I just want to runaway. I don’t think I have ever felt this alone in my life. Nothing is going right. I feel like everything is a mess. I just want to curl up in my blankets and not wake up. My family doesn’t every call me, my boyfriend is too busy for me, and my best friend is becoming very successful with everything. I just feel like a failure. I know that I need to get better because I don’t really have an option…
The plane landed softly on the runway and slowed to a stop. She climbed down the stairs from the plane and hovered on the edge, foot hanging over and then stepped. This was the first step of her new life, on her new home.
The plane was ambling along and the passengers were settling into their pre-flight positions; tables up, chairs up, gripping onto the arm rest, closing their eyes, breathing heavily, deeply. In. Out. In. Out. It’s all going to be okay. Don’t panic.
It happens to be the most important strip of concrete in an airport system. But let’s not focus on what it does. What does it represent? For starters, the only landing option for a machine full of sleepy travelers. Think of what happens if the plane lands anywhere else — the possible damage and/or death that accompanies a detachment from convention.
The girl tried to runaway from her problems but then they just came chasing after her. She went around the corner across the bend, ”im safe this is the end”. But then her past just morphed into a tornado of black and took out everything all that she had in her path.
I walked along the runway thinking about what had happened previously. Seeing my wife fly, fly up to the sky for the first time was beautiful. Piloting the Air was her greatest dream. But something else struck me. Something very sinister as i paced forward on the black asphalt. Their were blood stains. Not big, but big enough to send a chill through the eyes of anyone who comes across. Following the stains, farther and farther I came to an open field. It was my darling. My sweet Love. She really had gone into the skys, forever.
The runaway girl was destined for adventure
Her mind so helplessy thought
to be a fool would be everything
everything that can not be brought
To have no rules for the World
to be a runaway girl
is me
and its exactly what i want
Runaway. An illusive phrase for so many people, stuck in boring baseless lives. The awnser to everything found in those two simple Syllables. Molly Peters sat at her desk gently tapping her pencil, thinking of exactly that. Oh the joys it would be to runaway to get far far away from here. A place without 15 miunte lunch breaks, and abusive bosses.
”The runaway slave and the boy who tried to save him on a thin Missippi raft, one of the iconic situations in literature” Mr Harrison Lamented. We had studied Huck Finn for the first three months. Actually studied isnt the right word, i should say excavated. Every, Event, Every Plot Point we were forced to scrunitize. Things that werent even in the story we had to discuss. Mark Twain would be sickened, i thought.
She was a Runway Model, dead at the age of 23. The Circumstances were baffling to police and the locals. Body Burned, except her nose and ears. What purpose was their of this?
the runway was a very beautiful place in March. Girls from all over the world came into the Paris Fashion show chasing their dream, their dream of being the next big thing. Few made it however, and the ones that did found themselves in worser sortws
I ran away from home yesterday, no joke. How coincidental. I left DFW, I am in Houston. I’m headed to New Orleans, to Florida, then north. I’m going wherever I damn well please. I truly ran seven months ago. And I have hope. For some reason, all of this running gives me hope.
model being whisked away on an airplane to their next photo shoot. That is me in another body and another life. Long hair and legs moving in the wind. Skin soft and supple unearthed by blemishes. Another life…another time…a different me.
I pressed to the window as the plane touched down, bumping on the runway. The air filled with the rush of the engines and my seatbelt held me back as I buoyed forward with the momentum.
I was going to see him. I was finally going to see him. Eight months of webcams, phone calls, and emails.
She despised the fashion industry, and yet there she was. It was all her mother’s fault really. If she wasn’t a big name designer, there was no way in hell that she would be somewhere that she didn’t want to be without trying. But she had a fashion show to run and all the crazy models were running around half naked, trying not to rip clothing that no sane normal person would ever wear- especially in public.
models walking models posing falling not thinking, flashes, “important” people watching, television, cameras, skinny bitches, handsome and hot male models
I glance behind me, but force myself to keep looking forwards. Never look back. Always ahead. I try not to remember the warm the house I’ve left behind me. The one with the windows that glow a golden yellow. I can smell the cookies and hot coco emitting from the living room. I pull my jacket hood over my head and continue forward, my face frozen against the biting cold.
train, one way track, Don’t think back, just go with it, feel the wind in your face, your heart racing, hands wide smile to the sun eyes closed. Shout it out loud, scream until your voice breaks. Leave everything behind, fresh start. Thrill, the unknown, just go. Go. GO!
We had to wait a long, long time to get off the runway and continue on the journey, but it was worth it. We made it, eventually. And there’s no way I’d go back. I have everything I need with me right now.
I thought this said runaway so I’m going to write about that word instead because I prefer it: A runaway is this little girl named Freya who likes strawberries more than anything. She has to be all dirty with torn up clothes and a curse because what else would she be running away from? Her self confidence is shit but a good love story will always fix her up. Unless she dies in the end.
