it was entirely unfamiliar to me, like soap to a hippie. i’d heard of it before, but i never really understood what it was…or how it could harm me. i resolved immediately to be rid of it.
I wish I could communicate more with my cat. We understand each other quite well, considering the obvious barriers, but I’d love to know more about who she is, what she feels, thinks, experiences. She’s adorable and she’s my friend and I’d love to know her better.
I was at a far off place and I figured that I was supposed to be there. I didn’t recognize the people, I didn’t recognize the scenery. I didn’t even know what time it was. It should have been a blur. But it wasn’t. Truth be told, the path I chose is one I’m happy with.
I’m a foreigner myself. I live in the Uk and am originally from holland. It’s funny how you can get away with things as a foreigner. For some reason when i make a blunt remark its considered funny whereas a blunt remark by a local is considered rude. Well thats my time.
It’s a foreign feeling, really. Jealousy. It knows how to consume you–how to infiltrate your every thought, every vein, every blood vessel until you forget that it was possible to feel anything else. It eventually turns into anger and resentment, and all you want to do is yell and scream–get your feelings heard. But you can’t. What if that makes him leave? So you bottle it up, living with a smile on your face, pretending it doesn’t hurt to see him talking with her–laughing with her. But you can’t hold up forever. Eventually, it will be too much to keep in, and you will break. Then, everyone will hear what you have to say.
Outside of one’s domain, whatever that is. Things other than you are scary, no? But they’re interesting, too. Run forward to meet what’s new, even if it scares you. If it’s bad, you can smash it better up close.
Foreign ice cubes near foreign sea
in a foreign drink from a foreign land
a foreign glass, taken by foreign hands
and sipped with foreign lips
The foreign winds traveling from foreign places
to foreign destinations belong nowhere.
Like waves breaking on the shore of someplace you’ve never been before. Something you can’t understand. New places, that smell like curry, spices, water, warm air, snowflakes, exhaust, musk. New smells, new colors, new sounds. Bells, maroon, teal, birds, sleeping in a hammock, fireflies, barbecue in the snow, homemade paper, little barefoot kids, bikes, mangoes, stars.
The eggs were foreign to her. She stared at them, trying to figure out how something could be so perfect, and yet not circular. It just didn’t make sense. Circles were the essence of perfection; ovals were not. So how could these “eggs” be so smooth, so creamy white, so versatile, so delicious?
Jesus christ, I wish you would stop calling yourself a foreigner. You’ve been here for five years, and you don’t even smell like the city any more. I know that being from the city gives you a certain allure which half makes up for the lack in your character, but don’t fool yourself, shithead. I gotchyou.
I didn’t want him to be a foreigner but he was because I didn’t know him yet. I asked him if he wanted to know me and he said he might think about it. I walked away then, because I wan’t sure he’s understand it if I stayed. He’d never been anything but a foreigner to anyone before.
Thought was foreign to her, and creativity another realm entirely. Through the haze she grasped at the vague wisps of an idea as it failed again and again to solidify.
This place was foreign to her. The touch, the smell. Something new, something different. She looked down from the clouds and saw them. People she cared about, places she loved. She felt herself fade away, nothing more than a mere memory.
I was born in a land far from this one.
When I arrived, naught looked at me with familiarity.
The winds blow in different directions so that I may never find my way home.
Always lost.
Foreign people are funny. Im not racist but stereo types are hilarious when they actually hold true, but I dont go up to someone a certain ethnicity assuming they are going to act that way.
the ball felt foreign in his hand. it was as if he had never seen a baseball, or maybe even heard of it. but of course he did; this had been his whole life at a time. he blinked and looked up.
The place where I feel the most foreign is in my own mind. Strange that the world seems so small yet the world in my brain moves on forever, life and time seem so insignificant in entirety of a single human mind.
finding the one who left, love and romance, rules and regulations that keep you apart, broken promises, things left unsaid, sexy accents, language barrier. missing who left you behind.
He stood, on the bow of the ship, overlooking the land through his telescope. They had been over two months at sea, and finally Cristoforo was going to set foot on solid, if foreign soil. When his crew members rowed him ashore, he said, “I claim this land for Spain, even though I am Italian.”
His crew who, a couple days earlier were about to feed him to the sharks, praised him as an all-knowing, all seeing hero. Glad-handing and “I never gave up on you” remarks were plentiful, but everyone was elated, happy to touch ground on this historic day.
