, saturday, sunday.
How many times have you thought, what if i did this or that? you go day by day, week by week, month by month until you realise you cant do anything, LOVE.
it had been weeks since they were last together. a man and his dog, such a bond that could never be broken. It wasn’t long after they were reunited that everything was just as it had been before. but alas, all too soon had they been brought together had they been once more torn asunder. soon though, they will see each other again.
there are weeks when i dont see my mother because of the hours i work and because of school. at times i feel like i dont live with her.. also, there are weeks were i dont see my nieces as well.
it’s been weeks since I’ve had a decent plate of rat livers,’ said Chauncey as his wife served him up a fresh plate of aphids. “Quit your belly-aching,” said Agnes, “Nobody has, ever since the village council hired that stupid piper to escort all the rats away.”
how many weeks are there in a year? 54? is it easier to count down weeks than it is to count down days and months? a quarter of school lasts 10 weeks. 10, 9 ,8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, done.
it’s been seven days, but what is a day? and how do we know we know what a week is when we stop to divide it into things we know nothing about? and maybe that’s the illusion-based nature of time – whether we call it a name or leave it to call us the same, we know nothing of that which we activate/operate ourselves in, like weak fish swimming for weeks in the nothingness of an undefined sea
When I read weeks I think about the number of weeks until a special moment, like christmas, birthdays or the birth of our second child. Weeks is about future and about hope. I like the word :-)
are passing time is slowing october is running in and leaving this is no time for sleep i must rest though forget the times of tomorrow and worry about an upcoming event called today this is it
many, 52, going by quickly, some better than others, best ones are when on holidays, the working week kinda sucks, weekends are much bet
It was weeks until final exams. However, she started fretting about her studies, worrying whether it was necessary to remember the dates of Qin Shi Huang Di’s death for Asian Studies. And yet again, she could not help but anticipate the weeks as after the last day of exams, there was the frolic. It was what she had longed for. She was sure she had a date and she had the most exquisite dress. She wondered if the white or baby pink rose would go with her midnight black dress.
Weeks and weeks pass, one after the next, unrelenting shadows fading into the night. I feel an urge to make a comment related to a song, but the song slips from my mind as I turn, dusting off a shelf next to the window. It is dark without the streetlamp; the bulb in it decided to explode only a few minutes ago, and my eyes were still adjusting.
i have several weeks left to back to China. And there are so many things that I need to do for preparation. I do not know that I could finish them on time.
there are many weeks in the year. it takes weeks for him to recover from his accident.
It has been weeks since I last saw her. She looked tired, withdrawn. Shadow blemished her otherwise flawless complexion. It was sad to see her vibrant, vivacious personality so faded. My heart ached for her.
I knew in that instant that I had failed her. The weeks that had lapsed between our meeting were more than just the passing of time. They became an unbridgable gulf between us: it was the evidence of my inability to be there for her. I hung my head and said I was sorry. She shook her head.
“I needed the time alone.”
Her words diffused my guilt and suddenly the distance between us vanished. I could be here for her now. The weeks lost vanished. She took my hand and I watched her lips curve up. Tired and withdrawn she still looked, but at peace.
Häsch gärn Weggli?
Weggli sind chliini Brötli,
…
Met Weggli gweckt werdä.
Saugut.
Ond än Cafi dezue.
The weeks go by so quickly, fading one into the other. I wonder what the next will bring, or think about the ones past, but do I ever think of this one? I wonder, why do I never live week by week or day by day?
time passes by. incessantly, harmonicly. weeks, days, minutes. years. they all collapse on and upon one and another creating this homogenous entirety we call life… but that i call a lie
Here’s to the weeks we spent together. You’re all my best friends, I can’t imagine spending the best weeks of my life with anyone else. Sure, a week can be a long time, and at times it was long, but when you’re with your best friends, nothing really matters.
It was four weeks in the making. Possibly the best four weeks of my life. Week one was the investigation. Week two the the intervention.
It had been weeks since I saw her. I waited anxiously at the station for her to arrive. (Who travels by train any more?)
“Weeks have gone by, and I haven’t said a word!” “Then who told her, huh!?” “Not me! I told you I would keep your secret, and I would never. Break that promise. Ever.” I looked him hard and cold in the eyes. Tears ran down my face. He knew I spoke the truth. And I saw it on his face.
Been weeks since you said
“Baby, oh baby, I love you ’cause you mine.”
Been days since you told me
I light up your world because
I AM
Your world.
Thanks for the love,
Ma’!
Weeks– are long, but also short. When I get to the end of them, I have no idea where they went, or where the time has gone, or what I’ve done, and I hope the next week will be more productive and go by less rapidly but am afraid that they’ll always be the same. I can’t tell if that’s normal or if it’s peculiar to my life style, or peculiar to me. I wish I knew. I wish I knew I was living.
there’s not enough time in a week, but at the same time there’s entirely too much time to waste. time to kill, killing for time. every week passes by too slowly and too fast.
Like time in strides.
weeks far and wide.
reminds me of places i haven’t been
and will never see again
for weeks I’ve been trying to figure out what to write in a blog. I have no clue why anyone would want to read anything I have to offer. keep it real, keep it something you know about. Well…I
Weeks, crimony that’s a poor word. What the heck am I to write about here? Well, I suppose I could just describe my morning. Got up, ate my metamucil. Discussed with Mabel the weather. Went down to the storefront and set up shop, but not many customers arrived. Slump’s West Texas BBQ has had a bit of a down time lately, what with the poor economics we are suffering under the current socialism.
there are never enough hours in a day
enough days in a week
enough weeks in a month
enough months in a year
or years in a lifetime
time goes by to quickly
never enough of it to go around
or do all you want or need to do