the station was filled with bustling passengers. there were moms lugging their gaggles of snotty children to their great aunt who would undoubtedly stuff them with cake until they were jumping of the walls. there were serious business men in dark grey suits, who recently got divorced because their wife found they were sleeping with the secretary. and me, in the corner watching.
Station. Train station. Once I went to a train museum over an hour away for character research. I’m proud of that. I’m not proud of much, but I am of that.
Gas station. They have everything you could ever need. They have chocolate, soda, even toliet paper. If you think about it gas stations are really convinete. Thats proabably why they are called convinete stores. Maybe, I mean who knows what people like that are thinking?
waiting, sleeping, under tracks of tired eyes, there was the case where he ran for the train with firecrackers under his arm and they dropped and exploded and somehweredown the other end of the station a giant clock fell and hit a woman and she tried to sue, but lady you can’t sue when you’re not reasonably foreseeable – studying law dampens my poetic flow
The skytrain station with Amluk and Jane and the Canucks were playing and we lost it made me upset but what can you do? We made it to the finals regardless so one lost didnt matter anyway. I just remember sining go Canucks go and everyone was staring at us but it was fun because we, as in jane and i got to show off our canucks pride. amluk was too shy
This word always reminds me of Jane Austen. “Stations in life”. It also reminds me of train stations. Those hold so much magic. The lovers who have to say goodbye. The lovers meeting again. The family traveling. Etc…
as i rolled up to the gas station it started to rain. I looked to my left and saw a man with a black trench coat and 5 o’clock shadow staring at me. I started to feel uneasy as i swiped my credit card.
Ariane’s hands shook as she slowly stepped of the train. It was one thing to be a traitor and not know it, but knowing that you had betrayed your country? The thought was slowly tearing a part her mind. And then being audacious enough to step into one of the most guarded areas in the capitol. She just had to be crazy.
“This is what I have to do,” she murmured and stepped forward. An old American saying came to mind and she chuckled at it. “One small step for woman, one giant step towards freedom.”
station, stationary. unmoving, with no intentions of leaving. it is this exact word that has put me to my wits end, it’s the attitude of this town- stationary…most are too afraid to move beyond the bubble..
the station played some bulshit country music and she hummed along, but then she stopped herself. she had been stuck in this god damned place too long, she shouldnt know the words to this shit. she needed to run away.
I Like Train Stations But Not Bus Stations They Scare . Have You Seen A Space Station? Maybe?>… Maybe Not?… Why Iz There A Radio Station? Rain Station? How Many Stations Are There??????? Food Station???? My Station? This Station……..
I’m at the train station. My bags are packed, I’m good to go. I’m standing, facing the tracks, following them with my eyes until they converge on the horizon. “I’m ready,” I think to myself. “It’s time to go,” the train bell shouts. “All aboard,” the conductor yells out. “Wait,” you whisper. So I stand at the train station, staring into your eyes, wondering what comes next.
i was at the bus station when i saw this cat. a strange little cat. he was wearing a snazzy suit and a purple vest. along with an umbrella in one hand and an apple in the other. he then started staring at me. the bus soon came and i left, that was the last time i saw the spiffy looking cat.
today i was very lonely.. i dont have many friends. i get a call from my invisble friend tracy. she says “meet me at the subway station” and i say no.. you know why? because hobos live there. DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
my life is a living subway
i like sttions
stations stations
Well Train stations are fun…..thought I’ve never been in one lol I have been in a space station and boy are those cool and fun I went to one my freshman year and did alot of fun things. Like moon walking.
street cafe is my favorite place to grab a lunch back home. i miss it. but i also love the thought of being in a train station. the thought of going to hogwarts. the excitement of…you know.
today i went to the station. the stations was closed so i went to another station and i met a hobo. he asked me for a ride to the subway because he likes stations. stations, stations, stations. i love stations so much, they are the best, they are the centre of my life.
Grand Central… I want to go back to Manhattan. It needs me.
Stationary. That’s where my life is now.
