I feel like I’m going to accomplish all of my goals later than I want to because I can’t figure out how to be productive. Not just productive when I feel like it, but inherently productive. I hate that this is always where my mind goes. I really need to fix and it and DO SOMETHING instead of just whining. I don’t even know where to start.
lots of things can stand in your way time rain lack of money or confidence but in this case it was far more than i could overcome alone so i gave up essentially i threw in the towel and wished that i didn’t have to but i did because you gave me no choice you gave so little even when you felt much more things could change but they won’t and as this year continues just as last year did i hope you realize that besides being too late, you haven’t changed. you’re just the same as you’ve always been, hurting not caring and alone.
i am late for shool. i’ll get a detention. my parents will be upset. it’ll probably be their fault. i dont know how much time is left. umm. late. i dont want it to be too late. too late to be forgiven. umm. what else? nothing.
the police on thanksgiving, and it’s just a friendly visit;
a man that remembers you when you were young, and maybe this is an uncle,
here is a boy talking to me about mountain houses, summer houses, beachfront sales properties, so quickly we have fallen from our first hellos
(passenger seat says, will you come in
would you like me to?
kinda, a little bit)
trapping fast drivers into meeting parents like the person you have loved will suddenly change, you beat me on thanksgiving alone
It was too late to do anything. They already had her. And she was already dead. Well, not really dead. But close to dead.
Not close enough.
Screams.
Blood.
Oh, the nightmares.
I would never be the same again.
Remind me why I torture people for a living?
Late late late. It seems I’m always late. I’m not exactly sure whether it’s due to legitimate time management issues, or attempting to live under the stereotype that I am always late.
i still remember the day i late for the first time on wednesday morning. i was not looking into your eyes. i was afraid your eyes would stare at me, looking for any misplaced thing, the faults, the sins. i was afraid you would found love in my eyes, the sins that i always hide from you, from my heart, from my soul.
I don’t want to be too late for anything. I don’t want to miss things. I want to be early and present and there. If I miss chances and am late for opportnities it might just break my heart. Don’t ever be too careful. Just say it now cause it might be too late in just a few seconds. Be proactive. Make it count, make it work, don’t let it pass you by. Time is beautiful, don’t waste it.
I always have a tendency of being late. I’m not sure why, and it’s actually just come to the point where I’m just fufilling the fact that others expect me to be late, as opposed to being late due to poor time m
I’m late, I’m late! For a very important date! I hate being late it makes me want to cry and feels like my body is going to collapse in on itself. When I think of being late I think about when people are pregnant or get in trouble. If you’re late in nursing school you get a “counseling note.” Give me a damn break! I hope I’m not late…or never late….at least at the right time I want to be.
I was late for the first time in my life. One the most important day as well, I had my finals today. I was screwed, if I was late I’d have to retake next week with the junkies and the other idiots that roam the hallways of our magnificent High School, brilliantly named Leeds High.
She had been too late so many times. She had been too late saving her husband, too late saving her daughter, and too late saving her lover. They had all died.
Only one, fate had returned. And she groveled and thanked whatever force responsible, every day.
I was late to class the other day. I hate being late. I have this oct about being on time so much that I usually show up to class about 35 minutes earlier then I should. If i am running late, I will get stressed and have so much anxiety.
There is something so very awful about being late. Late for coffee, late for drinks, late for your period. Being late never means anything good. That said, I am a chronically 5-minutes-late sort of person. It’s not that I don’t KNOW when I’m supposed to arrive somewhere….I do. I just always seem to plan five minutes later than I know I should. It’s the difference of leaving ten minutes earlier, something I’m utterly capable of…though it never seems to happen. Fuck. What an awful way to be- five minutes late. On the nose. Always. This is one of the things about myself I like the least. Five minutes late is NO better than twenty minutes late. It sounds better on paper, but it makes me just as lazy of a human being.
i am late for school. when you’re late you get in trouble. JULI IS ALWAYS LATE for the bus. it is currently late at night. I like late night at champlain college. late is a four letter word. it reminds me of lattes. lattes are super yummy. my dog sleeps when it is late. weird commercials are on late at night.
carol anne is pregnant with a baby, i don’t like babies. they are smelly and they cry a lot and they cost too much money. i would rather buy clothes and
My deepest thoughts tend to rise with the moon. The later it gets the more I am consumed. When the sun rises up above the atmosphere, I must make myself perfectly clear. I will not wait here.
and after about 10 seconds I start typing. I think waiting until it is too late to take action, perfectionism,and procrastination are dangerous for lawyers.
