I’ve never loved you.
I only loved the lustful glances at me
Why am I in a hurry to make you love me?
Why do I cry now that you don’t?
The mirror lies to our faces
Makes us hate our own flesh
I turn to you because you loved
The very bones that lay in my bed
Alone each night
Crying for attention
I’m in no hurry to move on in life. For it means nothing if you’re not here. I could become a poet, an actress. But none of that would matter without you. You don’t need me like I need you.
Hurry up, Mr. Miracle. I know I’m not supposed to rush you, because you rarely stop by and I was once told that you don’t even exist. It all goes by fate, right?
See, I can’t stand this any longer, I need something to tell me that this life is worth living.
Make it happen. Make something happen. Please. I’m on my knees.
oh my god, I’ve got to get there as fast as I can. She won’t wait, I’ve got to make it or she’ll leave and I’ll never see here again. why go to London like this, it leaves so many things left unsaid, we need to sort it out I need to get there!. why won’t this cab driver go faster!
Her surrounding flew by her in a blur. She ran as fast as she could, heals clopping on the solid ground beneath her. Nobody had ever seen her in such a hurry but tonight was a special occasion — her partner was having their baby and she was going to be there to see that beautiful face.
i began to simultaneously become aware of my waking consciousness while i continued to bask in contented bliss. somehow i knew, knew the alarm would sound – seconds before it did. EGH EGH EGH EGH! i jumped out of bed to switch off the clock and hurried back to bed, hoping to stay in that happiness and comfort forever. but, of course – to no avail. life is cruel upon return of possibility to its reality.
better hurry, the days go by like nothing, these days. growing up, time turns to smoke and slips through the cracks between your fingers. before you know it this break’ll be over and you’ll be back to cramming and pushing and stressing, feeling hopeless. soon the concert will be here. THE concert – biggest of your life so far. the Eroica. then the last this year will come and go. not long and the semester will bleed into summer. how significant will that concerto become next year? the next four years are going to pass light-years faster than the last. then what. do i really fool myself into thinking it’ll be anything but mcdonalds. but who knows? maybe ill finally be in another state by then. actually, a lot could happen. the given is that it’s all going to occur in an overwhelmingly short amount of time. id hate not to be ready, or worse – to miss it.
why are people always in a hurry? i actually just wrote a piece for English about this. what’s the point of always hurrying up, rushing to finish things, if you don’t stop to enjoy the hard work? speaking of which, i should hurry and get to bed. blah
“Hurry, hurry!” said the old woman. “I need that flour to bake a cake.” The little girl ran off to the grocery store. The old woman cackled. “A cake of poison,” she whispered to herself.
Time is of the essence. We rush from one place to the other all for the sake of time. Time is the enemy. There is just never enough. And once we are at the place in time where we have so much of it, we don’t know what to do. Time is precious; time is gold. There is a reason why we live our lives by a clock. We must decide what is most important; what and who should be the sacrifice. If we had all the time in the world, we would never learn time management. We would not make important sacrifices that could possibly determine our life outcome. We must be capable to manage our time for survival. There is never an easy answer, and if you cannot make a decision, you will spend the rest of your life rushing from place to place; person to person. When will you have the time for yourself?
The world has always been in a constant state of rush. Everyone hurrying from one thing to the next, as if they didn’t get there as soon as possible the world would end and all would vanish. Slow down. Stop to smell the roses and I promise the present will become just as appealing as the future – and it’s something that you can experience now which clearly is what we all are in search of.
Hurry up the train is waiting
To carry you to your destination
Run run run
It will carry you to the place where all your dreams will come true…
if you’re lucky
if not, your world will fall apart and one day be rebuilt
So run run run
Hurry hurry hurry
catch the train before it leaves you behind
Life is waiting for you at the end of the train ride
Maybe it will take you to Narnia
Or Hogwarts or any destination where you will live
She was in no hurry to leave. This was the last time she would ever set foot in this place, after all. No, she was in no hurry to leave, but the vast flow of people out of the accursed building was more than enough to get her moving quickly. All it took was one last look behind her, at the swiftly vanishing building for the realization to kick in. “I’m free.” She whispered, to no one in particular. “Free.”
i’m in a hurry to finish this god-damned book and save the world – both the planet and the people on it. the thing is, if i hurry to write it, it won’t save the world, and if i don’t finish it soon, it’ll be too late!
come on, get up, she says. My shoulder is shaken, and I swat at her lazily, my eyes screwed up tight, almost as if my eyelids are trying to push the dreams back into my vision. But no, I gotta get up, I gotta hurry, I gotta rush and face another day, and the dreams’ll havta wait.
