it’s like her mind is drifting away. i look at her ageing face and try and remember what she looked like when she didn’t need others support. there was so much adjustment to be made all of a sudden when our father left us. when dad had left us my conscience kept telling me that it was all my fault.
It’s been a long week.
The New York Times published an article basically about the failure of my graduating class.
I feel like since I’ve graduated I’ve been drifting in and out of life, of being a “real person.”
Cheesy and cliche I know, but that’s the truth when working a min wage job with a Bachelor’s degree.
i was drifting through the center of
this shifting, twisting universe.
and once my feet came to the floor,
i saw that i exist no more.
the universe just took its toll.
not a single thing is left to hold.
My world is starting to unfold.
The lies you’ve told are getting old.
With this sudden lack of gravity,
You have floated off, so far from me.
Now your face is what I cannot see.
So I lay here in my self defeat.
Drifting is like the ocean. Everything drifts near and far. Even bad things can drift in the water. Trash, recycling, etc. Driftwood also drifts through the ocean. It can come from the other side of the world and still get to your feet. Many things can drift in many places.
There i was, drifting down the river, face down in the water. The only thoughts that crossed my mind were, how did i get here, and how was i going to get home. When it came down to it, it was obvious that the whole thing was my fault, but i didn’t want to accept that. I knew deep down she had something to do with his disappearance.
It was like she didn’t know how far off land she’d gotten. When you’re just drifting, it’s easy to forget. It’s easy to let days and nights turns into weeks and months. And before you know it, you’re somewhere far, far away. You’re someone that you don’t recognize anymore.
Drifting reminds me of a raft floating in the ocean. I imagine turquoise waves and various people watching from the beach as the raft floats and drifts away, following the natural current of the ocean. Not only is the raft drifting away, but the person whom may be occupying it is, as their mind is relaxed and calm.
The leaves drifted along the river. There were stunning shades of gold and red and brown. They danced along between sunbeams. Like canoes or a lazy afternoon.
We were drifting along, the sun beating down on my stomach and stubborn beads of sea water. A buoy clanged in the distance. The seagulls cried, the waves broke. The rhythmic slap, slop of salty paws against the side of the boat, Poseidon’s lullaby as you slept. I baked under a veil of misty kisses from the ocean and watched you. In that moment, I owned this endless expanse, this stretched horizon of glittering waves, shared solitude with you. I wished the sun would never set, the gulls would never sleep, and the time would not come when we would have to row our way back to shore.
drifting. tearing apart from someone you love. missing a person, but not doing anything about it. drifting apart and there is no stopping it. drifting away like a ship in the ocean. drifting from shore into the open;
I just feel like drifting through school. I want to get out, can’t wait to leave. I hate that place, so moronic, filled with stupidity and aggravations. Just drift me away to an island shore.
drifiting through time. moments that build. pushing. pulling. watching. never waiting. drifting can be beautiful. letting the journey unfold. never lost.
Drifting off, away. Far away. I watched as earth faded to a tiny sapphire marble. The stars drew near until all around all we could see were the tiny pinpricks of distant promises.
i’m drifting away on the river
with the stars above me
and the water below
my love for you is drifting away on the river
with the hearts above it
and hell below.
sailing always reminds me of the good items and the fun times. drifting along the coast, drifting along in my mind. everything makes sense. just drifting along waiting for you. drifting drifting.
I’ve had my strings cut, I guess. Folks always act like thats a bad thing. Me, I think it’s freedom. I’ve never had much of anyone countin’ on me, so I s’pose not having to count on anyone else is pretty swell. I’m drifting. I’m following my own road. And a real one too. The I-95. S’been more of a mother to me than any woman that raised me.
I love my sister very much. She helps me with so many things and she always makes it a point to never make me feel so bad about myself. I don’t know, honestly. Lately, I’ve been feeling that she’s not doing enough. It’s as if the bond we’ve had before isn’t the same. I wish I could approach her a little more often, but time really does change. I still love her though. We wont’ give up on each other. :)
Drifting through the past is something a mind should not do. One should reminiscence, but never linger on something. Something being regret, pride, or past pleasure and remorse. There is no benefit. boop boop boop
I was about to go drifting for the first time, but I was stopped by the cops that were around the corner. I guess that was a good luck and bad luck at the same time since it saved my life but i got a ticket fine of $500.
The End
Hahaha. Yes, that’s exactly what’s going on. Although “drifting” is probably too gentle a descriptor for it. I’m being left. Plain and simple. New friends, new interests, new pursuits. Nevermind what came before, who’s stood firm, who kept watch. On to the next. Drifting.
Drifting between states of bliss and nothingness. No longer are there the seeping feelings of the worthlessness of this life as there once were. Those feelings that I despised; that I took out on you; that brought us to this. I’m not sure whether what I feel is grateful or resent, nor how others envision me now. We all change someday. Drifting. Drifting. Sleep….
I feel as though I am drifting some days. In the ocean. All alone. People try to speak to me…I watch their lips move rhythmically, but I hear a foreign language. I do not know what I am supposed to do, who I should talk to, or where I should go. It’s those drifting days when I just want to lie in bed and let the ocean of my mind toss my wandering thoughts around in my head.
