simple enough. more often than not people hate the town they live in. 80% of those people will never leave. are they afraid? are they lazy? i may be both those things but ill be gone just you wait.
this town i have lived in for years and years
this town, where i had my first steps
my first kiss
this town where i had my heart broken
where i have become who i am
to this town, i say good bye
i think of a city. the small one that i grew up in as a child. it’s lights are off and you can perfectly see the stars and the moon out, not like you can in the big cities now. everything looks so peaceful. it’s beautiful
I’d step into town with Sarah and it felt exhilarating to hold her hand in front of the whole world. What did everybody else see when I linked my fingers with the girl I seen as the most beautiful in the world. Now I see that same look in everyone else’s eyes and I understand what they felt when they seen me hand in hand with her. A missing piece.
A small town doesn’t mean boring people, maybe there isn’t much to do or places to go like any city, it’s not about what you do, it’s about who you are with that make any place worth staying, I take pride in the wonderful people , and this wonderful place, my small town.
I live in a town its a nice town
i don’t really like living in the town its always just too crowded
and even though towns are supposed to be way more personal than cities
i just don’t think so
if i could i would live in a very small town not full of too many people;
a town where everyone knows everyone and we all can be life long friends
almost like a lovely movie
that’d be nice. very very nice.
Town is where you grow up and where you are raised. Everyone has their own memories in their town. It is what you make it. I’ve lived in the same town my whole life and I love it. Anywhere else I feel out of place.
This was my town. Four buildings and a church. A general store, a hardware store, a lumber yard, a fire department. A banner proclaiming a brand new opportunity to have a Monte Carlo night.
I lived a mile or so away in the woods, a small cabin being my home. I had no TV, no computer, no DVD player. Just a record player for my musuc. And I loved it.
This town was like a prison. I tried so hard to break free and be me, but everytime I did someone would talk and hate. Why wasn’t the true me ever enough for anyone? Fake smiles, fake laughs, fake conversations just were too much. I wanted reality, truth, love, not a false reality. Life was good, but sometimes this town is just too much for one lonely girl to handle.
my town is New Glasgow, nova scotia , a depressing town that is home to a lot of hurtin people but also produces very unique and talented people , i have a love hate relationship with my town as does everyone else that resides here, i think. p.s. poppers
There was a town that i went to when i was little. Nothing special, nothing fancy. Just a town like any other. They had a gas station on the corner, a corner store, a bunch of stores on a strip in town. It was all as normal as it could be. Just a few interchanges. A place you’d pass when running away. A place you’d pass, but rarely stay. But I did. It was my town. And I guess that’s what makes it special? I don’t know, too early to tell. Isn’t it funny how you spend your whole life wondering? Making up excuses until you run out, and then it’s all over and that’s when you realize all you did was wonder. And that’s the first realization you ever make. That’s when the wondering stops, and so does everything else.
it’s a breezy little place, breezy only in weather with the tumbleweeds and shaking trees because the people are so staunch and unwavering. the few streets are tangled, possibly mussed by the wind, but also messy like mycelium: it’s a fungal municipality with twists and turns curling into a knot of town square with branching offshoots sucking up the benefits as far out as it reaches. the spindly roads tend to taper off into nothing, but some eventually blend into the interstate.
this is the place where I was born, a place where the people no longer spoke to each other, or looked at each other. It was once a place of happiness and freedom, but since the men came out of the west it is now a place of fear and tyranny. It was once a town, now it is a cemetery.
The town was bustling as I slipped through. It was busy but not the good kind of busy. Today, more so than any other day in the year, people clustered around in sad, morose bunches. Some looked angry. Some looked sad. Ahead of me I could see him. He was with the others from outside the town and he didn’t notice me watching. He never did. We weren’t from the same place.
The town represents the visible and invisible community of diverse ideas. ideas that are continuously searching for a way to work together for the common good of every actor.
My home town is far away. I do not remember it at all. I sometimes feel closer to my ancestors across the ocean. The world is a crazy small/big place. I do love my new home town though.
“This tiny town will never know what hit them.” The godess of chaos was very pleased with her apprentice’s goal of destroying an entire town in the form of a tornado.
The beast roared as it trampled through the town, billowing blue flames from its open mouth, scourging the rooftops of the wooden buildings. Standing at 500 feet, the gigantic lizard marched on, stomping on the establishments and the townsfolk carelessly, if not ignorantly.
A small town, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing special to it, you see. But the three Fates decided the future of our hero would pivot around it. Why? Because Fates are cruel. There’s nothing more to it.
She is the small town girl, the one they write songs about. She is the one who stares into the distance, wishing to see more, to live more. Trapped in a town too small for her heart and soul, she will wait and the songs will just keep on playing…
We grew up in different parts of town. I’m the rebel, the one who steals nail polish, smokes weed and drinks until she can’t remember her name. You’re the good boy, upstanding citizen, and all. And yet we’re best friends. You’re the yin to my yang, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I tend not to think of Chattanooga as a town, but as a small, very small, city. Town has a pejorative implication, don’t you think? And yes, we’re tiny compared to other places I’ve lived. What do you call Chattanooga? City? Town? Burg? Hamlet? Municipality?