The boy, no more than five, ran. Ran until his feet bled, ran until his lungs burned; he had to hurry, for if he did not, they all would die. He sucked in a deep breath of hot, ashy air, coughing hoarsely. He would not make it…
I was in a hurry to get off the gray street and faded city lights, to disappear down a flight of stairs and into a small doorway. Away from the claustrophobia of the people all dressed in black, who silently fight you for walking space on the sidewalk, who forcefully ignore you and avoid making eye contact at all cost because they’re in a rush. I would slip below into a quiet shop like a seal into water, where I could breathe finally. Where it would smell like old books and fresh coffee. Where the gentle lights would feel like forgiveness from the harsh cold and empty hostility outside. Pull up a stool and relax, let your hands chapped from the cold wrap around a hot mug of steamed milk and espresso.
Come on, man. Don’t wait up. You can’t enjoy your life if you’re always rushing through like that. It’s not healthy. Half of fun of an experience is the journey it takes to get there. Don’t be scared. Go! Don’t look back!
She hurried down the sidewalk, heels clicking impatiently against the concrete and subway grates. The cars hissed on the shining pavement, spitting the rainwater as they went. Each step was more and more rushed as she worked her way up the street against the headlights, each breath bringing her closer and closer to home. Where she could lay on the couch and pretend, just for a second, that she was safe.
so far i have been in no hurry to get things moving, to begin the progression in my life. now that time starts to wind down and deadlines come near, it is hard to fathom just how much there is to be done.
Hurry, hurry, hurry! The festival is about to start! Ryan pulls on his socks and runs out all a flurry, wool cap pulled over his ears. Hurry, hurry, hurry! He grabs a slice of buttered and jam-ed bread to eat. His mother waits for him by the door. Outside, the sky is lit with greens and reds. Ribbons streak the air and across windows. Old men dance in the street and girls toss coins to clowns and acrobats. And everywhere, the sweet, sweet smell of cinnamon.
Hurry up. I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date. The date is: boom, the day I get my braces off. I rush into that busy, steaming office and get the metal yanked from teeth. “My baby’s a woman,” my mother croons (just kidding). But Mikayla really did squeal when she saw me. She was the only one who was excited. Was she more excited than i was?
You wouldn’t believe the trouble I’m in. Really. Try imagining waking up on Christmas morning, snow floating gently past the window, mince pies roaring in an open fire, the tree dancing drunkenly round the mistletoe, then think about discovering there’s nothing under that tree. Zip, zilch, nada, rien de tout, sweet fanny adams in any language.
Now do you understand why I’m in a hurry, you truly annoying, geographically-challenged, cerebrally absent, ‘you’regoingtogetmekilledbymychildrenandmywifeonDecember25th’ taxi driver. Don’t you dare ask for a tip or I may be forced to gift wrap that meter and implant it up your chimney. Sideways.
“Well, if you’re going to do me in, why don’t you put a hurry on it. This shit filled floor is no picnic site. So if you’re going to do it, get the fuck to it, will ya? Jensen groaned.
The barn fell silent. Almost as if doing him in was the LAST thing anyone was thinking.
i hurry along
everyday i hurry
i hurry through sleep
i hurry through my meals
i hurry through traffic
i hurry through work
i hurry though reading
i hurry through my own thoughts
sometimes i just dont want to hurry
i just want to be me and breathe, but i still hurry through that.
Oh god, she had to hurry or she’d miss him. She would never forgive herself if she missed one moment of his time before he left her. Just one more touch, one more kiss…it would be worth it, she promised herself. A tear slipped from her eye, and she reprimanded herself. No! She would not cry…she could not, for -his- sake.
There’s not much time and there isn’t any time and time seems to really be running out quite rapidly, faster than before really, and I don’t know how to slow it down or stop it but I know there must be a way because things just can’t continue the way that they have been continuing lately and have been for some time now, they just can’t.
i got to hurry uo because if not im going to be late for the show tonight, and if im late for the show tonight then Harry will kill me because we where sipoused to see each other today. Wish me luck
You can never be sure whether you are living in the moment or trying to hurry through life.