“Holy shit, holy shit, I’ve gotta go, holy shit!” Anna practically screamed, running and rushing about her cluttered household. Dogs starred nervously, watching their master prance about like she was stepping on red hot coals that were enchanting her mind.
Im late to school alot. I get a lot of shit for it, but Its really hard to get there on time. Its not completely my fault, I live really far away and have to walk 4 miles. Whatever, Ill show them how far in life ill get. Im a genius.
I am late I am very worried, what will happen if I don’t make it ? Will I become a mother if I am this late ? What will become of the person entering this forsaken world?
I will not rest until I know that I am not late , my fear is possessing me I am drowned in it , thoughts trespass my mind making me feel sick and scared. Scared of what might happen to the “late” . Hurry up hurry up you’re late for an important date. A date which you must follow unless you want to drive me insane . Period
I often dream that I’ll be late to work. It’s a terrible thing to have to wake up early. The worst the to wake up in a constant state of confusion. “Am I late? Do I even work today?”
three…twoo……onnnnnnnne…. very relevant, as now is the only time that is, and to be not somewhere, but here, is natural, but to hesitate means that the past or future is creeping into the present, mind the now, and go!
I’m always late to things and I don’t know why. Laziness? Apathy? I really don’t know.
Maybe I don’t sleep enough. Or sleep too much. Maybe I should write about it… Who knows why. One theory for my tardiness is that I fight dragons every morning.
one day , when you wake up of your daydreams
one day one you think of what you have
when you look back at what you did
when you remember what you “Should”,”Could”,”Would” have done
you will realize it’s now too late.
But fear not my friend ,
now you know your future and can change it if you do the right actions
To be late is never a good thing unless of course you intend to miss something you don’t enjoy. Missing the bus always sucks. Sleeping through class is even worse.
She’s late. So very late. Her clock is slow, the arrows falling off and folding backwards. She’s late. So very late. Everything is wrong. She is late. So very late. The clock lost it arrows and she’ll loose her mind if she sees the time. How could she have fallen so behind?
It’s something I tend to be, it’s also something I hate to be. I try to cut it out of my routine because it only leaves me with the feeling of failure and rushing, and I hate to rush.
“its late..” she spoke, the words trailed off her tongue. She did not want to go even if the night fell into mornings breeze. He was all she wanted to sleep with, tucked in her arms on the couch that was much too small. She knew it was not going to last forever so any bit of him she could soak up was all that she needed.
The day was late, and the sky was dark. The moon was shining and the stars were lit up like an ambulance flying down the street. Who knows where it was going, but I hoped it would get there in time to save who ever was in need. A dog was barking across the street from me, and I couldn’t tell what it was barking at.
Being late tends to be a hot topic. Late for an appointment. Late for a meeting. I think being late is another phrase for being stressed. When you’re late, you hurry as much as possible. But to whomever, it doesn’t matter how late you are. Just that you ARE late. So stop being late, be early :) Save the stress!
I never thought that I would fail a test this way. My teacher never thought of me as punctual, but always considered me to be a good student. How many times will I disappoint people?
I’m late, I’m late, I’m late for a very important date. Worry rushing through me, fueling my legs. Adrenaline pumps through my viens, i can hear my heart thumping as my arms are pumping. I have to get there its a matter of life and death
late to the lollygrove on the wind trap of my man sister’s baby boy who was born into a worm who weaves clouds. when the bigot bragged on the basty banter, we lavished in the larking broom for the time to tomb on the right ole way for our jolly good days when the latrine laughed for my merry red lips.
It was late whe she came in. It felt just like I had been waiting for hours. Time slept by in this weir dark place, like a waterfall dropping through darkness.
Look how late it is
With our sun high in the sky
Shadows shrunken,
Small circles beneath our feet.
