I was grateful for the time i had. I only wished i had a little more so that i could say all the things i never said, and do the things i never did. but wished i had. and to tell the woman i loved that i was sorry
Every morning was a gift. Every fresh breath of air, the dew glistening on the grass, the birds twittering in the tree limbs above. To no longer be wracked by the disease–foul, ravaging and wasting as it was–was the sweetest gift ever received. Words could not express how grateful I was to finally be healthy.
I am truly grateful for life. For all that My God has allowed me to achieve. Most importantly the road that I have traveled was never smooth, but I made it nonetheless.
When I glimpsed the sun’s light against her pearl white skin, I was reminded to be thankful.
The way the light gleamed off her long eyelashes burned in my heart, and sang a song in my blood. She was of my blood and flesh, worth more than rubies or gold or any of my ambitions.
My daughter, my angel, may your years be lengthy and filled with joy.
There’s an ugly irony to gratitude.
See, it’s always seemed to me that those of us who are most privileged – the ones who have the most to be grateful for – we tend to be the least grateful ones. And I’ve even been to those slums where there’s a boy just grateful to have a pair of shoes to wear, even if they don’t fit; grateful for a seat in a school a two-hour-walk from home; grateful for breakfast the few days he can have it. And it puts me to shame to admit that I’m less grateful for having so much than he is for having so little.
He looked down at the stone, a small, white, cross, inscribed with his father’s name and the words “From a Grateful Nation”. He cried as he spoke, partially from grief, but moreso from anger. He told his father that his death in Iraq had been a waste, because nothing had changed. His other son would soon be coming back from that same battlefield, to join his father in the soil of his homeland.
I wish I could be more grateful for things around me. I have so many things I should be grateful for but I never seem to actually the grateful. I don’t know why it is. But I should be grateful for the life I have. I have a great mother and father who do what they can to take care of me and the best precious little siblings ever yet all I do is sit inside my room and hide from them. I lock myself up away from everyone. I don’t show anyone how I truly feel. Only few will people will catch a small glimpse of who I truly am. But that is at rare occasions.
As a ghoul, you don’t really believe in any god, or gods. Some ghouls do, but most, like you, do not. There’s something distasteful in thanking a deity before you begin to messily consume a human corpse (Not that you, the Gourmet, are a messy eater).
However, the meal that lies in front of you will likely be the most delectable repast you will ever consume in the entirety of your lifespan.
(You will not cook him as you have others; the flavours in his flesh are subtle and best consumed raw. You wonder if such a sweet taste is typical of half-ghouls, or would Kaneki taste just as wonderful had he been left human?)
And for this, you cannot help but feel truly grateful.
As a ghoul, you don’t really believe in any god, or gods. Some ghouls do, but most, like you, do not. There’s something distasteful in thanking a deity before you begin to messily consume a human corpse (Not that you, the Gourmet, are a messy eater).
However, the meal that lies in front of you will likely be the most delectable repast you will ever consume in the entirety of your lifespan.
(You will not cook him as you have others; the flavours in his flesh are subtle and best consumed raw. You wonder if such a
“Hey, Mitsunari-sama.” The dice he rolls in his palm clink together like river stones in low tide.
“It’s kind of late now, but I wanted to thank you. I really wanted to! Heh, I guess it’s more than kind of late, right?”
He watches Mitsunari’s retreating back, which is too far away now for him to have heard anything. He molds the shape of his dice into his hand, so deep he can feel the indent of four on his skin. Cho.
Sakon breathes in and speeds off. “Hey, Mitsunari-sama!”
I’m terribly grateful for my tea and toast. It’s been a long three weeks of cold/flu/??? symptoms. That’s not very exciting to write about, but it’s true.
I guess I’m one step closer to understanding who I truly love. But, it hurts. It hurts to have to constantly think about this pain. I only *know* I’m closer… I don’t *feel* like I’m closer. When you’re so close… it’s hard to feel grateful.
But, if we’re ever going to survive this mortal coil, we have to learn to be grateful whenever possible.