Stationary; not moving at the current moment, and no intentions of taking off
anytime soon.
cars, train,concrete, petrol and oil. quiet, business, men in suits and ties, fold up bikes, coffee, tea anger, mcdonalds breakfast, frustration, freedom, love and missing , money, romance, grey, black and white film, still, post. building, business, finance, travel, journey, crosswords. Church and the stations of the cross.
Time throws slow punches but they all hurt the same. I am stationed at the wall, feet stuck to the ground and hands glue in my pockets. I give a nod in your direction as you lift your luggage and board the train.
i was in a stationary place. confused. yet, happy. sitting at the station i thought to myself what being a train would be like. moving so fast. coming to a stop. letting people on and off. yes, i needed that excitement in my life. i needed some adventure.
i have never been to a train station, though i’d really love to visit one before the end of my days for i am a curious type of person. I’d like to have a little adventure on one, just ride a train for no particular reason, and wait to see where it will take me. That would be a thing to remember.
its a long way form the station to my house. i don’t like the drive. its cold t stations and normally rains. i was late for a train and had to sit in a waiting room for an hour for the next one. i don’t like the formality of stations with gates and guards. they are too restricted. i like to roam free.
I stop off at the train station, looking out towards the city.
It’s my city, drenched in midnight, splattered with colored lights. It’s my beautiful city.
But it’s not as delicate as it looks. It’s created from titanium and steel, and leaves everyone breathless.
I turn away from my city, and head back towards the station.
I have a favorite radio station in Florida. I don’t live there anymore but I listen to it through my computer using streaming audio. It makes me happy that I can take something from my old home to may new home
I sit in the cold cramped cell and wait for my mom to save me from the glares and the disappointed looks. A woman in jail is not that unusual a sit but I seems that be people inside this police station think otherwise.
train station. somewhere to wait for something to bring you somewhere else. a place to stay, stay-tion. freedom. a place for new beginnings to embark on. different pathways to follow.
I waited in the train station, watching the board of departures, waiting for them to announce the track my train would leave from. I was finally getting out of here, out on my own with no restrictions. I was free. The train would take me away from the station and away from my past.
Train station. I’ve always had a strange dream where I’m just standing in a train station waiting. I have no idea what I’m waiting for. But I have this feeling of pain as if I’m getting ready to receive horrible news. Something that can change my life forever. But I never get to find out what it is. I wake up before I see what I’m waiting for. Maybe one day I will finish that dream and maybe it will change my life. I don’t know for sure.
Welcome to the machine, a veritable stronghold of power, greed, and corruption rampant upon the tracks of society. Derailed by instant gratification, it rolls unchecked, destroying all in its path with the precision of metal and coal. Get on, or get out!
The last time I rode a train station was on a school trip the day before my eighteenth birthday. It was a day I had been waiting for, as the boy I had particular feelings for would be there that night to celebrate my legality.
Tin whistles, and tracks made of steel…
A horn blows loudly.
Gravity pushes and pulls, and the slightest touch of another human being rubbing against my skin sends shivers down my spine.
We are all here for the same thing. But we are all lost.
What ever happened to us?
I arrived at the station precisely ten to twelve. It was ten minutes before Phillippa Maria-Jasmine Milo Jr. arrived at the same station. Of course we hadn’t yet met but, as I would soon realize, Phillippa Maria-Jasmine Milo Jr. would soon become a very important part in my life.
It was then that the train steamed into the station, grinding to a halt and opening its steely doors for passengers.
And it was then that I first laid eyes on Phillippa. I had no idea that this gangly, short woman would soon become my best friend.
I wish I could go to a train station with a ticket to anywhere that I wanted to go. I would feel so free to leave everything behind. While sitting on the train I wouldN’t think if what I left behind but what I will do when I get to my destination. I will meet new people and take a journey to a place I have never been.
The rain was pelting down and in the distance he could hear the train. It would be rounding the bends, but he knew is he just ran fast enough, he would get to the station in time to catch the train. The morning was wet and misty. The approaching car didn’t see the blurred figure dash across the road.
the station was filled with bustling passengers. there were moms lugging their gaggles of snotty children to their great aunt who would undoubtedly stuff them with cake until they were jumping of the walls. there were serious business men in dark grey suits, who recently got divorced because their wife found they were sleeping with the secretary. and me, in the corner watching.