The natives who lived on the island brought the gifts of fruits and parrots because they knew a man so loved by his colleagues must be a real swell guy…
foreign means not of your original place. People can be foreign, things can be foreign. A place can be foreign to you. It makes me think of a foreign place on a map in a video game, or an Asian person in America. Things that dont seem like they belong
Never been before.. wanting to visit many foreign places before i die.. my all time wish! fingers crossed.. need to make it come true :). i love India though but wanna see the world :)
unfamiliar. unknown. somone or something or somewhere that is not known or is mysterious. an adventure. an invitation. a question mark. a boundary to cross. a label to destroy.
a little crazy
too many foreign things
makes my calmness
lazy
but a long water later
I’m at a different place
so blame me
that my heart goes zig zag
and takes everyone with it
that in my anxiousness
all i want is a good fit
around my hand
or something around my body
like a hug
because last time i checked
we were all about making each other feel good
but i want it for more than just this moment
i want it to fill all of the other directions of this second
I am a foreigner in a foreign land. That is what I was told to be. My faith makes me like a stranger. I don’t belong here. I belong in heaven with my Lord, Jesus Christ. I am foreign on this earth.
to me the foreign experience is one of beauty, grace and exploration. its finding out that the words you have been saying mean something completely diffferent than what you thought they meant. it is learning the different cultures of people. its dropping boxers down three floors into someone elses home. its finding out that you are unique
Being foreign. Haha. I’m from Hong kong and Los angeles. China and America. It’s fun to have to explain that too people. I like the word. It’s got negative connotations. But I like it. It sets me apart. Makes me different. Ching chong ting tong ling long. Whuddup UCLA.
i dont like foreign things. they make me nervous! like me being in a foreign place. its not cool. or like when you put your socks in your living room on your entertainment center. its weird. and i dont do weird. i also get nervous around foreign people. Not people of other races, just people that are foreign to me.
It was a dark and dreary day when I climbed out of the train car. It was as if I’d dropped off into a land of possibility. The foreign landscape reminded me of a jungle and and ancient city. It felt so out of place in the middle of Central Station. Mobs of people stormed into my paradise and roughly knocked me to the musty ground. A strong hand reached out and touched mine. I was electrified.
What is foreign anymore? Is is a person? is it a way of thinking? In an age in which I can peek almost anywhere with Google Maps, can I be called foreigner ?? if I can learn so much Am I still a stranger? I
it was entirely unfamiliar to me, like soap to a hippie. i’d heard of it before, but i never really understood what it was…or how it could harm me. i resolved immediately to be rid of it.
I wish I could communicate more with my cat. We understand each other quite well, considering the obvious barriers, but I’d love to know more about who she is, what she feels, thinks, experiences. She’s adorable and she’s my friend and I’d love to know her better.
I was at a far off place and I figured that I was supposed to be there. I didn’t recognize the people, I didn’t recognize the scenery. I didn’t even know what time it was. It should have been a blur. But it wasn’t. Truth be told, the path I chose is one I’m happy with.
I’m a foreigner myself. I live in the Uk and am originally from holland. It’s funny how you can get away with things as a foreigner. For some reason when i make a blunt remark its considered funny whereas a blunt remark by a local is considered rude. Well thats my time.
It’s a foreign feeling, really. Jealousy. It knows how to consume you–how to infiltrate your every thought, every vein, every blood vessel until you forget that it was possible to feel anything else. It eventually turns into anger and resentment, and all you want to do is yell and scream–get your feelings heard. But you can’t. What if that makes him leave? So you bottle it up, living with a smile on your face, pretending it doesn’t hurt to see him talking with her–laughing with her. But you can’t hold up forever. Eventually, it will be too much to keep in, and you will break. Then, everyone will hear what you have to say.
“sdfsdfsfsdfsdfsdfsdfsfdggfdgdgdfggdgdgdgdgdg#%#%” now that sounds foreign right??
Outside of one’s domain, whatever that is. Things other than you are scary, no? But they’re interesting, too. Run forward to meet what’s new, even if it scares you. If it’s bad, you can smash it better up close.
Foreign ice cubes near foreign sea
in a foreign drink from a foreign land
a foreign glass, taken by foreign hands
and sipped with foreign lips
The foreign winds traveling from foreign places
to foreign destinations belong nowhere.
Like waves breaking on the shore of someplace you’ve never been before. Something you can’t understand. New places, that smell like curry, spices, water, warm air, snowflakes, exhaust, musk. New smells, new colors, new sounds. Bells, maroon, teal, birds, sleeping in a hammock, fireflies, barbecue in the snow, homemade paper, little barefoot kids, bikes, mangoes, stars.
The eggs were foreign to her. She stared at them, trying to figure out how something could be so perfect, and yet not circular. It just didn’t make sense. Circles were the essence of perfection; ovals were not. So how could these “eggs” be so smooth, so creamy white, so versatile, so delicious?
Jesus christ, I wish you would stop calling yourself a foreigner. You’ve been here for five years, and you don’t even smell like the city any more. I know that being from the city gives you a certain allure which half makes up for the lack in your character, but don’t fool yourself, shithead. I gotchyou.
I didn’t want him to be a foreigner but he was because I didn’t know him yet. I asked him if he wanted to know me and he said he might think about it. I walked away then, because I wan’t sure he’s understand it if I stayed. He’d never been anything but a foreigner to anyone before.