I’m grateful that I knew you and that I could carry on your legacy of who you are and who to desire to be. I’m grateful even for the flaws that I got from you. I love them and I crave them more than I would like to admit or than others should know. That gratitude scares me sometimes though…I’m already so much like you with the suicide, alcohol and quiet mind I wonder when I’ll call for my own end of time.
He never really thought of Minho as the type of person who would help him out in times of dire need, nor did he percieve the fact that he would allow him to stand on his own two feet again. But he did. And for that he was grateful.
“Not that I’m not grateful for your hospitality, your majesty, bu-”
“There’s no need for such formality,” she interrupted smoothly, “Please, call me Erinya,” And, as she spoke, Claire couldn’t help but find herself charmed by the young queen because her eyes were soft and her voice as kind as her expression could not openly afford to be.
“Erinya,” she said, her lips ghosting over the name that had once been as familiar as her own.
I couldn’t help but be grateful for what he did for me.
I mean, he really saved my life, even if he nearly killed me while doing so. I owe him so much gratitude, if it weren’t for him I would have never met her, and while he saved my life, she made it worth living.
There’s many things to be grateful but one is what I could say that I am grateful for. That is my best friend in the world. I don’t have any exact words to describe the feeling. But for now, I am truly glad. Grateful to be alive, grateful to be who I am today. If it weren’t for him, I don’t know anymore.
The gift, only the best of you, you gave to me. No words to express how grateful I am that this happened, the way that it did. I truly have no regrets. Thank you.
I guess I’m grateful for the life I have, even though it is filled with multitudinous flaws. I’m grateful for friends, even when they betray you or stab you in the back, because the true ones always stick around for the end. Friendship is one of those few things in this world that is infinite. Lastly, I’m grateful for imagination because without it, Earth would be a dull place devoid of light or beauty or creativity or any of those things that make life worth living.
What are the things you are thankful for? Are you grateful you’re alive right at this moment? I hope you are, and that you are happy. You deserve happiness in your life.
I don’t think the word is enough. Nothing will ever be enough. You’ve given me life, happiness, strength, the will to push past my own limitations. When I fell, you reached out your hand and pulled me to my feet. When the pieces of me were scattered, shattered into microscopic, irreparable pieces, you somehow found a way to reassemble me. When I was drowning, you dove right in and took me to shore. How could I ever tell you how grateful I am for you?
The scrape, scrape, scrape of the hard cheese (now sweating under Rosana’s hands, $28.95 a pound at the farmers market, sheep’s milk!) was barely audible over the football game blaring in the next room. The husbands cheered, a beer was overturned, and a fair amount of ribbing and hulabaloo ensued… But the grating filled Rosana’s head.
hold a cup of my spirit up to your lips. sweet, sweet nectar down your throat. grandness is not a feeling, it is a being, and today you are grand. i would have you feel no less. i would have you be no less. wake up, spread your eagle wings like the sun’s rays. i am so proud of you today. today you did not act an angel, and no one called you one. today the feathers fell from your tunic of magnanimousness, and the angels gazed upon you and embraced each other, hoping one day one of them would be great enough to be called you.
I am grateful for so many things. I am grateful my father is still with us — I should call him right now. I am grateful I have managed to live so effectively for so long with probably undiagnosed ADD. ;-) I am grateful for that man sleeping in our bedroom and the cats lazying about in our Arizona Room.
He could never be grateful enough to her simply for her presence beside him. But he became far more grateful when he considered how much help she’d provided otherwise. She’d been there when the entire room had turned itself away and there was nothing she could do.. She would always have some amount of words to make him feel somewhat better, in one way or another.
I’m grateful for the time we spent together. I’m grateful for how unconditional your love was, how easy you were to speak to about any and everything. I’m grateful for you.
“You are the most ungrateful bitch I have ever had the misfortune of speaking to,” he said.
That was incorrect, though. I was grateful, I was very grateful, and I was thanking him for it with every moment I continued to breathe. I had simply never thanked someone for anything before, and I did not know how.
Chalk it up to ingratitude if you must. One of those moments that you’ve forgotten for decades until one day it returns to you – the obstinate childishness of your teenage self at odds with the clueless parent, once a childish teen, chipping away at the strength with which they desperately try to hold it all together.
