The town was almost abandoned. Hardly a few people were ever seen on the streets during the day. During the night, I wouldn’t know. I never had the courage to try and see. Just once, I stayed out until too late. The town sounded creepy, it’s darkness tolled with shadows and old smiles.
one word to completely change everything. “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” that’s a lie. words hurt. sometimes more than stones, and it only takes one word to change everything. faggot. cunt. bitch. those words break people, and it’s stupid to think a stick could do more damage.
I live in a small town. It is a bit different from the town I grew up in but I love it! It seems too small at times but there is a comfort in having everyone know you.
Small, sometimes suffocating but most of the times it’s sweet and endearing. Late night walking by the sea with an ice-cream melting away as we speak endlessly forgetting to lavish the culinary wonder. Because the town protects us as we bring our heart out as we reveal our truest fears and deepest wishes that may never come true but for a minute or so we lived them as we talked about them, as we shared them between us. Our birth place our dying place. Our saviour.
A place you live. A group of people with in a certain location. Almost like a village, possible a little larger. Has a mayor. Can be large or small. Any bigger is a city.
It rose out of the sand like a mirage – could it be possible? Here, in the wastelands, were the unmistakable signs of civilsation. The dust shifted uneasily in the hot, sluggish wind.
I grew up in a small resort town in Northern Michigan. The beautiful tree lined lake was a source of endless entertainement: swimming, boating….propelling silently underwater in order to scare an unsuspecting duck.
yesterday i went into town with the purpose of confronting mr macintosh, he assulted me last winter and i have never been able to speak out about the truth. he is a liar and a fiend of a fat man who will always haunt my stemps, me breaths, and my life pursuits.
Small towns are the worst, even though you may be surrounded by people. I used to live in a town that I considered small. There was nothing to do and everyone was fake. I used to think I hated that town. But now, I realize, as I’ve matured, I don’t. I love it.
A small town moans on a Sunday morning as the day breaks. Julia strolls the streets alone, basket of lilies in hand. She doesn’t want to be there, but she is. She hates this town. But she loves her mom. Oh, mother. Why are you gone.
I once lived in a suburb of chicago It was big enough to be a town and the miost boring deadly place I ever lived in I used to wish to find graffiti on the side walk anything to ruin the clean sterile look of the place
Nice to get into town when you live in the burbs. Nothin like a hop on the MTA to bring you into the urban hub, with crowded streets, cooler stores and homeless people sleeping in the park.
I hate this town. I hate it so much. I hate where I live. Everyone judges and is in everyone’s business. There is no acceptance of differences or uniqueness. You have to be rich and a jock to be accepted it’s stupid. I have everyone at my school. They’re all stuck up and assholes. I can’t wait to get out of this bullshit town. It’s ridiculous.
Red-breasted robins bobbed across the lawn in front of the once-stunning mansion. Chickadees twittered in the treetops of the scraggly branches by the columns of the porch. Everyone in town shied away from the old place, certain that it was haunted or possessed. But young Eden just wished for one friend to keep her company in the many lonely days she spent with her aged aunts. When the redheaded Blossom peered through the window at the rear, Eden felt there was hope.
Once there was a town and in that town was a kid. His name was Ken. A very tenacious being. In spite of his age, he had seen a very different world than other 12 year olds.
This reminds me of Don’t Stop Believing by Journey.
Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, she took the midnight train going anywhere.
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit, he took the midnight train going anywhere.
Big town with big people in it.
That’s something isn’t it?
Little town with little people in it.
That’s something isn’t it?
Green town with blue people in it.
That’s something Grue isn’t it?
There was once a dark town without any lights in it because they did not pay their bill. Instead they spent it on a huge dome because of the coming apocolypse. What a shame! Now there was a flashlight carrier in town who profitted huge.
Alma Michigan is my home town. It is where I live and where I have grown up. My town is where my family lives and where my parents have made a family and a home. My mom works in a nearby town and my dad does random jobs around this town. A town defines a person.
What part of “town” are you from? This can have meaning on a small and large scale basis. What part of town you’re from can open or close doors; it can shade the way you see yourself and others. In a big city, your part of “town” is several thousand, or it may be only dozens in a more rural setting.
