There was a clue about their location as soon as they opened the door and looked around curiously; there was a pale blue napkin with the name of a restaurant scrawled in golden print on a corner; they were home even if they didn’t realize it.
Clueless, I didn’t know what to say. His eyes were blank and his lips quivered at the end of his words. “What just happened?” I asked… but maybe I didn’t say it out loud. Maybe I said it with my eyes. His face flushed the color of candy hearts and his fingers gripped mine tightly and hopefully as if to tell me “I’m never letting go.”
The steps great men have taken before you, their footprints are still visible in the sand if you look closely enough. All the heroes, lords and kings of the world have not faded into the darkness but are there, right now, watching over you. The clue is follow your destiny. The secret is, destiny is yours to make.
“Just get a clue!” she screams, voice screeching high and cracking. A flash of red as she whips around, hair flying, stalking out the door with tears in her eyes. He stares after her, speechless. He knows he should feel guilt, regret, hurt, something…but all he can feel is unrepentant joy in knowing that she cares.
a game i used to love…a game that used to give me a way to imagine i was something of a spy…i used to play that game like it was my job…it was my childhood…clue…a game of chance…a game of spies…a game of mystery…a game of my life…
Get a clue man. Why do you torture me? Do you like me? What’s your problem? Hey! If you were actually nice to me I might be nice to you… Oh wait I already am. Sigh. The curse of being nice. Get a clue man.
I don’t know what’s going on. It’s going to be insignificant in the end, I suppose. I want to answer these questions, but I haven’t a clue as to where to begin. Or even who to begin with. There’s going to be a beginning, and a middle, and an end, and there’s a story in here somewhere, but when I find it I’ll be the first – maybe the second – to let you know. It’s happening, now all at once, and then there will be chaos. Oh yes. Chaos.
Sometimes I have no freggin CLUE what I am doing here. What I am doing in my life, in my work, in my world, as a mother, lover, friend. But then I think will that’s what its all about isn’t it…getting a clue. That’s what life is all about paying attention to the clues that will lead you to your greatest truth.
I have no clue where tomorrow’s clothes are. maybe they are in the laundry. Maybe they are in the hamper. Maybe, just maybe, they will appear in my room tomorrow morning. At last, no such luck. It looks like i will need to go on the hunt for my clothes. No clue!
I’ve always loved Sherlock Holmes. I would walk around as a kid and play out the mysteries in my head. I talked to myself a lot back then. My mom thought it was cute. I was just a lonely kid trying to keep myself entertained.
The reason Mark couldn’t get the engine to tick over was due more to his lack of charm than his lack of mechanical know how. If he had been nicer to the lady at the scrap yard she might have given him the right part. Instead she had purposely given herself extra work to find the most useless carburetor, the one with the large crack in it, which she had covered with a finger of grease. She then charged him three times the price she charged anyone else which he paid with an ostentatious handful of bills.
The sad part was she knew he wouldn’t have a clue. About anything. Ever. The dipstick.
Maria looked around the room in the hopes something would at least give her a clue as to what happened here. She ran her hand through her hair as her eyes took in the broken plates splattered with blood, that lay strewn across the floor. Among the debris something bright sparkled in a shaft of light. As she reached towards it, a long silver tongue flicked out.
I have no clue of what is going on in my life right now. Absolutely no directions.
I’m like a lost soul who wants to be found, in the hands of people who care.
This can’t go on forever. I have to find my own way.
I can usually smell her wafting down the hall long before she even enters my line of vision. Her liberal amount of perfume smells of inadequacy. Eyelinered rings meant to make her eyes stand out only make them look more small and calculating. Unnatural red paches are painted on her cheeks to hide her ashy complexion much in the same way her vapid smile and two-dimensional personality try to hide her insecurites.Teeth are fakely white; hair is ironed into submission.
There’s absolutely nothing more to her than what is apparent.
I hope for her own sake that someday, she’ll get a clue. She’s not fooling anyone.
…Still, I want to know how she manages to thrive this way.
