Route? what about route? I mean whats the question? is there a question? Like a route to school a designed way to get from one point to the other? cause i dont understand what is toposed to be going on here…am i stopoed to write about a route or what a route is. I mean to go to one place you must pass all these other designated locations to get to your destination?
i took a walk one day
no where in mind
just a circle, maybe
i’d jhust walk and walk
i’d find my own route
through the town,
through all the world
and through out life.
all just one route.
no maps, no gps, just wherever my heart led me.
James took the same route to work every day. It was a straight and boring drive. Early in the morning, when it was still dark out and no one else was on the road. He enjoyed the quiet of having the road to himself. Until one day he was so tired. He hadn’t slept the night before. Nod by nod, the car eased it’s way off the road he knew so well.
The route is short, but so familiar. He never went the full way and always parted a little before she reached her destination, except for that one time. Did he only accompany her that once because he was asked? She didn’t know. She secretly enjoyed every second they spent together on her way home, until the moment she said goodbye.
Luke crawled out of the car. Disoriented and hurting, he could smell fuel. His hearing was muddled but Luke thought he heard a moan. But his best friend Asher was no where to be seen.
Great Grandpa was the paper man for most of his life. After he retired it was his life. He’d be up at dawn to do Route 1, or stop in for coffee on his way to do Route 4. He knew them all by heart. Could do it in his sleep. Into his last years, when he couldn’t drive any longer, he walked those routes. Fast Eddie they mocked him. But, they missed him when he passed on to that paper route in the sky.
There are many routes through life. Many focus on the destination, but that’s not what life is about. The journey, what you see on your route, that’s what matters. Sometimes a route may not be what you expected it to be. But you don’t have to stay on that one. Forge your own path.
It’s the way you go. It’s a path that can be taken, ignored, built on, modified, abandoned. It’s everything and nothing all rolled into perfection, because that’s what a route is. It’s a road. it’s perfection. It’s the way to travel and go, to see the world and be what you can, or what you can’t. It’s potential and limit and perfection all on the way.
As the group of us huddled around the TV, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d miss out on another perfect moment. Then it happened. Her arm swung around my neck and my drink fell to the floor, but she pressed her lips to mine foreboding a great new year. Naturally, in the car on the way home, I said it was nothing. Modesty, as I had been told, was often the best route to travel.
His body was a road map. Tracing the blue veins in his arms all the way to his torso, her fingers tapped on his jugular vein before her sharp eyes caught sight of a peculiar scar. Soon her tongue was tracing its way along the silvery route embedded in his sternum. It was delicious.
take the route that you know
take the route that is unknown
explore and engage and see what happens next
hoe for a surprise and who knows what youl find
People say life is a journey, and everyone’s en route, but
I think it’s bullshit. Be where you want to be. Fuck roads. Life is
a bunch of still frames, paintings, it’s not a road, that’s stupid
as hell. Roads don’t let you pay attention to what’s around. You
can’t explore roads. But paintings, you can stare and stare, go
over every detail until you’ve memorized it. That’s what my
memories are like. Not a goddamn road.
“Man, you really took the scenic route there,” Laurie laughed aloud.
It was 3 in the morning, the first day of the new year. I had ventured out into this forest around 11PM the night before, and… well, let’s just say I thought we would have been out sooner. I embarrassedly smiled at this as my superego continued loudly, gesturing incredulously at the icy landscape around us. “We’re, what, four damn hours out of the way?”
“It was worth it, though,” I replied simply. “Four hours doesn’t seem like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but… well, those were a pretty awesome four hours.”
“You said it,” the violet shade grinned, as we kept walking. “Just… let’s be a little more direct next time, all right? You do need sleep.”
I couldn’t help but smile back as the snow fell, and turned back onto the main road.
It was a different route this time. I wasn’t used to it. He held my hand the entire way. I wanted to cry. He shook his head. I did. It wasn’t the same way we always went. I wasn’t use to it. I didn’t want to go that way. I cried. I cried. I cried. He hit me. Hit me? Hit me! I continued to cry and then he burst into tears. The man that had taken me was crying. And then I saw what he had in his hand. And then that route, the beginning was different than the end.
66. which if you add one six makes it 666, which is sort of scary thinking about the devil. or call him satan or lucifer. i used to call my sister lucifer, but i had no clue who lucifer was so i hope now i am not going to go to hell because i don’t think i did much because technically, i wasn’t referring to him at all.