Station. Train station. Once I went to a train museum over an hour away for character research. I’m proud of that. I’m not proud of much, but I am of that.
Gas station. They have everything you could ever need. They have chocolate, soda, even toliet paper. If you think about it gas stations are really convinete. Thats proabably why they are called convinete stores. Maybe, I mean who knows what people like that are thinking?
waiting, sleeping, under tracks of tired eyes, there was the case where he ran for the train with firecrackers under his arm and they dropped and exploded and somehweredown the other end of the station a giant clock fell and hit a woman and she tried to sue, but lady you can’t sue when you’re not reasonably foreseeable – studying law dampens my poetic flow
The skytrain station with Amluk and Jane and the Canucks were playing and we lost it made me upset but what can you do? We made it to the finals regardless so one lost didnt matter anyway. I just remember sining go Canucks go and everyone was staring at us but it was fun because we, as in jane and i got to show off our canucks pride. amluk was too shy
This word always reminds me of Jane Austen. “Stations in life”. It also reminds me of train stations. Those hold so much magic. The lovers who have to say goodbye. The lovers meeting again. The family traveling. Etc…
as i rolled up to the gas station it started to rain. I looked to my left and saw a man with a black trench coat and 5 o’clock shadow staring at me. I started to feel uneasy as i swiped my credit card.
Ariane’s hands shook as she slowly stepped of the train. It was one thing to be a traitor and not know it, but knowing that you had betrayed your country? The thought was slowly tearing a part her mind. And then being audacious enough to step into one of the most guarded areas in the capitol. She just had to be crazy.
“This is what I have to do,” she murmured and stepped forward. An old American saying came to mind and she chuckled at it. “One small step for woman, one giant step towards freedom.”
station, stationary. unmoving, with no intentions of leaving. it is this exact word that has put me to my wits end, it’s the attitude of this town- stationary…most are too afraid to move beyond the bubble..
i aleady did this word
the station played some bulshit country music and she hummed along, but then she stopped herself. she had been stuck in this god damned place too long, she shouldnt know the words to this shit. she needed to run away.
I Like Train Stations But Not Bus Stations They Scare . Have You Seen A Space Station? Maybe?>… Maybe Not?… Why Iz There A Radio Station? Rain Station? How Many Stations Are There??????? Food Station???? My Station? This Station……..
I’m at the train station. My bags are packed, I’m good to go. I’m standing, facing the tracks, following them with my eyes until they converge on the horizon. “I’m ready,” I think to myself. “It’s time to go,” the train bell shouts. “All aboard,” the conductor yells out. “Wait,” you whisper. So I stand at the train station, staring into your eyes, wondering what comes next.
i was at the bus station when i saw this cat. a strange little cat. he was wearing a snazzy suit and a purple vest. along with an umbrella in one hand and an apple in the other. he then started staring at me. the bus soon came and i left, that was the last time i saw the spiffy looking cat.
today i was very lonely.. i dont have many friends. i get a call from my invisble friend tracy. she says “meet me at the subway station” and i say no.. you know why? because hobos live there. DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
my life is a living subway
i like sttions
stations stations
Well Train stations are fun…..thought I’ve never been in one lol I have been in a space station and boy are those cool and fun I went to one my freshman year and did alot of fun things. Like moon walking.
street cafe is my favorite place to grab a lunch back home. i miss it. but i also love the thought of being in a train station. the thought of going to hogwarts. the excitement of…you know.
My station in life does not define who i am.
today i went to the station. the stations was closed so i went to another station and i met a hobo. he asked me for a ride to the subway because he likes stations. stations, stations, stations. i love stations so much, they are the best, they are the centre of my life.
station train
newyork space place sing dance hope travel world learn smell eat experience live let go rain fun movement
Grand Central… I want to go back to Manhattan. It needs me.
Stationary. That’s where my life is now.
Stationary; not moving at the current moment, and no intentions of taking off
anytime soon.