Someday, she will finally catch up to that long-awaited clue. The final piece of the puzzle will fall into place, every peculiar thing that ever made her wonder will finally make sense, and her new found understanding will make her see things she never bothered to notice before.
the clue was so unclear, yet blatantly obvious. throwing them off their tracks, they place it among the puzzle of the case of her death. the silver locket was as metallic as ever, however the picture had been removed. why, if she had been the only care taker of the jewelry and dead for 2 years, was it clean? and worse yet… how had it resurfaced from the neck of her corpse under the cold dirt of Death Yard?
It’s always the wrench in the end; wrench in the works, wrench in the pits, wrench in the parlour. After the party, after the death; everything turns up all carbon and cocktails and feet peeking under the sofa.
I moseyed through the halls. Nary a care in the world. Four murders in two days. We had a serial killer on our hands The one thing I was lacking however, was a clue. No body, no blood, just the decomposing brain of his latest victim set a glow in the light of day of some family locale. A Violent display for the masses.
This would be be and you
I wouldn’t hesitate
I wouldn’t doubt the decision I’d make
Your love is my fate
Then none of my life
Has been a mistake
just a winding road to your arms
You look down and spot nothing. Everything seems too still, too natural. You look closer and a hint of red catches your eye. Whatever it is you know you have something to find.
clue
what’s a clue
where?
can I just
buy one?
how much do they run for?
can I get
a clue for school
for friends?
can I give my girlfriend one?
can I save it in a diary?
what’s a
clue?
i never asked for us to meet again. i remember the night when it finally… i don’t know, when i finally realized that id never had that passionate intense feeling ever again. or that i had lost it anyway. i didn’t believe in love, and im not sure i do now, not that gushy romantic drama anyway. for families, God yeah, i get it. but this, this is just stupid. i cried that night. and for what? the guy that i no longer knew…. although i wanted it more than anything, although i begged for it, looked at the sky and asked God what if you were thinking of me too. it was stupid. and so pathetic. i mean who does that?
and here i am thinking of you. the way you smiled, the way … God, I sound like a paragraph from twilight. nvm. i just wanted to say. that no, i don’t feel the same way, and im sure you don’t either. but the history is glaring me in the eyes, boring into my back, slamming into my side…. waiting for me to open that chapter again. but i know it was naive and just a fantasy. i mean in reality? we couldn’t be together. two completely different groups… well, at least at the apex of the day. at night, i know you;ll be where you’re always at. at night you probably have to guess where I am at.. I’ve always bin a mystery to you haven’t I? well… i don’t know. I like that. But i can’t say im not holding my feet from going there. from meeting you and actually saying hi since… what? has it been 3 years?you do look a little different…. can’t say you look worse, though. you got your preferred out of the probable.
for this second, ill pretend like it was yesterday, and i didn’t pass by you today, that we didn’t stare. that you didn’t stop mid way in conversation and ask: hey… don’t i know you? and well, like the classic cheesy movies ill answer: no. you never did. but im not sure, you might have known me better than now… but well enough. but that’s lame. i don’t want the irrational mutual feeling of love to engulf me and swallow me up whole.
idontwantit.
you know what? ill go see you. tonight. hopefully u ARE at where i think you are. cause if you’re not…. well, let’s just say that would bring me back to square one, and drop me to rock bottom. i would loose the will to bother. i would continue to ignore, and avoid. but no flirting i promise. just want to talk, to say hi… and may be figure out why…
Thet are so amazing. Its like the door to anything. Like love, mystery, hope, ect. Ot can mean the world. Who youre going to marry. Love. Save you. Like the fish in the pond. It completes the picture, like you and me.
The cards were worn, and the game was beloved. We would play it a lot. I figure all married couples do. However, I was always the culprit. The game was just guessing what I altered and where the horrid act took place. I have grown accustom to tip toeing about and quickly scanning each room to cover my bases. “Sweetheart, were you with your best friend in the study again?” Caught. Next time I will just have to bury my tracks. He is always at an advantage anyway, knowing that it will always be my fault.
clue
I have no
clue
what to write
what to think
I have no clue, my dear
don’t ask me
I’m as lost as you are
I can offer myself
my words
without a clue,
lost.
I’m lost.
We’ll be lost
together?