A trip to South Carolina. I really thought I loved the girl. Delicate creatures ours, not their appetites. How easily we give ourselves away. I don’t even care enough to text her back.
I think about routes places, and i think about the route home I take whenever I travel. It could be by bus, by train, by car, by plane, by bike or just the walk home from a night out. It should be a calming walk especially after a long absence and its the best route to take.
The route was bumpy, I mean really bumpy. I couldn’t even seem to think, couldn’t focus! The road just kept winding and creeping along. Bringing me closer and closer to the top, where I could never turn my back on.
Paths are ever-changing. It doesn’t make any sense to make plans. Keep your pen steady and write without the thought that it takes to breath. This is a route that I will always take.
Everyone has different routes. They will all cross eventually, creating a web around the entire world. If everybody dipped their feet in a different paint and went about their routes and routines for one day, the patterns would be amazingly beautiful :)
Route, a simple one taken down the wrong road. Isaiah sighed as he looked behind him, noticing that the pack of ravenous dogs had grown smaller. It was a sad, pathetic attempt really, but they were lost from him… And he was lost from his knowledge of direction. He didn’t know where in hell he was, but he knew, he’d taken the wrong route.
seriously? i already had this word. is this the only word on the whole website?? i dont know what else to say about route. its such a boring word! my life is on a very boring route right now because the only word im getting is route! arrgggggggg
I didn’t know what I was going to find at the end of the route, only that it wouldn’t be pretty. It would be gruesome and ugly and it would put everyone in danger. But its too late to turn back now, I’m too far gone.
route…you gotta get your kicks, on route 66. yup thats pretty much all i got. um take the route less traveled, or is that the road less traveled? i hope i get a better word next time.
the route of the plane was completely off track, therefore sending all the passengers in a depressing state of shock. a man with a yellow hat couldn’t help but be impressed by the woman next to him, her sincerity and calmness helped him. He wasn’t aware that a situation like this could then be set to peace.
So today we took a route to school. It was a new route, and I was very unfamiliar with it.
However, I had a GPS, and that helped lots. The route was a curvy route, twisting with unfamiliar paths. I was glad when I finally made it to my destination.
Life is full of them. There is no right or wrong route, just what is in your heart. Any way you choose, it will be with you forever.You can’t retrace it, but you can learn from it. And it’s not always easy. But it can be beautiful. And in the end, we will all follow the route to the same destination.
Going along. Just find a path. Anything is safer than the previous. Anything is more held together. Anything is – coming to an end sooner than you’d expect. Run. The bridge is in ruins. Good luck on the other side.
I wanted to believe him but after what he had said on that car ride back home I may never believe him again. What he did was unforgivable wasn’t it? Or maybe I was to harsh. And maybe jumping out of that car was a bad idea.
I took the route to any empty river across the street. It seemed to be a short while so I thought, “why not, go figure”. After going through so much in the past month I haven’t decided whether or not to dump Liam. He seemed very insecure about him self and not willing to go through my ‘dry’ spells. Liam’s been also very standoffish’ but hey, a lot of people are. I don’t mind.
I looked at the route to the path of hell. Looked, evil, dark, and fun. I was always the person looking for danger, and it seemed that i found the king road. So I started skipping, laughing at all the thorns, and ugly things. Then i hit a door. i was wooden and brown, and it needed a key. if i could kick it open. Yeah right, I thought. I’m so ninja.
“Wanna open the door of death, young grasshopper?”
I turned around at the sound of a doll. It was actually a man, my age. Creepy!
“Yeah. Do you
The route to my house was dry and desolate. I walk along with my brother, wondering what time it was, when I look up to see… who? Who is that standing there? I grab hold of my brother to stop him, and suddenly, we crash to the ground.
The route was very long, and was probably going to take a long time to get through. Eventually I made it, and came to my grandmother’s house with the sweet taste of oatmeal cookies. Yum.
There are many routes in this world and you’re constantly having to decide which one to take. A lot of the time it may seem somewhat subconscious to choose your route but it’s a decision nontheless. Sometimes people take the wrong routes but then they’ll always find a route to get to whatever physical or metaphorical destination.
On route to new mexico driving along an abandoned railway, music lightly humming in the back of my mind. I heard nothing but the sweet melody of your song for miles of blistering pavement.
Route? what about route? I mean whats the question? is there a question? Like a route to school a designed way to get from one point to the other? cause i dont understand what is toposed to be going on here…am i stopoed to write about a route or what a route is. I mean to go to one place you must pass all these other designated locations to get to your destination?
i took a walk one day
no where in mind
just a circle, maybe
i’d jhust walk and walk
i’d find my own route
through the town,
through all the world
and through out life.
all just one route.
no maps, no gps, just wherever my heart led me.