It was raining. That’s all I remember. No, there was nothing else. It was just me and the rain.
cars, train,concrete, petrol and oil. quiet, business, men in suits and ties, fold up bikes, coffee, tea anger, mcdonalds breakfast, frustration, freedom, love and missing , money, romance, grey, black and white film, still, post. building, business, finance, travel, journey, crosswords. Church and the stations of the cross.
Time throws slow punches but they all hurt the same. I am stationed at the wall, feet stuck to the ground and hands glue in my pockets. I give a nod in your direction as you lift your luggage and board the train.
i was in a stationary place. confused. yet, happy. sitting at the station i thought to myself what being a train would be like. moving so fast. coming to a stop. letting people on and off. yes, i needed that excitement in my life. i needed some adventure.
i have never been to a train station, though i’d really love to visit one before the end of my days for i am a curious type of person. I’d like to have a little adventure on one, just ride a train for no particular reason, and wait to see where it will take me. That would be a thing to remember.
its a long way form the station to my house. i don’t like the drive. its cold t stations and normally rains. i was late for a train and had to sit in a waiting room for an hour for the next one. i don’t like the formality of stations with gates and guards. they are too restricted. i like to roam free.
I stop off at the train station, looking out towards the city.
It’s my city, drenched in midnight, splattered with colored lights. It’s my beautiful city.
But it’s not as delicate as it looks. It’s created from titanium and steel, and leaves everyone breathless.
I turn away from my city, and head back towards the station.
I have a favorite radio station in Florida. I don’t live there anymore but I listen to it through my computer using streaming audio. It makes me happy that I can take something from my old home to may new home
I sit in the cold cramped cell and wait for my mom to save me from the glares and the disappointed looks. A woman in jail is not that unusual a sit but I seems that be people inside this police station think otherwise.
train station. somewhere to wait for something to bring you somewhere else. a place to stay, stay-tion. freedom. a place for new beginnings to embark on. different pathways to follow.
The buzzing of thoughts dulled to a manageable distraction in my head at the very moment I noticed it – one single yellow petal on my doorstep.
I waited in the train station, watching the board of departures, waiting for them to announce the track my train would leave from. I was finally getting out of here, out on my own with no restrictions. I was free. The train would take me away from the station and away from my past.
Train station. I’ve always had a strange dream where I’m just standing in a train station waiting. I have no idea what I’m waiting for. But I have this feeling of pain as if I’m getting ready to receive horrible news. Something that can change my life forever. But I never get to find out what it is. I wake up before I see what I’m waiting for. Maybe one day I will finish that dream and maybe it will change my life. I don’t know for sure.
Welcome to the machine, a veritable stronghold of power, greed, and corruption rampant upon the tracks of society. Derailed by instant gratification, it rolls unchecked, destroying all in its path with the precision of metal and coal. Get on, or get out!
The last time I rode a train station was on a school trip the day before my eighteenth birthday. It was a day I had been waiting for, as the boy I had particular feelings for would be there that night to celebrate my legality.
Tin whistles, and tracks made of steel…
A horn blows loudly.
Gravity pushes and pulls, and the slightest touch of another human being rubbing against my skin sends shivers down my spine.
We are all here for the same thing. But we are all lost.
What ever happened to us?
I arrived at the station precisely ten to twelve. It was ten minutes before Phillippa Maria-Jasmine Milo Jr. arrived at the same station. Of course we hadn’t yet met but, as I would soon realize, Phillippa Maria-Jasmine Milo Jr. would soon become a very important part in my life.
It was then that the train steamed into the station, grinding to a halt and opening its steely doors for passengers.
And it was then that I first laid eyes on Phillippa. I had no idea that this gangly, short woman would soon become my best friend.
I wish I could go to a train station with a ticket to anywhere that I wanted to go. I would feel so free to leave everything behind. While sitting on the train I wouldN’t think if what I left behind but what I will do when I get to my destination. I will meet new people and take a journey to a place I have never been.
The rain was pelting down and in the distance he could hear the train. It would be rounding the bends, but he knew is he just ran fast enough, he would get to the station in time to catch the train. The morning was wet and misty. The approaching car didn’t see the blurred figure dash across the road.