We laugh at the night
For thinking that it could darken
The light that we share.
i am late at everything; late to start, late to finish, even (especially) the important things. i cannot do anything, except assemble images and occasionally drink tea and write things.
of late, i have been late.
the late cee (the late cee’s awareness that she has to work to survive)
I feel like I’m going to accomplish all of my goals later than I want to because I can’t figure out how to be productive. Not just productive when I feel like it, but inherently productive. I hate that this is always where my mind goes. I really need to fix and it and DO SOMETHING instead of just whining. I don’t even know where to start.
lots of things can stand in your way time rain lack of money or confidence but in this case it was far more than i could overcome alone so i gave up essentially i threw in the towel and wished that i didn’t have to but i did because you gave me no choice you gave so little even when you felt much more things could change but they won’t and as this year continues just as last year did i hope you realize that besides being too late, you haven’t changed. you’re just the same as you’ve always been, hurting not caring and alone.
i am late for shool. i’ll get a detention. my parents will be upset. it’ll probably be their fault. i dont know how much time is left. umm. late. i dont want it to be too late. too late to be forgiven. umm. what else? nothing.
the police on thanksgiving, and it’s just a friendly visit;
a man that remembers you when you were young, and maybe this is an uncle,
here is a boy talking to me about mountain houses, summer houses, beachfront sales properties, so quickly we have fallen from our first hellos
(passenger seat says, will you come in
would you like me to?
kinda, a little bit)
trapping fast drivers into meeting parents like the person you have loved will suddenly change, you beat me on thanksgiving alone
It was too late to do anything. They already had her. And she was already dead. Well, not really dead. But close to dead.
Not close enough.
Screams.
Blood.
Oh, the nightmares.
I would never be the same again.
Remind me why I torture people for a living?
Late late late. It seems I’m always late. I’m not exactly sure whether it’s due to legitimate time management issues, or attempting to live under the stereotype that I am always late.
i still remember the day i late for the first time on wednesday morning. i was not looking into your eyes. i was afraid your eyes would stare at me, looking for any misplaced thing, the faults, the sins. i was afraid you would found love in my eyes, the sins that i always hide from you, from my heart, from my soul.
I don’t want to be too late for anything. I don’t want to miss things. I want to be early and present and there. If I miss chances and am late for opportnities it might just break my heart. Don’t ever be too careful. Just say it now cause it might be too late in just a few seconds. Be proactive. Make it count, make it work, don’t let it pass you by. Time is beautiful, don’t waste it.
I always have a tendency of being late. I’m not sure why, and it’s actually just come to the point where I’m just fufilling the fact that others expect me to be late, as opposed to being late due to poor time m
I’m late, I’m late! For a very important date! I hate being late it makes me want to cry and feels like my body is going to collapse in on itself. When I think of being late I think about when people are pregnant or get in trouble. If you’re late in nursing school you get a “counseling note.” Give me a damn break! I hope I’m not late…or never late….at least at the right time I want to be.
Being late…late……
I was late for the first time in my life. One the most important day as well, I had my finals today. I was screwed, if I was late I’d have to retake next week with the junkies and the other idiots that roam the hallways of our magnificent High School, brilliantly named Leeds High.
She had been too late so many times. She had been too late saving her husband, too late saving her daughter, and too late saving her lover. They had all died.
Only one, fate had returned. And she groveled and thanked whatever force responsible, every day.
I was late to class the other day. I hate being late. I have this oct about being on time so much that I usually show up to class about 35 minutes earlier then I should. If i am running late, I will get stressed and have so much anxiety.
There is something so very awful about being late. Late for coffee, late for drinks, late for your period. Being late never means anything good. That said, I am a chronically 5-minutes-late sort of person. It’s not that I don’t KNOW when I’m supposed to arrive somewhere….I do. I just always seem to plan five minutes later than I know I should. It’s the difference of leaving ten minutes earlier, something I’m utterly capable of…though it never seems to happen. Fuck. What an awful way to be- five minutes late. On the nose. Always. This is one of the things about myself I like the least. Five minutes late is NO better than twenty minutes late. It sounds better on paper, but it makes me just as lazy of a human being.
i am late for school. when you’re late you get in trouble. JULI IS ALWAYS LATE for the bus. it is currently late at night. I like late night at champlain college. late is a four letter word. it reminds me of lattes. lattes are super yummy. my dog sleeps when it is late. weird commercials are on late at night.
carol anne is pregnant with a baby, i don’t like babies. they are smelly and they cry a lot and they cost too much money. i would rather buy clothes and
My deepest thoughts tend to rise with the moon. The later it gets the more I am consumed. When the sun rises up above the atmosphere, I must make myself perfectly clear. I will not wait here.
and after about 10 seconds I start typing. I think waiting until it is too late to take action, perfectionism,and procrastination are dangerous for lawyers.
“Holy shit, holy shit, I’ve gotta go, holy shit!” Anna practically screamed, running and rushing about her cluttered household. Dogs starred nervously, watching their master prance about like she was stepping on red hot coals that were enchanting her mind.