It is easy to be gratful for the easy things in life. it is difficult to be gratful for the things that we have to work harder for. We appreciate and learn from the hard stuff. If you find your f
What to be grateful for
the broken glass
the shutting door
the screeching chalk that hits the floor
or maybe what your looking for.
To appreciate the lock and gate
the single morsel on your plate
Thats It!
So grateful for all the times you put me down
did you realize that it hurt me
did you think that it shamed me?
I am so thankful that you thought enough to criticize me everyday
and thought to make me go away
So you could live another day
But its okay because I’ll kill myself anyway
and in the end you’ll win
But are you happy at the cost
this game is just too much and I can’t even begin to think
and I can’t even think because now I’m gone
and at the funeral you’ll say
that I was your ‘best friend’ anyway
and only you will know
the reality of the situation.
Was she supposed to be grateful, after all this time? Was she meant to thank him for the efforts he had made? The efforts, namely, to abandon her for the sake of bringing food to the table? What was an extra ham or gallon of ice cream compared to his holding her at night when she cried herself to sleep? Or his smile from behind a newspaper? Or the roughness of his hands as he caressed her cheeks on their wedding night?
I’m so grateful for the things I’ve never had
like a sane mom or a forgiving dad
The relationships that didn’t end bad
or all those days that I wasn’t sad
I am grateful for everything, God has very done fr me and recently he has given me a job and a car and I thank him so much for that because that is truly amazing. He is an answerer of prayers and without I’m I couldn’t be where I am today.
Dead head the mums in the garden. It’s autumn, but they’re grateful for any attentions you’re willing to lavish. A pair of shears, a pair of eyes, reflections tumble over with a snip-snip, drop. This guillotine of a thought, a smile and a nod. Merciful. Yeah, I guess it appears so.
Hazel
You wandered in
Boots at the door
And the heaviness left
When your easiness arrived
I was grateful for the time i had. I only wished i had a little more so that i could say all the things i never said, and do the things i never did. but wished i had. and to tell the woman i loved that i was sorry
done
im grateful I have a good family. they are so nice and caring.
Every morning was a gift. Every fresh breath of air, the dew glistening on the grass, the birds twittering in the tree limbs above. To no longer be wracked by the disease–foul, ravaging and wasting as it was–was the sweetest gift ever received. Words could not express how grateful I was to finally be healthy.
I am truly grateful for life. For all that My God has allowed me to achieve. Most importantly the road that I have traveled was never smooth, but I made it nonetheless.
When I glimpsed the sun’s light against her pearl white skin, I was reminded to be thankful.
The way the light gleamed off her long eyelashes burned in my heart, and sang a song in my blood. She was of my blood and flesh, worth more than rubies or gold or any of my ambitions.
My daughter, my angel, may your years be lengthy and filled with joy.
There’s an ugly irony to gratitude.
See, it’s always seemed to me that those of us who are most privileged – the ones who have the most to be grateful for – we tend to be the least grateful ones. And I’ve even been to those slums where there’s a boy just grateful to have a pair of shoes to wear, even if they don’t fit; grateful for a seat in a school a two-hour-walk from home; grateful for breakfast the few days he can have it. And it puts me to shame to admit that I’m less grateful for having so much than he is for having so little.
He looked down at the stone, a small, white, cross, inscribed with his father’s name and the words “From a Grateful Nation”. He cried as he spoke, partially from grief, but moreso from anger. He told his father that his death in Iraq had been a waste, because nothing had changed. His other son would soon be coming back from that same battlefield, to join his father in the soil of his homeland.
I wish I could be more grateful for things around me. I have so many things I should be grateful for but I never seem to actually the grateful. I don’t know why it is. But I should be grateful for the life I have. I have a great mother and father who do what they can to take care of me and the best precious little siblings ever yet all I do is sit inside my room and hide from them. I lock myself up away from everyone. I don’t show anyone how I truly feel. Only few will people will catch a small glimpse of who I truly am. But that is at rare occasions.
You don’t say grace before meals.