I had a clue once she sat down at the table. Her lack of acknowledgment to anything I said immediately deterred my efforts. I simply got up, and as any reasonable individual would do, flipped the table onto her silky white dress and walked away.
Give me a clue
Give me a clue about how to live this life. I have tried and now I am aware that the years have spun by. I wonder if I have done it right or enough and how to change that. Give me a clue about the purpose. Give me a clue about what is the best path to take. Give me a clue about what it means to be the best, to do the best.
“Do you have a clue?” the note read. A clue. Hm. Well, I got roses, a stuffed animal, and several other notes from the person. A clue.
Obviously. I know who it is. It had to be.
“Jason!” I yelled out from the middle of the halls. A melancholy pale face appeared from a throng of people passing notes and roses. He scanned the area for a moment before a smile lit up those sad, silver eyes. I rushed over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, planting a kiss upon his cheek.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he cooed.
clueless. the game clu. candlestick. conservatory. guessing. i will not edit this. alicia sliverstone. mom was a cool mom for letting me watch that. rhymes with blue. sounds so pretty. could be a name. what i search for
Not like Private Investigator Stewart had a clue what was going on. But his client was passed out on the floor, one shoe scuffed and separated from its foot.
get a clue you goshdarn ahole you really are the biggest jerk who ive ever really spent time with and i just cant even believe i let that stuff happen but youre a manipulative jerk and you can just go to heck okay because youre not a ‘nice guy’ like you so claim to be and thus you will never get a nice girl especially not me so yeah you lost me sucks for you jerk!!!
There was a clue about their location as soon as they opened the door and looked around curiously; there was a pale blue napkin with the name of a restaurant scrawled in golden print on a corner; they were home even if they didn’t realize it.
Clueless, I didn’t know what to say. His eyes were blank and his lips quivered at the end of his words. “What just happened?” I asked… but maybe I didn’t say it out loud. Maybe I said it with my eyes. His face flushed the color of candy hearts and his fingers gripped mine tightly and hopefully as if to tell me “I’m never letting go.”
The steps great men have taken before you, their footprints are still visible in the sand if you look closely enough. All the heroes, lords and kings of the world have not faded into the darkness but are there, right now, watching over you. The clue is follow your destiny. The secret is, destiny is yours to make.
“Just get a clue!” she screams, voice screeching high and cracking. A flash of red as she whips around, hair flying, stalking out the door with tears in her eyes. He stares after her, speechless. He knows he should feel guilt, regret, hurt, something…but all he can feel is unrepentant joy in knowing that she cares.
a game i used to love…a game that used to give me a way to imagine i was something of a spy…i used to play that game like it was my job…it was my childhood…clue…a game of chance…a game of spies…a game of mystery…a game of my life…
All clues will lead you somewhere, even if it’s not where you were planning. The slightest clue will still take you somewhere.
Get a clue man. Why do you torture me? Do you like me? What’s your problem? Hey! If you were actually nice to me I might be nice to you… Oh wait I already am. Sigh. The curse of being nice. Get a clue man.
I don’t know what’s going on. It’s going to be insignificant in the end, I suppose. I want to answer these questions, but I haven’t a clue as to where to begin. Or even who to begin with. There’s going to be a beginning, and a middle, and an end, and there’s a story in here somewhere, but when I find it I’ll be the first – maybe the second – to let you know. It’s happening, now all at once, and then there will be chaos. Oh yes. Chaos.
Sometimes I have no freggin CLUE what I am doing here. What I am doing in my life, in my work, in my world, as a mother, lover, friend. But then I think will that’s what its all about isn’t it…getting a clue. That’s what life is all about paying attention to the clues that will lead you to your greatest truth.
i haven’t got a clue
as to how this life
is supposed to play out
i do know
that i’m really tired, though
of trying to figure it out
I have no clue where tomorrow’s clothes are. maybe they are in the laundry. Maybe they are in the hamper. Maybe, just maybe, they will appear in my room tomorrow morning. At last, no such luck. It looks like i will need to go on the hunt for my clothes. No clue!
I’ve always loved Sherlock Holmes. I would walk around as a kid and play out the mysteries in my head. I talked to myself a lot back then. My mom thought it was cute. I was just a lonely kid trying to keep myself entertained.