Im late to school alot. I get a lot of shit for it, but Its really hard to get there on time. Its not completely my fault, I live really far away and have to walk 4 miles. Whatever, Ill show them how far in life ill get. Im a genius.
There’s blood on the carpet,
And stains on the walls.
There’s blood on the doorway,
And there’s blood in the halls.
There’s crimson on my lips,
And red in my eyes,
Scarlet stains on my hands,
And blood-splattered skies.
I’m a little confused;
I wonder how can it be,
That you’re the one dying –
But it’s too late for me?
I am late I am very worried, what will happen if I don’t make it ? Will I become a mother if I am this late ? What will become of the person entering this forsaken world?
I will not rest until I know that I am not late , my fear is possessing me I am drowned in it , thoughts trespass my mind making me feel sick and scared. Scared of what might happen to the “late” . Hurry up hurry up you’re late for an important date. A date which you must follow unless you want to drive me insane . Period
I often dream that I’ll be late to work. It’s a terrible thing to have to wake up early. The worst the to wake up in a constant state of confusion. “Am I late? Do I even work today?”
three…twoo……onnnnnnnne…. very relevant, as now is the only time that is, and to be not somewhere, but here, is natural, but to hesitate means that the past or future is creeping into the present, mind the now, and go!
I’m always late to things and I don’t know why. Laziness? Apathy? I really don’t know.
Maybe I don’t sleep enough. Or sleep too much. Maybe I should write about it… Who knows why. One theory for my tardiness is that I fight dragons every morning.
i am late.. i am late… i am very very LATE.. for a very important date.
the rabbit from alice in wonderland
one day , when you wake up of your daydreams
one day one you think of what you have
when you look back at what you did
when you remember what you “Should”,”Could”,”Would” have done
you will realize it’s now too late.
But fear not my friend ,
now you know your future and can change it if you do the right actions
To be late is never a good thing unless of course you intend to miss something you don’t enjoy. Missing the bus always sucks. Sleeping through class is even worse.
They were silenced by the looks. They knew what each glare meant. They kept quiet and turned to each other and smiled. “Let’s go!”
She’s late. So very late. Her clock is slow, the arrows falling off and folding backwards. She’s late. So very late. Everything is wrong. She is late. So very late. The clock lost it arrows and she’ll loose her mind if she sees the time. How could she have fallen so behind?
It’s something I tend to be, it’s also something I hate to be. I try to cut it out of my routine because it only leaves me with the feeling of failure and rushing, and I hate to rush.
“its late..” she spoke, the words trailed off her tongue. She did not want to go even if the night fell into mornings breeze. He was all she wanted to sleep with, tucked in her arms on the couch that was much too small. She knew it was not going to last forever so any bit of him she could soak up was all that she needed.
The day was late, and the sky was dark. The moon was shining and the stars were lit up like an ambulance flying down the street. Who knows where it was going, but I hoped it would get there in time to save who ever was in need. A dog was barking across the street from me, and I couldn’t tell what it was barking at.
Being late tends to be a hot topic. Late for an appointment. Late for a meeting. I think being late is another phrase for being stressed. When you’re late, you hurry as much as possible. But to whomever, it doesn’t matter how late you are. Just that you ARE late. So stop being late, be early :) Save the stress!
I never thought that I would fail a test this way. My teacher never thought of me as punctual, but always considered me to be a good student. How many times will I disappoint people?
I’m late, I’m late, I’m late for a very important date. Worry rushing through me, fueling my legs. Adrenaline pumps through my viens, i can hear my heart thumping as my arms are pumping. I have to get there its a matter of life and death
late to the lollygrove on the wind trap of my man sister’s baby boy who was born into a worm who weaves clouds. when the bigot bragged on the basty banter, we lavished in the larking broom for the time to tomb on the right ole way for our jolly good days when the latrine laughed for my merry red lips.
It was late whe she came in. It felt just like I had been waiting for hours. Time slept by in this weir dark place, like a waterfall dropping through darkness.
Look how late it is
With our sun high in the sky
Shadows shrunken,
Small circles beneath our feet.
We laugh at the night
For thinking that it could darken
The light that we share.
i am late at everything; late to start, late to finish, even (especially) the important things. i cannot do anything, except assemble images and occasionally drink tea and write things.
of late, i have been late.
the late cee (the late cee’s awareness that she has to work to survive)