Drifting
First crack your head open. Whatever is closest, the counter, your locker. Crack it on how many times your father told you were a good person and you couldn’t believe him. Then you’ll drift
I feel like I’ve been drifting for a long time now. Drifting straight through life. I can’t remember what being truly happy is, or how to keep it for more than a few minutes. I keep thinking about the accident. I keep thinking about death. It seems so exciting. My life is so boring. I’m ready to get out of here but I want so much more than just to get out of here.
I could feel you drifting away from me. Like Huck Finn, floating away on his make shift raft down the Mississippi river, until you was just a spot on murky horizon, and then nothing at all. I always expected you to come back to me. Huck came back home, didn’t he? Or maybe he didn’t. I never finished it. Maybe he drowned on his stupid little raft. Why’d he leave anyways? He had it pretty good, right? Why didn’t he take me with him? Maybe I wanted to float down the Mississippi river, and go on some big adventure. Don’t you get lonely? Maybe Huck wanted to be alone. Or maybe he just didn’t want me.
The moment when I could close my eyes and be asleep. But a part of me resists.
Then my brain circuits fire every which way full of ideas and words. Then I slip into this half awake and half asleep state. The morning comes with little rest and none of these thoughts on paper. Interesting what a cold empty bed can do.
might’ve wished you’d stay;
might’ve wished you’d go;
air guitar lessons in early morning, late july, rotting driftwood composing your front porch, back porch, anger came so easy then, when the stakes were low;
loss was impermanent, and out of my mind, like you are now;
free of something, at least.
We were drifting apart and I knew it. I could see in his face that he knew it too, but niether of us said anything. We didn’t want to come to terms with reality. We both knew that deep down inside, that it wasn’t going to last forever.
I noticed. But I stayed quite because I’m a good girlfriend. I don’t bitch I don’t pester. So I ignored it. The divide. But then you looked me in the eye and said you didn’t care anymore. Why did I let it happen? I should have known.
it’s like her mind is drifting away. i look at her ageing face and try and remember what she looked like when she didn’t need others support. there was so much adjustment to be made all of a sudden when our father left us. when dad had left us my conscience kept telling me that it was all my fault.
It’s been a long week.
The New York Times published an article basically about the failure of my graduating class.
I feel like since I’ve graduated I’ve been drifting in and out of life, of being a “real person.”
Cheesy and cliche I know, but that’s the truth when working a min wage job with a Bachelor’s degree.
i was drifting through the center of
this shifting, twisting universe.
and once my feet came to the floor,
i saw that i exist no more.
the universe just took its toll.
not a single thing is left to hold.
My world is starting to unfold.
The lies you’ve told are getting old.
With this sudden lack of gravity,
You have floated off, so far from me.
Now your face is what I cannot see.
So I lay here in my self defeat.
I’m drifting in the space between the ceiling and the insulation. I’m listening to your hurried words below, the cadence rocking my lose mind.
impulse, to draft, a flow of air between obects, vagrant hitch hiker. to drift behind an 18wheeler truck. To drive behind and close up air flow.
Drifting is like the ocean. Everything drifts near and far. Even bad things can drift in the water. Trash, recycling, etc. Driftwood also drifts through the ocean. It can come from the other side of the world and still get to your feet. Many things can drift in many places.
There i was, drifting down the river, face down in the water. The only thoughts that crossed my mind were, how did i get here, and how was i going to get home. When it came down to it, it was obvious that the whole thing was my fault, but i didn’t want to accept that. I knew deep down she had something to do with his disappearance.
It was like she didn’t know how far off land she’d gotten. When you’re just drifting, it’s easy to forget. It’s easy to let days and nights turns into weeks and months. And before you know it, you’re somewhere far, far away. You’re someone that you don’t recognize anymore.
Drifting reminds me of a raft floating in the ocean. I imagine turquoise waves and various people watching from the beach as the raft floats and drifts away, following the natural current of the ocean. Not only is the raft drifting away, but the person whom may be occupying it is, as their mind is relaxed and calm.
The leaves drifted along the river. There were stunning shades of gold and red and brown. They danced along between sunbeams. Like canoes or a lazy afternoon.
We were drifting along, the sun beating down on my stomach and stubborn beads of sea water. A buoy clanged in the distance. The seagulls cried, the waves broke. The rhythmic slap, slop of salty paws against the side of the boat, Poseidon’s lullaby as you slept. I baked under a veil of misty kisses from the ocean and watched you. In that moment, I owned this endless expanse, this stretched horizon of glittering waves, shared solitude with you. I wished the sun would never set, the gulls would never sleep, and the time would not come when we would have to row our way back to shore.
drifting. tearing apart from someone you love. missing a person, but not doing anything about it. drifting apart and there is no stopping it. drifting away like a ship in the ocean. drifting from shore into the open;
this ocean we are built on is drifting. this ocean of regrets and self hatred, but coincidentally of love. the love is hidden. the love is drifting.
I just feel like drifting through school. I want to get out, can’t wait to leave. I hate that place, so moronic, filled with stupidity and aggravations. Just drift me away to an island shore.
