The mystery surrounding my granddad still leaves me baffled, even after all of these long years of research. My kids – his great grandkids – will no doubt inherit the stacks and stacks of boxes, containing the files and snippits I’ve gathered over the years.
mystery, the intricacies we humans place ourselves in. As well studied are the animals, how little we know about ourselves. Friendships, romances, family, enemies, what creates and what binds us to people. Is there ever too much love or just too little hope? At what point do we shy away and become our own hermits ruling our own cave?
Mystery is unknown. Sherlock Homes is certainly mysterious. Many people think that being mysterious is a sexy thing. Mystery is intriguing and it is something you may not know a lot about. Mystery if trying to figure out something you cannot pinpoint.
I feel so lost but I like it, I need just that one more clue to find the mystery. What if i don’t like it? ignorance is bliss. I do love bliss. I need a mystery to keep me going, keep me involved keep me interested.
there was a mystery novel
in 2nd grade we used to write cpr books and someone wrote a mystery book
mystery is hard to type
halloween
pumpkins
sherlock holmes
good movie…
magnifying glass
forensics
i feel stressed..
mystery novels. i dont like them bc idk what is going on in them.
oh my love well that is life right there now isnt it my life is filled with plenty of mysteries and i would not have it any way by the way that is the name of a famous pua aritsts enough of that I am a mystery forever that is why i am so fun mystrey is fresh msytery keeps new mystery keeps us to the alivness!
My favorite mysteries are the Sherlock Holmes stories. They’re not even mysteries to me anymore, I know the ending of all of them. But they are so cold and foggy and full of sooty building fronts that I will love them no matter how many times I reread them.
its a mystery whats going on in your mind. you don’t tell anyone. not your parents, your sister, your best friends. not even me. the person you say you care about so much. why though. why don’t you open up. why don’t you let me in or let me help you. i’ll never understand, ever.
There a man in the attic. I don’t know how he got there. But he doesn’t seem to be breathing and I’m not quite sure what to do. The folks aren’t home–won’t be for another few days… In my mind, this would all work out and I wouldnt have to deal with it, but… My mind is far from reality… Maybe there really isnt a man in the attic, maybe its my imagination…
mysteriously mysterious.
I don’t know kwht to write
I am running out of time
running
through a forest
mysterious forest
of trees
and dog shit.
and there’s a commercial on the radio about condoms
I want some bbq flavored ones
I don’t know
what to write
yet again
they said I need a name and email
what the hell? I don’t know
bleh.
I would blow a lot more people
if they made those.
A mystery, something no man can solve. Simple yet complex, unsolvable to all but the best at this game. Intellect is the most useful tool in this game, as well as observation :D
It’s a mystery to me of what is going to happen. It’s all a total blur, in fact much less clear than that. I just leave it, though. I am happy with the present, and that’s all that matters, right? I will just live life as I feel like. We will see how that happens, but until the future, I will just not worry.
I like mystery stories. Agatha Christie. Sherlock Holmes. Plaid, and fedoras, and trenchcoats, and foggy city streets, and slick wet cobblestones, and murder and chills and fear and also Scooby Doo!
she looks into my eyes for a brief second while reaching over for a magazine, and continues her day. She leaves the office just as she did the first time. And on her way home, she has to cross the train tracks. The wheel of her bike gets stuck– just as she hears the fierce sound of the train rushing towards her. She ponders on what to do, as those intrepid moments that meant nothing to her, and those that meant everything to her; flashing before her eyes. The lights shine brightly as she stares, unable to move. And as the blood splatters– she finds herself back in the doctor’s office, repeating the day she dies over and over. The only way to escape it, is to break the spell — to stop herself from looking into my eyes for that brief moment.
It will forever be a mystery to me how fate can do such crazy things in our lives. Nothing is what it seems to be. The enigma of destiny envelopes us everywhere. It hits us when we least expect it.
the darkening shadows shrouded her in silence. she felt the bitter swell of the unknown in the back of her throat. the sickening crack of mystery and illusion as it filled her bones. she blinked.
Mr. Mustard, in the guest house, with a candle stick… and with the swiftly asserted accusation, the evening’s single noteworthy affair was brought to a conclusion.
I walked over to him. He was standing alone. I told him I knew everything and that he was no longer a mystery, and therefore, I never wanted to see him again.
You. You are a mystery to me. How do you work? Why are you here? You mind-boggle me. I just don’t understand. Do you see me? Or am I kidding myself?
I can try to be the Sherlock Holmes to you mystery, but I think I’m only a Watson. Always confused until you explain and unravel yourself for me. I want to know.
Mysteries are awesome and fun. I love them, i find them so interesting and intriguing. Some people think that when you don’t know what happened or who did it isn’t cool but it sure is fun well unless it’s about yourself… lol
It’s still unclear to me why I’m afraid of you. I think I always will be. I can’t shift my vision enough to see beyond. Enough to see inside what it was that once was so…attractive. I’m attentive, I’m inventive, but still I can’t seem to come up with what has set us apart. I’m confused, exactly why we fell out of favor, and I know that if it comes down to it, I’ll blame you, because you’re more insane than I will ever be. Than I have ever been. I’m sorry.