There once was a young man who lived in a town. This town was surrounded by a high wall overgrown with vines and ivy. One day the man decided to escape the town. He climbed the wall in the dead of night and escaped into the desert beyond. On the horizon he could see mountains. He traveled for days in the desert, but the mountains never grew any closer, and the town remained always just behind him.
There was no life in this town. It was nothing more than a pit of despair, poverty, and drugs. Children with infants. The few who got out swore they’d never return, but they always did in the end. It got their souls, in the end.
they say home is where the heart is,
the place where you grow
and decide who you are.
the place that saw you through
every mistake
and watched every accomplishment.
the place you can’t fake your way through.
but to me, it’s always just been a town.
Just remembered reading the play Our Town in school and I think we also performed it. Amazing how one simple word will trigger a memory that has been lost. This is an amazing concept. Thank you.
Our Town. Plays. The Diviners. Drama class. Rehearsal. Practice. Color guard. Band. Marching band. Preband. Summer. Lake. Jetskis. Boat. Tubing. Fun. Sweat. Water. Sweat and water. Body. Anatomy. Originality.
Nobody has any originality anymore. Why? Why won’t society let us be original? Why won’t anyone go against their mothers or fathers or grandparents and be themselves? Why is everyone fake?
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
our town. Small. Community.
Community.
Society
Society sucks. It always paints our faces for us and doesn’t allow us to speak for ourselves or make our own art.
Art.
Beauty.
Nature
Mother Nature
Trees. Leaves blowing in the slight sigh of the wind.
we live in a town hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahahahhahahhahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhah im bord
The town was almost abandoned. Hardly a few people were ever seen on the streets during the day. During the night, I wouldn’t know. I never had the courage to try and see. Just once, I stayed out until too late. The town sounded creepy, it’s darkness tolled with shadows and old smiles.
one word to completely change everything. “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” that’s a lie. words hurt. sometimes more than stones, and it only takes one word to change everything. faggot. cunt. bitch. those words break people, and it’s stupid to think a stick could do more damage.
I live in a small town. It is a bit different from the town I grew up in but I love it! It seems too small at times but there is a comfort in having everyone know you.
Small, sometimes suffocating but most of the times it’s sweet and endearing. Late night walking by the sea with an ice-cream melting away as we speak endlessly forgetting to lavish the culinary wonder. Because the town protects us as we bring our heart out as we reveal our truest fears and deepest wishes that may never come true but for a minute or so we lived them as we talked about them, as we shared them between us. Our birth place our dying place. Our saviour.
a town in pennsvylvania was the place of my beginning Little did I know that a city had much larger implication.
A place you live. A group of people with in a certain location. Almost like a village, possible a little larger. Has a mayor. Can be large or small. Any bigger is a city.
It rose out of the sand like a mirage – could it be possible? Here, in the wastelands, were the unmistakable signs of civilsation. The dust shifted uneasily in the hot, sluggish wind.
I grew up in a small resort town in Northern Michigan. The beautiful tree lined lake was a source of endless entertainement: swimming, boating….propelling silently underwater in order to scare an unsuspecting duck.
yesterday i went into town with the purpose of confronting mr macintosh, he assulted me last winter and i have never been able to speak out about the truth. he is a liar and a fiend of a fat man who will always haunt my stemps, me breaths, and my life pursuits.
Small towns are the worst, even though you may be surrounded by people. I used to live in a town that I considered small. There was nothing to do and everyone was fake. I used to think I hated that town. But now, I realize, as I’ve matured, I don’t. I love it.
A small town moans on a Sunday morning as the day breaks. Julia strolls the streets alone, basket of lilies in hand. She doesn’t want to be there, but she is. She hates this town. But she loves her mom. Oh, mother. Why are you gone.
I once lived in a suburb of chicago It was big enough to be a town and the miost boring deadly place I ever lived in I used to wish to find graffiti on the side walk anything to ruin the clean sterile look of the place
Nice to get into town when you live in the burbs. Nothin like a hop on the MTA to bring you into the urban hub, with crowded streets, cooler stores and homeless people sleeping in the park.