As I jump into the clear pool, serenity follows the end of the loud splash and deep sound of water. I am drifting, and my mind calms.
I am drifting lazily along… finding myself cannot be harder.
Though, it is only a dream away, so… Good night, my love.
Good night.
drifiting through time. moments that build. pushing. pulling. watching. never waiting. drifting can be beautiful. letting the journey unfold. never lost.
Drifting off, away. Far away. I watched as earth faded to a tiny sapphire marble. The stars drew near until all around all we could see were the tiny pinpricks of distant promises.
i’m drifting away on the river
with the stars above me
and the water below
my love for you is drifting away on the river
with the hearts above it
and hell below.
sailing always reminds me of the good items and the fun times. drifting along the coast, drifting along in my mind. everything makes sense. just drifting along waiting for you. drifting drifting.
Sometimes I feel like I’m just drifting through life — no purpose, no destination, no anchor.
Sigh.
I’ve had my strings cut, I guess. Folks always act like thats a bad thing. Me, I think it’s freedom. I’ve never had much of anyone countin’ on me, so I s’pose not having to count on anyone else is pretty swell. I’m drifting. I’m following my own road. And a real one too. The I-95. S’been more of a mother to me than any woman that raised me.
I love my sister very much. She helps me with so many things and she always makes it a point to never make me feel so bad about myself. I don’t know, honestly. Lately, I’ve been feeling that she’s not doing enough. It’s as if the bond we’ve had before isn’t the same. I wish I could approach her a little more often, but time really does change. I still love her though. We wont’ give up on each other. :)
Drifting through the past is something a mind should not do. One should reminiscence, but never linger on something. Something being regret, pride, or past pleasure and remorse. There is no benefit. boop boop boop
I was about to go drifting for the first time, but I was stopped by the cops that were around the corner. I guess that was a good luck and bad luck at the same time since it saved my life but i got a ticket fine of $500.
The End
Drifting is to float from one place in your world to another.
Drifting; to go with the flow and smile.
As I was drifting through the clouds, I thought to myself, “This is not really happening.”
Hahaha. Yes, that’s exactly what’s going on. Although “drifting” is probably too gentle a descriptor for it. I’m being left. Plain and simple. New friends, new interests, new pursuits. Nevermind what came before, who’s stood firm, who kept watch. On to the next. Drifting.
Drifting between states of bliss and nothingness. No longer are there the seeping feelings of the worthlessness of this life as there once were. Those feelings that I despised; that I took out on you; that brought us to this. I’m not sure whether what I feel is grateful or resent, nor how others envision me now. We all change someday. Drifting. Drifting. Sleep….
I feel as though I am drifting some days. In the ocean. All alone. People try to speak to me…I watch their lips move rhythmically, but I hear a foreign language. I do not know what I am supposed to do, who I should talk to, or where I should go. It’s those drifting days when I just want to lie in bed and let the ocean of my mind toss my wandering thoughts around in my head.
My mind was leaving, drifting, away into the deep sea of thoughts. My emotions are out of tune with reality. I leave my life to the ocean.
Drifting
First crack your head open. Whatever is closest, the counter, your locker. Crack it on how many times your father told you were a good person and you couldn’t believe him. Then you’ll drift
I feel like I’ve been drifting for a long time now. Drifting straight through life. I can’t remember what being truly happy is, or how to keep it for more than a few minutes. I keep thinking about the accident. I keep thinking about death. It seems so exciting. My life is so boring. I’m ready to get out of here but I want so much more than just to get out of here.
w
I could feel you drifting away from me. Like Huck Finn, floating away on his make shift raft down the Mississippi river, until you was just a spot on murky horizon, and then nothing at all. I always expected you to come back to me. Huck came back home, didn’t he? Or maybe he didn’t. I never finished it. Maybe he drowned on his stupid little raft. Why’d he leave anyways? He had it pretty good, right? Why didn’t he take me with him? Maybe I wanted to float down the Mississippi river, and go on some big adventure. Don’t you get lonely? Maybe Huck wanted to be alone. Or maybe he just didn’t want me.
The moment when I could close my eyes and be asleep. But a part of me resists.
Then my brain circuits fire every which way full of ideas and words. Then I slip into this half awake and half asleep state. The morning comes with little rest and none of these thoughts on paper. Interesting what a cold empty bed can do.
might’ve wished you’d stay;
might’ve wished you’d go;
air guitar lessons in early morning, late july, rotting driftwood composing your front porch, back porch, anger came so easy then, when the stakes were low;
loss was impermanent, and out of my mind, like you are now;
free of something, at least.
Drifting slowly
through soft terrain
as i lay back
on your pillow
i look into
your drifting eyes
as you fa
ll
slowly
asleep.
We were drifting apart and I knew it. I could see in his face that he knew it too, but niether of us said anything. We didn’t want to come to terms with reality. We both knew that deep down inside, that it wasn’t going to last forever.
I noticed. But I stayed quite because I’m a good girlfriend. I don’t bitch I don’t pester. So I ignored it. The divide. But then you looked me in the eye and said you didn’t care anymore. Why did I let it happen? I should have known.