The plane tires hit the tarmac and our sky speed is now taking us down the runway. We are home. Why does it feel so strange? So foreign? Shouldn’t we feel warm and welcome. Instead my heart feels like a stranger. I only hold a piece with me, the rest I left at my home where the trees are green and bananas ripe. In a land of sorrow and joy, so much more severe than our own.
Tavis looked at the blood covering the floor. This mind screamed at him to run away, get as far as he could from this monster. Before him, his sister lay atop a mangled corpse, her soft white skin soaked red. She looked….happy, as if the death she’d wreaked on the man beneath her was some elixir of euphoria she craved every moment of her life. She was a monster of blood and death, and his kind heart screamed at him to end her life before she was unleashed once more onto the human race. Through the inner anguish, Tavis realized he still loved his sister. He crossed the room and took her sleeping form into his arms, untangling her hair from the entrails they’d mingled with through her rolling in her sleep. He took her to the bed, and lay her there without a word. He would stay. He needed her as much as she needed him.
If she were to walk down the runway, she’d be hit by a landing plane. But she decides against strutting along the glittering asphalt just to talk to the man she loves, the man hailing the massive jet.
I ran down the long street. It seemed like the dim lights would go on forever, in this thick fog. Snow gently lit my way. My road. My runway. Behind me were only the footsteps, and those could I only think of as my past. I must run farther from my past; I must run, towards my future.
She ran. As she did so, her breath fogged up her view. She could barely see. It finally hit her that she was now a “runaway”. Something you hear on tv and read in books and newspapers. But here she was, running. And she didn’t dare stop.
I ran up the strip of cement, rushing to catch up with the plane. Even just a glimpse of my baby being flown away would be better than none. I knew that I wouldn’t get there in time, but I had to try. I had to.
I am a runaway. I am not happy with my life or family. I have been on the run since I was 12. I have been involved with many different things, but drugs and prostatution I have not. I have learned how to do many wonderful things and I have given my life to Jesus.
Catwalk models eating biscoff cookies given to them by old Delta flight attendants walking sexy like Christina Ricci. Shows go off the air too quickly.
Down the runway and up into the sky in a matter of moments. When I look down on the clouds, I decide that I never want to touch ground again. There’s nothing but problems down there.
I just want to runaway. I don’t think I have ever felt this alone in my life. Nothing is going right. I feel like everything is a mess. I just want to curl up in my blankets and not wake up. My family doesn’t every call me, my boyfriend is too busy for me, and my best friend is becoming very successful with everything. I just feel like a failure. I know that I need to get better because I don’t really have an option…
collision
The plane landed softly on the runway and slowed to a stop. She climbed down the stairs from the plane and hovered on the edge, foot hanging over and then stepped. This was the first step of her new life, on her new home.
Settle it on the runway!
The plane was ambling along and the passengers were settling into their pre-flight positions; tables up, chairs up, gripping onto the arm rest, closing their eyes, breathing heavily, deeply. In. Out. In. Out. It’s all going to be okay. Don’t panic.
It happens to be the most important strip of concrete in an airport system. But let’s not focus on what it does. What does it represent? For starters, the only landing option for a machine full of sleepy travelers. Think of what happens if the plane lands anywhere else — the possible damage and/or death that accompanies a detachment from convention.
words that come to mind:
model
fashion
design
create
special
fearless
fierce
beautiful
couture
daring
posh
extravagant
egotistical
She walked gracefully
Knees and ankles
Flowing hair
Garments
Straps and buckles
The lights flash
Curious eyes
Craning
necks
wait
to see the next design
dsdadsadadds
The girl tried to runaway from her problems but then they just came chasing after her. She went around the corner across the bend, ”im safe this is the end”. But then her past just morphed into a tornado of black and took out everything all that she had in her path.
Vividly i saw everything.
I walked along the runway thinking about what had happened previously. Seeing my wife fly, fly up to the sky for the first time was beautiful. Piloting the Air was her greatest dream. But something else struck me. Something very sinister as i paced forward on the black asphalt. Their were blood stains. Not big, but big enough to send a chill through the eyes of anyone who comes across. Following the stains, farther and farther I came to an open field. It was my darling. My sweet Love. She really had gone into the skys, forever.
The runaway girl was destined for adventure
Her mind so helplessy thought
to be a fool would be everything
everything that can not be brought
To have no rules for the World
to be a runaway girl
is me
and its exactly what i want
Runaway. An illusive phrase for so many people, stuck in boring baseless lives. The awnser to everything found in those two simple Syllables. Molly Peters sat at her desk gently tapping her pencil, thinking of exactly that. Oh the joys it would be to runaway to get far far away from here. A place without 15 miunte lunch breaks, and abusive bosses.
”The runaway slave and the boy who tried to save him on a thin Missippi raft, one of the iconic situations in literature” Mr Harrison Lamented. We had studied Huck Finn for the first three months. Actually studied isnt the right word, i should say excavated. Every, Event, Every Plot Point we were forced to scrunitize. Things that werent even in the story we had to discuss. Mark Twain would be sickened, i thought.