As a ghoul, you don’t really believe in any god, or gods. Some ghouls do, but most, like you, do not. There’s something distasteful in thanking a deity before you begin to messily consume a human corpse (Not that you, the Gourmet, are a messy eater).
However, the meal that lies in front of you will likely be the most delectable repast you will ever consume in the entirety of your lifespan.
(You will not cook him as you have others; the flavours in his flesh are subtle and best consumed raw. You wonder if such a sweet taste is typical of half-ghouls, or would Kaneki taste just as wonderful had he been left human?)
And for this, you cannot help but feel truly grateful.
You don’t say grace before meals.
As a ghoul, you don’t really believe in any god, or gods. Some ghouls do, but most, like you, do not. There’s something distasteful in thanking a deity before you begin to messily consume a human corpse (Not that you, the Gourmet, are a messy eater).
However, the meal that lies in front of you will likely be the most delectable repast you will ever consume in the entirety of your lifespan.
(You will not cook him as you have others; the flavours in his flesh are subtle and best consumed raw. You wonder if such a
“Hey, Mitsunari-sama.” The dice he rolls in his palm clink together like river stones in low tide.
“It’s kind of late now, but I wanted to thank you. I really wanted to! Heh, I guess it’s more than kind of late, right?”
He watches Mitsunari’s retreating back, which is too far away now for him to have heard anything. He molds the shape of his dice into his hand, so deep he can feel the indent of four on his skin. Cho.
Sakon breathes in and speeds off. “Hey, Mitsunari-sama!”
I’m terribly grateful for my tea and toast. It’s been a long three weeks of cold/flu/??? symptoms. That’s not very exciting to write about, but it’s true.
grateful to nature for her compassion
I should be grateful.
I guess I’m one step closer to understanding who I truly love. But, it hurts. It hurts to have to constantly think about this pain. I only *know* I’m closer… I don’t *feel* like I’m closer. When you’re so close… it’s hard to feel grateful.
But, if we’re ever going to survive this mortal coil, we have to learn to be grateful whenever possible.
Thank you.
I’m grateful that I knew you and that I could carry on your legacy of who you are and who to desire to be. I’m grateful even for the flaws that I got from you. I love them and I crave them more than I would like to admit or than others should know. That gratitude scares me sometimes though…I’m already so much like you with the suicide, alcohol and quiet mind I wonder when I’ll call for my own end of time.
He never really thought of Minho as the type of person who would help him out in times of dire need, nor did he percieve the fact that he would allow him to stand on his own two feet again. But he did. And for that he was grateful.
“Not that I’m not grateful for your hospitality, your majesty, bu-”
“There’s no need for such formality,” she interrupted smoothly, “Please, call me Erinya,” And, as she spoke, Claire couldn’t help but find herself charmed by the young queen because her eyes were soft and her voice as kind as her expression could not openly afford to be.
“Erinya,” she said, her lips ghosting over the name that had once been as familiar as her own.
I couldn’t help but be grateful for what he did for me.
I mean, he really saved my life, even if he nearly killed me while doing so. I owe him so much gratitude, if it weren’t for him I would have never met her, and while he saved my life, she made it worth living.
There’s many things to be grateful but one is what I could say that I am grateful for. That is my best friend in the world. I don’t have any exact words to describe the feeling. But for now, I am truly glad. Grateful to be alive, grateful to be who I am today. If it weren’t for him, I don’t know anymore.
The gift, only the best of you, you gave to me. No words to express how grateful I am that this happened, the way that it did. I truly have no regrets. Thank you.
I guess I’m grateful for the life I have, even though it is filled with multitudinous flaws. I’m grateful for friends, even when they betray you or stab you in the back, because the true ones always stick around for the end. Friendship is one of those few things in this world that is infinite. Lastly, I’m grateful for imagination because without it, Earth would be a dull place devoid of light or beauty or creativity or any of those things that make life worth living.
What are the things you are thankful for? Are you grateful you’re alive right at this moment? I hope you are, and that you are happy. You deserve happiness in your life.