The reason Mark couldn’t get the engine to tick over was due more to his lack of charm than his lack of mechanical know how. If he had been nicer to the lady at the scrap yard she might have given him the right part. Instead she had purposely given herself extra work to find the most useless carburetor, the one with the large crack in it, which she had covered with a finger of grease. She then charged him three times the price she charged anyone else which he paid with an ostentatious handful of bills.
The sad part was she knew he wouldn’t have a clue. About anything. Ever. The dipstick.
Maria looked around the room in the hopes something would at least give her a clue as to what happened here. She ran her hand through her hair as her eyes took in the broken plates splattered with blood, that lay strewn across the floor. Among the debris something bright sparkled in a shaft of light. As she reached towards it, a long silver tongue flicked out.
I have no clue. My brain seems to be functioning at a minimal level. Shut down. Out of the loop. Cut off from the rest of my body.
You would think that the last session would have been a clue. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.
God, I wish I had a clue to figuring everything out.
I have no clue of what is going on in my life right now. Absolutely no directions.
I’m like a lost soul who wants to be found, in the hands of people who care.
This can’t go on forever. I have to find my own way.
I like to pretend I dont have a clue. But I do oh yes I do. I like to pretend I dont know. But I know, I know…
I can usually smell her wafting down the hall long before she even enters my line of vision. Her liberal amount of perfume smells of inadequacy. Eyelinered rings meant to make her eyes stand out only make them look more small and calculating. Unnatural red paches are painted on her cheeks to hide her ashy complexion much in the same way her vapid smile and two-dimensional personality try to hide her insecurites.Teeth are fakely white; hair is ironed into submission.
There’s absolutely nothing more to her than what is apparent.
I hope for her own sake that someday, she’ll get a clue. She’s not fooling anyone.
…Still, I want to know how she manages to thrive this way.
Someday, she will finally catch up to that long-awaited clue. The final piece of the puzzle will fall into place, every peculiar thing that ever made her wonder will finally make sense, and her new found understanding will make her see things she never bothered to notice before.
Especially the things she did not want to see.
the clue was so unclear, yet blatantly obvious. throwing them off their tracks, they place it among the puzzle of the case of her death. the silver locket was as metallic as ever, however the picture had been removed. why, if she had been the only care taker of the jewelry and dead for 2 years, was it clean? and worse yet… how had it resurfaced from the neck of her corpse under the cold dirt of Death Yard?
pick a word,
make it two,
might i suggest
requesting a clue!
Was it the cook?
the butler, or ma souse?
It’s always the wrench in the end; wrench in the works, wrench in the pits, wrench in the parlour. After the party, after the death; everything turns up all carbon and cocktails and feet peeking under the sofa.
i have no
I moseyed through the halls. Nary a care in the world. Four murders in two days. We had a serial killer on our hands The one thing I was lacking however, was a clue. No body, no blood, just the decomposing brain of his latest victim set a glow in the light of day of some family locale. A Violent display for the masses.
If I had a clue
This would be be and you
I wouldn’t hesitate
I wouldn’t doubt the decision I’d make
Your love is my fate
Then none of my life
Has been a mistake
just a winding road to your arms
You look down and spot nothing. Everything seems too still, too natural. You look closer and a hint of red catches your eye. Whatever it is you know you have something to find.
I have a clue
that maybe one day
I will be that girl
that everyone admires
who everyone is jealous of
I used to be that girl
but not anymore
maybe, maybe
I have a clue
but perhaps I’m being selfish.
clue
what’s a clue
where?
can I just
buy one?
how much do they run for?
can I get
a clue for school
for friends?
can I give my girlfriend one?
can I save it in a diary?
what’s a
clue?
i never asked for us to meet again. i remember the night when it finally… i don’t know, when i finally realized that id never had that passionate intense feeling ever again. or that i had lost it anyway. i didn’t believe in love, and im not sure i do now, not that gushy romantic drama anyway. for families, God yeah, i get it. but this, this is just stupid. i cried that night. and for what? the guy that i no longer knew…. although i wanted it more than anything, although i begged for it, looked at the sky and asked God what if you were thinking of me too. it was stupid. and so pathetic. i mean who does that?