Like everything is one big competition to acquire the most things or satisfied feelings in life.
Relax and embrace what your life gives you.
“Hurry, hurry!” he yelled in my ear. I knew our time was running low, but I couldn’t afford to mess this up. Not like the last time. The last time I’d made the fatal error of rushing, and landed us with ten years in prison.
Hurry. I don’t hurry because I am late I hurry because I am excited. Hurrying because you are late is poor planning and conducive to self sabatoge. Hurrying because you are excited is great.
I ran around in a hurry, trying to find all of those last minute objects one usually needs for a road trip.
“Did anyone see the car keys?” i shouted. Megan groaned.
“Rea, why do you always lose them at the worst times?” I sighed. My trips with my collage roommates usually started with a spat-usually with me as the cause.
Stood in line and thought about how much of a hurry I wasn’t in. The world swarmed around me, but I cared nothing for the bustle and hustle. The finish line is but a dirt nap, we’ll all get there eventually.
I’m in a hurry. Everything’s happening at once. The dog is doing his dance, I have to render some video, I have to pee and it’s raining. Then the wife and I have to drive into the city on a warm December evening to meet with friends, you know, holiday stuff. Joy to the world! But first, clown videos and dog poo.
I hurried along the grassy hills, moving as fast as the Lord would deem my body to move, calling on the Spirit to fill me, to reveal the plans of my God, to give me the strength to ever utter the sounds of the story of Christ Jesus. I had to hurry, to proclaim the rightful king, not to brag about my own inheritance, for I was the inheritance, a prize unto my Lord, fully sanctified more each day, until the time of His coming. The race was fast under my feet, and I would not stop until the day had been won.
Rush. Rush. Push past that guy, slip right past her. As long as you get there before the others, you are fine. Faster, faster. The oldest is almost there. You have to beat him. You have to. Losing may mean death.
I’ve never loved you.
I only loved the lustful glances at me
Why am I in a hurry to make you love me?
Why do I cry now that you don’t?
The mirror lies to our faces
Makes us hate our own flesh
I turn to you because you loved
The very bones that lay in my bed
Alone each night
Crying for attention
I’m in no hurry to move on in life. For it means nothing if you’re not here. I could become a poet, an actress. But none of that would matter without you. You don’t need me like I need you.
Hurry up, Mr. Miracle. I know I’m not supposed to rush you, because you rarely stop by and I was once told that you don’t even exist. It all goes by fate, right?
See, I can’t stand this any longer, I need something to tell me that this life is worth living.
Make it happen. Make something happen. Please. I’m on my knees.
oh my god, I’ve got to get there as fast as I can. She won’t wait, I’ve got to make it or she’ll leave and I’ll never see here again. why go to London like this, it leaves so many things left unsaid, we need to sort it out I need to get there!. why won’t this cab driver go faster!
Her surrounding flew by her in a blur. She ran as fast as she could, heals clopping on the solid ground beneath her. Nobody had ever seen her in such a hurry but tonight was a special occasion — her partner was having their baby and she was going to be there to see that beautiful face.
i began to simultaneously become aware of my waking consciousness while i continued to bask in contented bliss. somehow i knew, knew the alarm would sound – seconds before it did. EGH EGH EGH EGH! i jumped out of bed to switch off the clock and hurried back to bed, hoping to stay in that happiness and comfort forever. but, of course – to no avail. life is cruel upon return of possibility to its reality.
better hurry, the days go by like nothing, these days. growing up, time turns to smoke and slips through the cracks between your fingers. before you know it this break’ll be over and you’ll be back to cramming and pushing and stressing, feeling hopeless. soon the concert will be here. THE concert – biggest of your life so far. the Eroica. then the last this year will come and go. not long and the semester will bleed into summer. how significant will that concerto become next year? the next four years are going to pass light-years faster than the last. then what. do i really fool myself into thinking it’ll be anything but mcdonalds. but who knows? maybe ill finally be in another state by then. actually, a lot could happen. the given is that it’s all going to occur in an overwhelmingly short amount of time. id hate not to be ready, or worse – to miss it.
why are people always in a hurry? i actually just wrote a piece for English about this. what’s the point of always hurrying up, rushing to finish things, if you don’t stop to enjoy the hard work? speaking of which, i should hurry and get to bed. blah
“Hurry, hurry!” said the old woman. “I need that flour to bake a cake.” The little girl ran off to the grocery store. The old woman cackled. “A cake of poison,” she whispered to herself.