I don’t think the word is enough. Nothing will ever be enough. You’ve given me life, happiness, strength, the will to push past my own limitations. When I fell, you reached out your hand and pulled me to my feet. When the pieces of me were scattered, shattered into microscopic, irreparable pieces, you somehow found a way to reassemble me. When I was drowning, you dove right in and took me to shore. How could I ever tell you how grateful I am for you?
The scrape, scrape, scrape of the hard cheese (now sweating under Rosana’s hands, $28.95 a pound at the farmers market, sheep’s milk!) was barely audible over the football game blaring in the next room. The husbands cheered, a beer was overturned, and a fair amount of ribbing and hulabaloo ensued… But the grating filled Rosana’s head.
hold a cup of my spirit up to your lips. sweet, sweet nectar down your throat. grandness is not a feeling, it is a being, and today you are grand. i would have you feel no less. i would have you be no less. wake up, spread your eagle wings like the sun’s rays. i am so proud of you today. today you did not act an angel, and no one called you one. today the feathers fell from your tunic of magnanimousness, and the angels gazed upon you and embraced each other, hoping one day one of them would be great enough to be called you.
I am grateful for so many things. I am grateful my father is still with us — I should call him right now. I am grateful I have managed to live so effectively for so long with probably undiagnosed ADD. ;-) I am grateful for that man sleeping in our bedroom and the cats lazying about in our Arizona Room.
He could never be grateful enough to her simply for her presence beside him. But he became far more grateful when he considered how much help she’d provided otherwise. She’d been there when the entire room had turned itself away and there was nothing she could do.. She would always have some amount of words to make him feel somewhat better, in one way or another.
I’m grateful for the time we spent together. I’m grateful for how unconditional your love was, how easy you were to speak to about any and everything. I’m grateful for you.
“You are the most ungrateful bitch I have ever had the misfortune of speaking to,” he said.
That was incorrect, though. I was grateful, I was very grateful, and I was thanking him for it with every moment I continued to breathe. I had simply never thanked someone for anything before, and I did not know how.
“I don’t mean to be.” I said.
“You are.” He said.
I already knew he thought that, though.
Chalk it up to ingratitude if you must. One of those moments that you’ve forgotten for decades until one day it returns to you – the obstinate childishness of your teenage self at odds with the clueless parent, once a childish teen, chipping away at the strength with which they desperately try to hold it all together.
It is easy to be gratful for the easy things in life. it is difficult to be gratful for the things that we have to work harder for. We appreciate and learn from the hard stuff. If you find your f
What to be grateful for
the broken glass
the shutting door
the screeching chalk that hits the floor
or maybe what your looking for.
To appreciate the lock and gate
the single morsel on your plate
Thats It!
So grateful for all the times you put me down
did you realize that it hurt me
did you think that it shamed me?
I am so thankful that you thought enough to criticize me everyday
and thought to make me go away
So you could live another day
But its okay because I’ll kill myself anyway
and in the end you’ll win
But are you happy at the cost
this game is just too much and I can’t even begin to think
and I can’t even think because now I’m gone
and at the funeral you’ll say
that I was your ‘best friend’ anyway
and only you will know
the reality of the situation.
Was she supposed to be grateful, after all this time? Was she meant to thank him for the efforts he had made? The efforts, namely, to abandon her for the sake of bringing food to the table? What was an extra ham or gallon of ice cream compared to his holding her at night when she cried herself to sleep? Or his smile from behind a newspaper? Or the roughness of his hands as he caressed her cheeks on their wedding night?
I’m so grateful for the things I’ve never had
like a sane mom or a forgiving dad
The relationships that didn’t end bad
or all those days that I wasn’t sad
I am grateful for everything, God has very done fr me and recently he has given me a job and a car and I thank him so much for that because that is truly amazing. He is an answerer of prayers and without I’m I couldn’t be where I am today.
Dead head the mums in the garden. It’s autumn, but they’re grateful for any attentions you’re willing to lavish. A pair of shears, a pair of eyes, reflections tumble over with a snip-snip, drop. This guillotine of a thought, a smile and a nod. Merciful. Yeah, I guess it appears so.