Thought was foreign to her, and creativity another realm entirely. Through the haze she grasped at the vague wisps of an idea as it failed again and again to solidify.
something some people are lucky to be. to be a different cultural is an exciting thing to be a part of.
This place was foreign to her. The touch, the smell. Something new, something different. She looked down from the clouds and saw them. People she cared about, places she loved. She felt herself fade away, nothing more than a mere memory.
I was born in a land far from this one.
When I arrived, naught looked at me with familiarity.
The winds blow in different directions so that I may never find my way home.
Always lost.
Foreign people are funny. Im not racist but stereo types are hilarious when they actually hold true, but I dont go up to someone a certain ethnicity assuming they are going to act that way.
Men and women from everywhere but America. Here in America everything is actually made in china but who gives a shit
this is a word of excitement to me. what to you do that is different from me? what can i learn from you?
the ball felt foreign in his hand. it was as if he had never seen a baseball, or maybe even heard of it. but of course he did; this had been his whole life at a time. he blinked and looked up.
foreigners imigrate to the u.s. to find a new life. love it or hate it, it’s america and they can only accept what they find.
my mom is foreign. I am foreign. We are all foreign. No one belongs to anything and nothing belongs to anyone!
The place where I feel the most foreign is in my own mind. Strange that the world seems so small yet the world in my brain moves on forever, life and time seem so insignificant in entirety of a single human mind.
finding the one who left, love and romance, rules and regulations that keep you apart, broken promises, things left unsaid, sexy accents, language barrier. missing who left you behind.
love the pain
countries
far
unique
different
unfamilliar
pain
not of where I am from, unfamiliar, something to learn, interesting and unique. Controversial and requires an open mind. Something that excites me.
He stood, on the bow of the ship, overlooking the land through his telescope. They had been over two months at sea, and finally Cristoforo was going to set foot on solid, if foreign soil. When his crew members rowed him ashore, he said, “I claim this land for Spain, even though I am Italian.”
His crew who, a couple days earlier were about to feed him to the sharks, praised him as an all-knowing, all seeing hero. Glad-handing and “I never gave up on you” remarks were plentiful, but everyone was elated, happy to touch ground on this historic day.
The natives who lived on the island brought the gifts of fruits and parrots because they knew a man so loved by his colleagues must be a real swell guy…
foreign means not of your original place. People can be foreign, things can be foreign. A place can be foreign to you. It makes me think of a foreign place on a map in a video game, or an Asian person in America. Things that dont seem like they belong
Never been before.. wanting to visit many foreign places before i die.. my all time wish! fingers crossed.. need to make it come true :). i love India though but wanna see the world :)
unfamiliar. unknown. somone or something or somewhere that is not known or is mysterious. an adventure. an invitation. a question mark. a boundary to cross. a label to destroy.
a little crazy
too many foreign things
makes my calmness
lazy
but a long water later
I’m at a different place
so blame me
that my heart goes zig zag
and takes everyone with it
that in my anxiousness
all i want is a good fit
around my hand
or something around my body
like a hug
because last time i checked
we were all about making each other feel good
but i want it for more than just this moment
i want it to fill all of the other directions of this second
I am a foreigner in a foreign land. That is what I was told to be. My faith makes me like a stranger. I don’t belong here. I belong in heaven with my Lord, Jesus Christ. I am foreign on this earth.
I am a foreign object in this world who has been brought by her parents so that I can turn into a human and eventually into a better person.
to me the foreign experience is one of beauty, grace and exploration. its finding out that the words you have been saying mean something completely diffferent than what you thought they meant. it is learning the different cultures of people. its dropping boxers down three floors into someone elses home. its finding out that you are unique
Being foreign. Haha. I’m from Hong kong and Los angeles. China and America. It’s fun to have to explain that too people. I like the word. It’s got negative connotations. But I like it. It sets me apart. Makes me different. Ching chong ting tong ling long. Whuddup UCLA.
i dont like foreign things. they make me nervous! like me being in a foreign place. its not cool. or like when you put your socks in your living room on your entertainment center. its weird. and i dont do weird. i also get nervous around foreign people. Not people of other races, just people that are foreign to me.
foreign things are always creeping into your life and influencing your thoughts, patterns, ideas. Foreign concepts. foreign people.
scary sounds and unknown colours lights see people run and yell. They are screaming. They are laughing, it is fun and we all dance.
pizza
purple?
It was a dark and dreary day when I climbed out of the train car. It was as if I’d dropped off into a land of possibility. The foreign landscape reminded me of a jungle and and ancient city. It felt so out of place in the middle of Central Station. Mobs of people stormed into my paradise and roughly knocked me to the musty ground. A strong hand reached out and touched mine. I was electrified.
What is foreign anymore? Is is a person? is it a way of thinking? In an age in which I can peek almost anywhere with Google Maps, can I be called foreigner ?? if I can learn so much Am I still a stranger? I