James took the same route to work every day. It was a straight and boring drive. Early in the morning, when it was still dark out and no one else was on the road. He enjoyed the quiet of having the road to himself. Until one day he was so tired. He hadn’t slept the night before. Nod by nod, the car eased it’s way off the road he knew so well.
The route is short, but so familiar. He never went the full way and always parted a little before she reached her destination, except for that one time. Did he only accompany her that once because he was asked? She didn’t know. She secretly enjoyed every second they spent together on her way home, until the moment she said goodbye.
Luke crawled out of the car. Disoriented and hurting, he could smell fuel. His hearing was muddled but Luke thought he heard a moan. But his best friend Asher was no where to be seen.
They should have never taken the scenic route.
“That goddamn deer!” Luke cussed.
Great Grandpa was the paper man for most of his life. After he retired it was his life. He’d be up at dawn to do Route 1, or stop in for coffee on his way to do Route 4. He knew them all by heart. Could do it in his sleep. Into his last years, when he couldn’t drive any longer, he walked those routes. Fast Eddie they mocked him. But, they missed him when he passed on to that paper route in the sky.
There are many routes through life. Many focus on the destination, but that’s not what life is about. The journey, what you see on your route, that’s what matters. Sometimes a route may not be what you expected it to be. But you don’t have to stay on that one. Forge your own path.
It’s the way you go. It’s a path that can be taken, ignored, built on, modified, abandoned. It’s everything and nothing all rolled into perfection, because that’s what a route is. It’s a road. it’s perfection. It’s the way to travel and go, to see the world and be what you can, or what you can’t. It’s potential and limit and perfection all on the way.
As the group of us huddled around the TV, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d miss out on another perfect moment. Then it happened. Her arm swung around my neck and my drink fell to the floor, but she pressed her lips to mine foreboding a great new year. Naturally, in the car on the way home, I said it was nothing. Modesty, as I had been told, was often the best route to travel.
His body was a road map. Tracing the blue veins in his arms all the way to his torso, her fingers tapped on his jugular vein before her sharp eyes caught sight of a peculiar scar. Soon her tongue was tracing its way along the silvery route embedded in his sternum. It was delicious.
Which route to take? The fast one or the slow one? I guess that depends on whether you really want to get there or not. Just stall.
take the route that you know
take the route that is unknown
explore and engage and see what happens next
hoe for a surprise and who knows what youl find
—
route root
A route is a road that you take. It can be said “r-out” or “root”.
People say life is a journey, and everyone’s en route, but
I think it’s bullshit. Be where you want to be. Fuck roads. Life is
a bunch of still frames, paintings, it’s not a road, that’s stupid
as hell. Roads don’t let you pay attention to what’s around. You
can’t explore roads. But paintings, you can stare and stare, go
over every detail until you’ve memorized it. That’s what my
memories are like. Not a goddamn road.
“Man, you really took the scenic route there,” Laurie laughed aloud.
It was 3 in the morning, the first day of the new year. I had ventured out into this forest around 11PM the night before, and… well, let’s just say I thought we would have been out sooner. I embarrassedly smiled at this as my superego continued loudly, gesturing incredulously at the icy landscape around us. “We’re, what, four damn hours out of the way?”
“It was worth it, though,” I replied simply. “Four hours doesn’t seem like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but… well, those were a pretty awesome four hours.”
“You said it,” the violet shade grinned, as we kept walking. “Just… let’s be a little more direct next time, all right? You do need sleep.”
I couldn’t help but smile back as the snow fell, and turned back onto the main road.
It was a different route this time. I wasn’t used to it. He held my hand the entire way. I wanted to cry. He shook his head. I did. It wasn’t the same way we always went. I wasn’t use to it. I didn’t want to go that way. I cried. I cried. I cried. He hit me. Hit me? Hit me! I continued to cry and then he burst into tears. The man that had taken me was crying. And then I saw what he had in his hand. And then that route, the beginning was different than the end.
66. which if you add one six makes it 666, which is sort of scary thinking about the devil. or call him satan or lucifer. i used to call my sister lucifer, but i had no clue who lucifer was so i hope now i am not going to go to hell because i don’t think i did much because technically, i wasn’t referring to him at all.