Why i ever liked him is a mystery to me. i don’t know what it is about him that makes me so attracted to him. There is so much hurt in everything that reminds me of him, and its so hard. i like him so much, but i can’t let myself fall for him because how can i love someone who is associated with so much pain? he doesn’t even make me happy. most of the time he makes me feel like shit. but yet that doesn’t matter because i like him, so much. it astonishes me that tthe guys we don’t even want to have feelings for, are the people we can’t get over. fuck him. fuck his feelings. fuck everything we’ve had. fuck it all.
Mysteries are fun and cool. You never know what you’re going to get with a mystery. Sometimes things happens and you don’t know how to explain and don’t know any answers to. This can be frustrating to some but I love it.Mysteries are the best and they lever you in suspense.
How is it that my cat Tyler can sleep 16 hours a day and still be normal? If I did that I’d be considered lazy and/or very depressed, but for cats, it’s OK. One of the mysteries of life.
It is a mystery how some children survive to adulthood. Either their parents are so inept or the child is so annoying that it is just a mystery that they survive. Sometimes my child IS one of these children.
The road twisted like black smoke in the sky, the trees clawing at horizon with gnarled fingers. Bright car lights highlighted the foggy distance and I wondered what was out there, beyond the edges of my rational thought, in the darkness where my fear lurked, waiting. Something moved just outside my window and with a small wail I scooted back against my boyfriend and felt his arms come around me as he promised the tow truck would be here soon.
The sky was blue, and the sun was as bright as ever this day. And as the meteor came close to earth, ready to destroy everything, Lindsey wondered, about all the mysteries she had yet to see in the world.
Where are my keys that I left right here on the table? I have searched everywhere and cannot find them. Did you move them, honey? Did you maybe pick them up thinking they were yours?
The mystery surrounding my granddad still leaves me baffled, even after all of these long years of research. My kids – his great grandkids – will no doubt inherit the stacks and stacks of boxes, containing the files and snippits I’ve gathered over the years.
mystery, the intricacies we humans place ourselves in. As well studied are the animals, how little we know about ourselves. Friendships, romances, family, enemies, what creates and what binds us to people. Is there ever too much love or just too little hope? At what point do we shy away and become our own hermits ruling our own cave?
Mystery is unknown. Sherlock Homes is certainly mysterious. Many people think that being mysterious is a sexy thing. Mystery is intriguing and it is something you may not know a lot about. Mystery if trying to figure out something you cannot pinpoint.
a mystery
they act like its fantastic
imitations of their path are not fanatastic
kiasdfojgklasdjfsladfjsadklfjsladkjfkasdljfskldjfskldjflskadjflkj
You are mysterious. My mystery, my wonder. My eternal love.
Will I ever know you? Will anyone?
Let me in, darling. Let me see your soul.
I feel so lost but I like it, I need just that one more clue to find the mystery. What if i don’t like it? ignorance is bliss. I do love bliss. I need a mystery to keep me going, keep me involved keep me interested.
still as steps
i lowered into nirvana
where meaning fled
to quick to follow,
into the hollows
of mystery.
i aaaaaaalllllllready wrote this one like 5000 times. im not about to write it again because the exact same thing is on my mind as the first time…
there was a mystery novel
in 2nd grade we used to write cpr books and someone wrote a mystery book
mystery is hard to type
halloween
pumpkins
sherlock holmes
good movie…
magnifying glass
forensics
i feel stressed..
mystery novels. i dont like them bc idk what is going on in them.
oh my love well that is life right there now isnt it my life is filled with plenty of mysteries and i would not have it any way by the way that is the name of a famous pua aritsts enough of that I am a mystery forever that is why i am so fun mystrey is fresh msytery keeps new mystery keeps us to the alivness!
My favorite mysteries are the Sherlock Holmes stories. They’re not even mysteries to me anymore, I know the ending of all of them. But they are so cold and foggy and full of sooty building fronts that I will love them no matter how many times I reread them.
its a mystery whats going on in your mind. you don’t tell anyone. not your parents, your sister, your best friends. not even me. the person you say you care about so much. why though. why don’t you open up. why don’t you let me in or let me help you. i’ll never understand, ever.
There a man in the attic. I don’t know how he got there. But he doesn’t seem to be breathing and I’m not quite sure what to do. The folks aren’t home–won’t be for another few days… In my mind, this would all work out and I wouldnt have to deal with it, but… My mind is far from reality… Maybe there really isnt a man in the attic, maybe its my imagination…
row row row your boat gently down the *throat is slit and blood goes everywhere* :D
mysteriously mysterious.
I don’t know kwht to write
I am running out of time
running
through a forest
mysterious forest
of trees
and dog shit.
and there’s a commercial on the radio about condoms
I want some bbq flavored ones
I don’t know
what to write
yet again
they said I need a name and email
what the hell? I don’t know
bleh.
I would blow a lot more people
if they made those.