Time is of the essence. We rush from one place to the other all for the sake of time. Time is the enemy. There is just never enough. And once we are at the place in time where we have so much of it, we don’t know what to do. Time is precious; time is gold. There is a reason why we live our lives by a clock. We must decide what is most important; what and who should be the sacrifice. If we had all the time in the world, we would never learn time management. We would not make important sacrifices that could possibly determine our life outcome. We must be capable to manage our time for survival. There is never an easy answer, and if you cannot make a decision, you will spend the rest of your life rushing from place to place; person to person. When will you have the time for yourself?
The world has always been in a constant state of rush. Everyone hurrying from one thing to the next, as if they didn’t get there as soon as possible the world would end and all would vanish. Slow down. Stop to smell the roses and I promise the present will become just as appealing as the future – and it’s something that you can experience now which clearly is what we all are in search of.
Hurry up the train is waiting
To carry you to your destination
Run run run
It will carry you to the place where all your dreams will come true…
if you’re lucky
if not, your world will fall apart and one day be rebuilt
So run run run
Hurry hurry hurry
catch the train before it leaves you behind
Life is waiting for you at the end of the train ride
Maybe it will take you to Narnia
Or Hogwarts or any destination where you will live
She was in no hurry to leave. This was the last time she would ever set foot in this place, after all. No, she was in no hurry to leave, but the vast flow of people out of the accursed building was more than enough to get her moving quickly. All it took was one last look behind her, at the swiftly vanishing building for the realization to kick in. “I’m free.” She whispered, to no one in particular. “Free.”
i’m in a hurry to finish this god-damned book and save the world – both the planet and the people on it. the thing is, if i hurry to write it, it won’t save the world, and if i don’t finish it soon, it’ll be too late!
come on, get up, she says. My shoulder is shaken, and I swat at her lazily, my eyes screwed up tight, almost as if my eyelids are trying to push the dreams back into my vision. But no, I gotta get up, I gotta hurry, I gotta rush and face another day, and the dreams’ll havta wait.
Hurry hurry hurry!
that is all my life’s about
Perfect perfect perfect!
that is all i’m supposed to be
Stress stress stress!
that is all i am
The boy, no more than five, ran. Ran until his feet bled, ran until his lungs burned; he had to hurry, for if he did not, they all would die. He sucked in a deep breath of hot, ashy air, coughing hoarsely. He would not make it…
I was in a hurry to get off the gray street and faded city lights, to disappear down a flight of stairs and into a small doorway. Away from the claustrophobia of the people all dressed in black, who silently fight you for walking space on the sidewalk, who forcefully ignore you and avoid making eye contact at all cost because they’re in a rush. I would slip below into a quiet shop like a seal into water, where I could breathe finally. Where it would smell like old books and fresh coffee. Where the gentle lights would feel like forgiveness from the harsh cold and empty hostility outside. Pull up a stool and relax, let your hands chapped from the cold wrap around a hot mug of steamed milk and espresso.
Come on, man. Don’t wait up. You can’t enjoy your life if you’re always rushing through like that. It’s not healthy. Half of fun of an experience is the journey it takes to get there. Don’t be scared. Go! Don’t look back!
She hurried down the sidewalk, heels clicking impatiently against the concrete and subway grates. The cars hissed on the shining pavement, spitting the rainwater as they went. Each step was more and more rushed as she worked her way up the street against the headlights, each breath bringing her closer and closer to home. Where she could lay on the couch and pretend, just for a second, that she was safe.
As I hurry along the dark alley, I glance backwards, wary of my stalker. My breath is escaping me, my lungs are deflated. I can’t run forever.
so far i have been in no hurry to get things moving, to begin the progression in my life. now that time starts to wind down and deadlines come near, it is hard to fathom just how much there is to be done.
Hurry, hurry, hurry! The festival is about to start! Ryan pulls on his socks and runs out all a flurry, wool cap pulled over his ears. Hurry, hurry, hurry! He grabs a slice of buttered and jam-ed bread to eat. His mother waits for him by the door. Outside, the sky is lit with greens and reds. Ribbons streak the air and across windows. Old men dance in the street and girls toss coins to clowns and acrobats. And everywhere, the sweet, sweet smell of cinnamon.