I hate this town. I hate it so much. I hate where I live. Everyone judges and is in everyone’s business. There is no acceptance of differences or uniqueness. You have to be rich and a jock to be accepted it’s stupid. I have everyone at my school. They’re all stuck up and assholes. I can’t wait to get out of this bullshit town. It’s ridiculous.
Red-breasted robins bobbed across the lawn in front of the once-stunning mansion. Chickadees twittered in the treetops of the scraggly branches by the columns of the porch. Everyone in town shied away from the old place, certain that it was haunted or possessed. But young Eden just wished for one friend to keep her company in the many lonely days she spent with her aged aunts. When the redheaded Blossom peered through the window at the rear, Eden felt there was hope.
Once there was a town and in that town was a kid. His name was Ken. A very tenacious being. In spite of his age, he had seen a very different world than other 12 year olds.
This reminds me of Don’t Stop Believing by Journey.
Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, she took the midnight train going anywhere.
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit, he took the midnight train going anywhere.
Big town with big people in it.
That’s something isn’t it?
Little town with little people in it.
That’s something isn’t it?
Green town with blue people in it.
That’s something Grue isn’t it?
Town city country family shops people walking rudepeople sidewalks birds
entertainment cityhall walking bikers closebuilding tal
i live in i like…village is bad…good electricity…good ppl…education…
polution…corruption…traffic…no fresh air…good roads…connectivity…
houses. buildings. people. cars. friends. parks and roads. local restaurants. walking the dogs on sunday. country clubs and golf matches. schools.
There was once a dark town without any lights in it because they did not pay their bill. Instead they spent it on a huge dome because of the coming apocolypse. What a shame! Now there was a flashlight carrier in town who profitted huge.
it in a city
it has people in a town
it in a story
it is real
it has buildings in it
Alma Michigan is my home town. It is where I live and where I have grown up. My town is where my family lives and where my parents have made a family and a home. My mom works in a nearby town and my dad does random jobs around this town. A town defines a person.
What part of “town” are you from? This can have meaning on a small and large scale basis. What part of town you’re from can open or close doors; it can shade the way you see yourself and others. In a big city, your part of “town” is several thousand, or it may be only dozens in a more rural setting.
There once was a young man who lived in a town. This town was surrounded by a high wall overgrown with vines and ivy. One day the man decided to escape the town. He climbed the wall in the dead of night and escaped into the desert beyond. On the horizon he could see mountains. He traveled for days in the desert, but the mountains never grew any closer, and the town remained always just behind him.
There was no life in this town. It was nothing more than a pit of despair, poverty, and drugs. Children with infants. The few who got out swore they’d never return, but they always did in the end. It got their souls, in the end.
they say home is where the heart is,
the place where you grow
and decide who you are.
the place that saw you through
every mistake
and watched every accomplishment.
the place you can’t fake your way through.
but to me, it’s always just been a town.
Just remembered reading the play Our Town in school and I think we also performed it. Amazing how one simple word will trigger a memory that has been lost. This is an amazing concept. Thank you.
Our Town. Plays. The Diviners. Drama class. Rehearsal. Practice. Color guard. Band. Marching band. Preband. Summer. Lake. Jetskis. Boat. Tubing. Fun. Sweat. Water. Sweat and water. Body. Anatomy. Originality.
Nobody has any originality anymore. Why? Why won’t society let us be original? Why won’t anyone go against their mothers or fathers or grandparents and be themselves? Why is everyone fake?
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
town
our town. Small. Community.
Community.
Society
Society sucks. It always paints our faces for us and doesn’t allow us to speak for ourselves or make our own art.
Art.
Beauty.
Nature
Mother Nature
Trees. Leaves blowing in the slight sigh of the wind.
a town is a tiny city. sometimes I confuse town and city.
we live in a town hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahahahhahahhahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhah im bord
i like going down town because there are stores and its really cool!!!!!!!!!! :)
I was loged out but now I am in but I forgot to click the rember me I feel silly
Towing the n. Tow n. Trucks towing a gigantuous letter N
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I live in a town that is kinda small.
shut up and got to town.
I love to be in town its so fun!!!!!!! Am
nd 4 spring break i am leaving town….