and here i am thinking of you. the way you smiled, the way … God, I sound like a paragraph from twilight. nvm. i just wanted to say. that no, i don’t feel the same way, and im sure you don’t either. but the history is glaring me in the eyes, boring into my back, slamming into my side…. waiting for me to open that chapter again. but i know it was naive and just a fantasy. i mean in reality? we couldn’t be together. two completely different groups… well, at least at the apex of the day. at night, i know you;ll be where you’re always at. at night you probably have to guess where I am at.. I’ve always bin a mystery to you haven’t I? well… i don’t know. I like that. But i can’t say im not holding my feet from going there. from meeting you and actually saying hi since… what? has it been 3 years?you do look a little different…. can’t say you look worse, though. you got your preferred out of the probable.
for this second, ill pretend like it was yesterday, and i didn’t pass by you today, that we didn’t stare. that you didn’t stop mid way in conversation and ask: hey… don’t i know you? and well, like the classic cheesy movies ill answer: no. you never did. but im not sure, you might have known me better than now… but well enough. but that’s lame. i don’t want the irrational mutual feeling of love to engulf me and swallow me up whole.
idontwantit.
you know what? ill go see you. tonight. hopefully u ARE at where i think you are. cause if you’re not…. well, let’s just say that would bring me back to square one, and drop me to rock bottom. i would loose the will to bother. i would continue to ignore, and avoid. but no flirting i promise. just want to talk, to say hi… and may be figure out why…
Thet are so amazing. Its like the door to anything. Like love, mystery, hope, ect. Ot can mean the world. Who youre going to marry. Love. Save you. Like the fish in the pond. It completes the picture, like you and me.
The cards were worn, and the game was beloved. We would play it a lot. I figure all married couples do. However, I was always the culprit. The game was just guessing what I altered and where the horrid act took place. I have grown accustom to tip toeing about and quickly scanning each room to cover my bases. “Sweetheart, were you with your best friend in the study again?” Caught. Next time I will just have to bury my tracks. He is always at an advantage anyway, knowing that it will always be my fault.
Clue is something to have before an answer to a question that we want answered to
clue
I have no
clue
what to write
what to think
I have no clue, my dear
don’t ask me
I’m as lost as you are
I can offer myself
my words
without a clue,
lost.
I’m lost.
We’ll be lost
together?
I had a clue once she sat down at the table. Her lack of acknowledgment to anything I said immediately deterred my efforts. I simply got up, and as any reasonable individual would do, flipped the table onto her silky white dress and walked away.
Give me a clue
Give me a clue about how to live this life. I have tried and now I am aware that the years have spun by. I wonder if I have done it right or enough and how to change that. Give me a clue about the purpose. Give me a clue about what is the best path to take. Give me a clue about what it means to be the best, to do the best.
“Do you have a clue?” the note read. A clue. Hm. Well, I got roses, a stuffed animal, and several other notes from the person. A clue.
Obviously. I know who it is. It had to be.
“Jason!” I yelled out from the middle of the halls. A melancholy pale face appeared from a throng of people passing notes and roses. He scanned the area for a moment before a smile lit up those sad, silver eyes. I rushed over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, planting a kiss upon his cheek.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he cooed.
clueless. the game clu. candlestick. conservatory. guessing. i will not edit this. alicia sliverstone. mom was a cool mom for letting me watch that. rhymes with blue. sounds so pretty. could be a name. what i search for
Not like Private Investigator Stewart had a clue what was going on. But his client was passed out on the floor, one shoe scuffed and separated from its foot.
get a clue you goshdarn ahole you really are the biggest jerk who ive ever really spent time with and i just cant even believe i let that stuff happen but youre a manipulative jerk and you can just go to heck okay because youre not a ‘nice guy’ like you so claim to be and thus you will never get a nice girl especially not me so yeah you lost me sucks for you jerk!!!
Staring at each other through steam rising from the coffee cupped in each hand. No understanding. Silence. Pain. Frustration of months.
Deadening silence.