Hurry up. I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date. The date is: boom, the day I get my braces off. I rush into that busy, steaming office and get the metal yanked from teeth. “My baby’s a woman,” my mother croons (just kidding). But Mikayla really did squeal when she saw me. She was the only one who was excited. Was she more excited than i was?
You wouldn’t believe the trouble I’m in. Really. Try imagining waking up on Christmas morning, snow floating gently past the window, mince pies roaring in an open fire, the tree dancing drunkenly round the mistletoe, then think about discovering there’s nothing under that tree. Zip, zilch, nada, rien de tout, sweet fanny adams in any language.
Now do you understand why I’m in a hurry, you truly annoying, geographically-challenged, cerebrally absent, ‘you’regoingtogetmekilledbymychildrenandmywifeonDecember25th’ taxi driver. Don’t you dare ask for a tip or I may be forced to gift wrap that meter and implant it up your chimney. Sideways.
“Well, if you’re going to do me in, why don’t you put a hurry on it. This shit filled floor is no picnic site. So if you’re going to do it, get the fuck to it, will ya? Jensen groaned.
The barn fell silent. Almost as if doing him in was the LAST thing anyone was thinking.
i hurry along
everyday i hurry
i hurry through sleep
i hurry through my meals
i hurry through traffic
i hurry through work
i hurry though reading
i hurry through my own thoughts
sometimes i just dont want to hurry
i just want to be me and breathe, but i still hurry through that.
Oh god, she had to hurry or she’d miss him. She would never forgive herself if she missed one moment of his time before he left her. Just one more touch, one more kiss…it would be worth it, she promised herself. A tear slipped from her eye, and she reprimanded herself. No! She would not cry…she could not, for -his- sake.
Time moves too slow for some,
those constantly in a hurry,
to speed up their lives,
to get to the next day,
the next month,
the next year.
Those who worry with the unknown,
wanting to dive deep
within the magicians hat,
and find the rabbit
before the wand is waved.
Time is a blessing and a curse.
A back handed compliment.
You need it to live,
and yet, it is what kills us
in the end.
There’s not much time and there isn’t any time and time seems to really be running out quite rapidly, faster than before really, and I don’t know how to slow it down or stop it but I know there must be a way because things just can’t continue the way that they have been continuing lately and have been for some time now, they just can’t.
i got to hurry uo because if not im going to be late for the show tonight, and if im late for the show tonight then Harry will kill me because we where sipoused to see each other today. Wish me luck
You can never be sure whether you are living in the moment or trying to hurry through life.
Like everything is one big competition to acquire the most things or satisfied feelings in life.
Relax and embrace what your life gives you.
“Hurry, hurry!” he yelled in my ear. I knew our time was running low, but I couldn’t afford to mess this up. Not like the last time. The last time I’d made the fatal error of rushing, and landed us with ten years in prison.
Hurry. I don’t hurry because I am late I hurry because I am excited. Hurrying because you are late is poor planning and conducive to self sabatoge. Hurrying because you are excited is great.
I ran around in a hurry, trying to find all of those last minute objects one usually needs for a road trip.
“Did anyone see the car keys?” i shouted. Megan groaned.
“Rea, why do you always lose them at the worst times?” I sighed. My trips with my collage roommates usually started with a spat-usually with me as the cause.
Stood in line and thought about how much of a hurry I wasn’t in. The world swarmed around me, but I cared nothing for the bustle and hustle. The finish line is but a dirt nap, we’ll all get there eventually.
very nice one picture basically and I believe in symbolism and wish I could use it.no knows about it , don’t freak
I’m in a hurry. Everything’s happening at once. The dog is doing his dance, I have to render some video, I have to pee and it’s raining. Then the wife and I have to drive into the city on a warm December evening to meet with friends, you know, holiday stuff. Joy to the world! But first, clown videos and dog poo.
I hurried along the grassy hills, moving as fast as the Lord would deem my body to move, calling on the Spirit to fill me, to reveal the plans of my God, to give me the strength to ever utter the sounds of the story of Christ Jesus. I had to hurry, to proclaim the rightful king, not to brag about my own inheritance, for I was the inheritance, a prize unto my Lord, fully sanctified more each day, until the time of His coming. The race was fast under my feet, and I would not stop until the day had been won.
Rush. Rush. Push past that guy, slip right past her. As long as you get there before the others, you are fine. Faster, faster. The oldest is almost there. You have to beat him. You have to. Losing may mean death.