I took the new route to his house. I saw a dead body on the way. My life will never be the same. Only in his arms to I feel like a real person again.
a way or a plan to get to where you are going.
A trip to South Carolina. I really thought I loved the girl. Delicate creatures ours, not their appetites. How easily we give ourselves away. I don’t even care enough to text her back.
I think about routes places, and i think about the route home I take whenever I travel. It could be by bus, by train, by car, by plane, by bike or just the walk home from a night out. It should be a calming walk especially after a long absence and its the best route to take.
The route was bumpy, I mean really bumpy. I couldn’t even seem to think, couldn’t focus! The road just kept winding and creeping along. Bringing me closer and closer to the top, where I could never turn my back on.
Paths are ever-changing. It doesn’t make any sense to make plans. Keep your pen steady and write without the thought that it takes to breath. This is a route that I will always take.
Everyone has different routes. They will all cross eventually, creating a web around the entire world. If everybody dipped their feet in a different paint and went about their routes and routines for one day, the patterns would be amazingly beautiful :)
Route, a simple one taken down the wrong road. Isaiah sighed as he looked behind him, noticing that the pack of ravenous dogs had grown smaller. It was a sad, pathetic attempt really, but they were lost from him… And he was lost from his knowledge of direction. He didn’t know where in hell he was, but he knew, he’d taken the wrong route.
seriously? i already had this word. is this the only word on the whole website?? i dont know what else to say about route. its such a boring word! my life is on a very boring route right now because the only word im getting is route! arrgggggggg
I didn’t know what I was going to find at the end of the route, only that it wouldn’t be pretty. It would be gruesome and ugly and it would put everyone in danger. But its too late to turn back now, I’m too far gone.
route…you gotta get your kicks, on route 66. yup thats pretty much all i got. um take the route less traveled, or is that the road less traveled? i hope i get a better word next time.
the route of the plane was completely off track, therefore sending all the passengers in a depressing state of shock. a man with a yellow hat couldn’t help but be impressed by the woman next to him, her sincerity and calmness helped him. He wasn’t aware that a situation like this could then be set to peace.
So today we took a route to school. It was a new route, and I was very unfamiliar with it.
However, I had a GPS, and that helped lots. The route was a curvy route, twisting with unfamiliar paths. I was glad when I finally made it to my destination.
Life is full of them. There is no right or wrong route, just what is in your heart. Any way you choose, it will be with you forever.You can’t retrace it, but you can learn from it. And it’s not always easy. But it can be beautiful. And in the end, we will all follow the route to the same destination.
Going along. Just find a path. Anything is safer than the previous. Anything is more held together. Anything is – coming to an end sooner than you’d expect. Run. The bridge is in ruins. Good luck on the other side.
I wanted to believe him but after what he had said on that car ride back home I may never believe him again. What he did was unforgivable wasn’t it? Or maybe I was to harsh. And maybe jumping out of that car was a bad idea.
I took the route to any empty river across the street. It seemed to be a short while so I thought, “why not, go figure”. After going through so much in the past month I haven’t decided whether or not to dump Liam. He seemed very insecure about him self and not willing to go through my ‘dry’ spells. Liam’s been also very standoffish’ but hey, a lot of people are. I don’t mind.
I looked at the route to the path of hell. Looked, evil, dark, and fun. I was always the person looking for danger, and it seemed that i found the king road. So I started skipping, laughing at all the thorns, and ugly things. Then i hit a door. i was wooden and brown, and it needed a key. if i could kick it open. Yeah right, I thought. I’m so ninja.
“Wanna open the door of death, young grasshopper?”
I turned around at the sound of a doll. It was actually a man, my age. Creepy!
“Yeah. Do you
The route to my house was dry and desolate. I walk along with my brother, wondering what time it was, when I look up to see… who? Who is that standing there? I grab hold of my brother to stop him, and suddenly, we crash to the ground.
The route was very long, and was probably going to take a long time to get through. Eventually I made it, and came to my grandmother’s house with the sweet taste of oatmeal cookies. Yum.
There are many routes in this world and you’re constantly having to decide which one to take. A lot of the time it may seem somewhat subconscious to choose your route but it’s a decision nontheless. Sometimes people take the wrong routes but then they’ll always find a route to get to whatever physical or metaphorical destination.
On route to new mexico driving along an abandoned railway, music lightly humming in the back of my mind. I heard nothing but the sweet melody of your song for miles of blistering pavement.
a way to go when no one is there, a place at which you traverse, the path untrodden by some but exposed to many