A mystery, something no man can solve. Simple yet complex, unsolvable to all but the best at this game. Intellect is the most useful tool in this game, as well as observation :D
It’s a mystery to me of what is going to happen. It’s all a total blur, in fact much less clear than that. I just leave it, though. I am happy with the present, and that’s all that matters, right? I will just live life as I feel like. We will see how that happens, but until the future, I will just not worry.
I like mystery stories. Agatha Christie. Sherlock Holmes. Plaid, and fedoras, and trenchcoats, and foggy city streets, and slick wet cobblestones, and murder and chills and fear and also Scooby Doo!
she looks into my eyes for a brief second while reaching over for a magazine, and continues her day. She leaves the office just as she did the first time. And on her way home, she has to cross the train tracks. The wheel of her bike gets stuck– just as she hears the fierce sound of the train rushing towards her. She ponders on what to do, as those intrepid moments that meant nothing to her, and those that meant everything to her; flashing before her eyes. The lights shine brightly as she stares, unable to move. And as the blood splatters– she finds herself back in the doctor’s office, repeating the day she dies over and over. The only way to escape it, is to break the spell — to stop herself from looking into my eyes for that brief moment.
Elementary my dear Watson.
Jinkys.
Zoonks.
Oh yeah just one more thing…
Someone ought to belt you in the mouth…
blues clues
It will forever be a mystery to me how fate can do such crazy things in our lives. Nothing is what it seems to be. The enigma of destiny envelopes us everywhere. It hits us when we least expect it.
the darkening shadows shrouded her in silence. she felt the bitter swell of the unknown in the back of her throat. the sickening crack of mystery and illusion as it filled her bones. she blinked.
“So wait, you’re telling me that you worship three gods?”
“No – no, look, it’s very simple. I worship ONE GOD – there are just three persons in this ONE GOD.”
“So … you’re saying your god is three people?”
“No!”
Mr. Mustard, in the guest house, with a candle stick… and with the swiftly asserted accusation, the evening’s single noteworthy affair was brought to a conclusion.
We lay together quietly, doing our best to unravel the mystery of our hearts.
I walked over to him. He was standing alone. I told him I knew everything and that he was no longer a mystery, and therefore, I never wanted to see him again.
You. You are a mystery to me. How do you work? Why are you here? You mind-boggle me. I just don’t understand. Do you see me? Or am I kidding myself?
I can try to be the Sherlock Holmes to you mystery, but I think I’m only a Watson. Always confused until you explain and unravel yourself for me. I want to know.
I’m sitting here with my girl relatives watching “The Real Wives of New Jersey” and the mystery of what lie is easier felt. Fun, fun, fun.
Mysteries are awesome and fun. I love them, i find them so interesting and intriguing. Some people think that when you don’t know what happened or who did it isn’t cool but it sure is fun well unless it’s about yourself… lol
It’s still unclear to me why I’m afraid of you. I think I always will be. I can’t shift my vision enough to see beyond. Enough to see inside what it was that once was so…attractive. I’m attentive, I’m inventive, but still I can’t seem to come up with what has set us apart. I’m confused, exactly why we fell out of favor, and I know that if it comes down to it, I’ll blame you, because you’re more insane than I will ever be. Than I have ever been. I’m sorry.
Why i ever liked him is a mystery to me. i don’t know what it is about him that makes me so attracted to him. There is so much hurt in everything that reminds me of him, and its so hard. i like him so much, but i can’t let myself fall for him because how can i love someone who is associated with so much pain? he doesn’t even make me happy. most of the time he makes me feel like shit. but yet that doesn’t matter because i like him, so much. it astonishes me that tthe guys we don’t even want to have feelings for, are the people we can’t get over. fuck him. fuck his feelings. fuck everything we’ve had. fuck it all.
Mysteries are fun and cool. You never know what you’re going to get with a mystery. Sometimes things happens and you don’t know how to explain and don’t know any answers to. This can be frustrating to some but I love it.Mysteries are the best and they lever you in suspense.
How is it that my cat Tyler can sleep 16 hours a day and still be normal? If I did that I’d be considered lazy and/or very depressed, but for cats, it’s OK. One of the mysteries of life.
Scooby-Doo loves a good mystery.
It is a mystery how some children survive to adulthood. Either their parents are so inept or the child is so annoying that it is just a mystery that they survive. Sometimes my child IS one of these children.
The road twisted like black smoke in the sky, the trees clawing at horizon with gnarled fingers. Bright car lights highlighted the foggy distance and I wondered what was out there, beyond the edges of my rational thought, in the darkness where my fear lurked, waiting. Something moved just outside my window and with a small wail I scooted back against my boyfriend and felt his arms come around me as he promised the tow truck would be here soon.
The sky was blue, and the sun was as bright as ever this day. And as the meteor came close to earth, ready to destroy everything, Lindsey wondered, about all the mysteries she had yet to see in the world.
mystery, you don’t know anything about it but you want to….
Where are my keys that I left right here on the table? I have searched everywhere and cannot find them. Did you move them, honey? Did you maybe pick them up thinking they were yours?
M is for Muffins.
Y is for Yaks.
S is for School.
T is for Talking.
E is for Elephants.
R is for Redrum.
Y is for yellow.