She was a Runway Model, dead at the age of 23. The Circumstances were baffling to police and the locals. Body Burned, except her nose and ears. What purpose was their of this?
the runway was a very beautiful place in March. Girls from all over the world came into the Paris Fashion show chasing their dream, their dream of being the next big thing. Few made it however, and the ones that did found themselves in worser sortws
I ran away from home yesterday, no joke. How coincidental. I left DFW, I am in Houston. I’m headed to New Orleans, to Florida, then north. I’m going wherever I damn well please. I truly ran seven months ago. And I have hope. For some reason, all of this running gives me hope.
Runway. Lol.
model being whisked away on an airplane to their next photo shoot. That is me in another body and another life. Long hair and legs moving in the wind. Skin soft and supple unearthed by blemishes. Another life…another time…a different me.
The plane goes down the runway …. but I would like to runaway!!! RuRu RuRu Ru run run run run runaway tum tee tum tee tum.
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
runaway
I pressed to the window as the plane touched down, bumping on the runway. The air filled with the rush of the engines and my seatbelt held me back as I buoyed forward with the momentum.
I was going to see him. I was finally going to see him. Eight months of webcams, phone calls, and emails.
She despised the fashion industry, and yet there she was. It was all her mother’s fault really. If she wasn’t a big name designer, there was no way in hell that she would be somewhere that she didn’t want to be without trying. But she had a fashion show to run and all the crazy models were running around half naked, trying not to rip clothing that no sane normal person would ever wear- especially in public.
models walking models posing falling not thinking, flashes, “important” people watching, television, cameras, skinny bitches, handsome and hot male models
I glance behind me, but force myself to keep looking forwards. Never look back. Always ahead. I try not to remember the warm the house I’ve left behind me. The one with the windows that glow a golden yellow. I can smell the cookies and hot coco emitting from the living room. I pull my jacket hood over my head and continue forward, my face frozen against the biting cold.
There are days I wish to runw-a-y across a field into countryside that never ends.
train, one way track, Don’t think back, just go with it, feel the wind in your face, your heart racing, hands wide smile to the sun eyes closed. Shout it out loud, scream until your voice breaks. Leave everything behind, fresh start. Thrill, the unknown, just go. Go. GO!
We had to wait a long, long time to get off the runway and continue on the journey, but it was worth it. We made it, eventually. And there’s no way I’d go back. I have everything I need with me right now.
I thought this said runaway so I’m going to write about that word instead because I prefer it: A runaway is this little girl named Freya who likes strawberries more than anything. She has to be all dirty with torn up clothes and a curse because what else would she be running away from? Her self confidence is shit but a good love story will always fix her up. Unless she dies in the end.
The plane tires hit the tarmac and our sky speed is now taking us down the runway. We are home. Why does it feel so strange? So foreign? Shouldn’t we feel warm and welcome. Instead my heart feels like a stranger. I only hold a piece with me, the rest I left at my home where the trees are green and bananas ripe. In a land of sorrow and joy, so much more severe than our own.
Tavis looked at the blood covering the floor. This mind screamed at him to run away, get as far as he could from this monster. Before him, his sister lay atop a mangled corpse, her soft white skin soaked red. She looked….happy, as if the death she’d wreaked on the man beneath her was some elixir of euphoria she craved every moment of her life. She was a monster of blood and death, and his kind heart screamed at him to end her life before she was unleashed once more onto the human race. Through the inner anguish, Tavis realized he still loved his sister. He crossed the room and took her sleeping form into his arms, untangling her hair from the entrails they’d mingled with through her rolling in her sleep. He took her to the bed, and lay her there without a word. He would stay. He needed her as much as she needed him.
If she were to walk down the runway, she’d be hit by a landing plane. But she decides against strutting along the glittering asphalt just to talk to the man she loves, the man hailing the massive jet.
I ran down the long street. It seemed like the dim lights would go on forever, in this thick fog. Snow gently lit my way. My road. My runway. Behind me were only the footsteps, and those could I only think of as my past. I must run farther from my past; I must run, towards my future.
She ran. As she did so, her breath fogged up her view. She could barely see. It finally hit her that she was now a “runaway”. Something you hear on tv and read in books and newspapers. But here she was, running. And she didn’t dare stop.
I ran up the strip of cement, rushing to catch up with the plane. Even just a glimpse of my baby being flown away would be better than none. I knew that I wouldn’t get there in time, but I had to try. I had to.
Chiselled into a chipped chasm
the earth held no secret, a wound prised open
with thimble patterned fingers
The tree to the side, sighed with a branch
knotted into itself, bark shredded to a book edge
I am a runaway. I am not happy with my life or family. I have been on the run since I was 12. I have been involved with many different things, but drugs and prostatution I have not. I have learned how to do many wonderful things and I have given my life to Jesus.
Catwalk models eating biscoff cookies given to them by old Delta flight attendants walking sexy like Christina Ricci. Shows go off the air too quickly.
Elephants run when they are scared… as do mice and other such scared animals. As do I, I turn to art to runaway from the world.
Down the runway and up into the sky in a matter of moments. When I look down on the clouds, I decide that I never want to touch ground again. There’s nothing but problems down there.