Getting as far away from town as possible is essential for survival when a catastrophe hits. The less amount of people around the better chance you have.
Everyone knew everyone in this town; what they did, what they think, where they work, who they know, where they’ve been. That’s why when news of a murders broke the headlines, shock was evident on everyone’s faces. Who? No one came to mind, but minds were buzzing, sifting through memories to recall who the suspect could be.
The preachers have come again. To the town where almost half the people have already left, following in their crazy cult ideas. I guess this time they want the rest of us. But we will try to resist. We will try as hard as we can not to let them turn us like they had the half that had left, into people that weren’t even recognizable after the preachers did their work on them . . .
i lived in a town called indianapolis for five years of my life, then i moved to a town called cincinnatii ohio, and ive also lived in the town columbus and the town athens. I hate smalls towns, i like big cities, but not too big. I love the community of a small town, but they seem to gossipy. Towns come in all shapes and sizes but I prefer the middle ground when it comes to township size.
Town some good some bad, the best the worse, who you are or who you are not. It can define you, or it can be what drives you away. It can draw you into it, like a metropolis steaming with a thousand different cultures, or drive you away from the racist homophobic one horse town that it is.
town. simple enough. everyone has something different to say about their own. more often then not you will find people hate the town they live in.. but why are they still there? if you hate it, why not leave? i know i will. ill be gone and-
a place where two young people met and fell in love. she has never seen a guys so independent and amazing, in that small town he would help others in need no matter who it was. she loved the sparkle in his eyes when people say thank you to him.
simple enough. more often than not people hate the town they live in. 80% of those people will never leave. are they afraid? are they lazy? i may be both those things but ill be gone just you wait.
this town i have lived in for years and years
this town, where i had my first steps
my first kiss
this town where i had my heart broken
where i have become who i am
to this town, i say good bye
i think of a city. the small one that i grew up in as a child. it’s lights are off and you can perfectly see the stars and the moon out, not like you can in the big cities now. everything looks so peaceful. it’s beautiful
I’d step into town with Sarah and it felt exhilarating to hold her hand in front of the whole world. What did everybody else see when I linked my fingers with the girl I seen as the most beautiful in the world. Now I see that same look in everyone else’s eyes and I understand what they felt when they seen me hand in hand with her. A missing piece.
A small town doesn’t mean boring people, maybe there isn’t much to do or places to go like any city, it’s not about what you do, it’s about who you are with that make any place worth staying, I take pride in the wonderful people , and this wonderful place, my small town.
I live in a town its a nice town
i don’t really like living in the town its always just too crowded
and even though towns are supposed to be way more personal than cities
i just don’t think so
if i could i would live in a very small town not full of too many people;
a town where everyone knows everyone and we all can be life long friends
almost like a lovely movie
that’d be nice. very very nice.
this is a place wjere
Town is where you grow up and where you are raised. Everyone has their own memories in their town. It is what you make it. I’ve lived in the same town my whole life and I love it. Anywhere else I feel out of place.
This was my town. Four buildings and a church. A general store, a hardware store, a lumber yard, a fire department. A banner proclaiming a brand new opportunity to have a Monte Carlo night.
I lived a mile or so away in the woods, a small cabin being my home. I had no TV, no computer, no DVD player. Just a record player for my musuc. And I loved it.
This town was like a prison. I tried so hard to break free and be me, but everytime I did someone would talk and hate. Why wasn’t the true me ever enough for anyone? Fake smiles, fake laughs, fake conversations just were too much. I wanted reality, truth, love, not a false reality. Life was good, but sometimes this town is just too much for one lonely girl to handle.
my town is New Glasgow, nova scotia , a depressing town that is home to a lot of hurtin people but also produces very unique and talented people , i have a love hate relationship with my town as does everyone else that resides here, i think. p.s. poppers
There was a town that i went to when i was little. Nothing special, nothing fancy. Just a town like any other. They had a gas station on the corner, a corner store, a bunch of stores on a strip in town. It was all as normal as it could be. Just a few interchanges. A place you’d pass when running away. A place you’d pass, but rarely stay. But I did. It was my town. And I guess that’s what makes it special? I don’t know, too early to tell. Isn’t it funny how you spend your whole life wondering? Making up excuses until you run out, and then it’s all over and that’s when you realize all you did was wonder. And that’s the first realization you ever make. That’s when the wondering stops, and so does everything else.
it’s a breezy little place, breezy only in weather with the tumbleweeds and shaking trees because the people are so staunch and unwavering. the few streets are tangled, possibly mussed by the wind, but also messy like mycelium: it’s a fungal municipality with twists and turns curling into a knot of town square with branching offshoots sucking up the benefits as far out as it reaches. the spindly roads tend to taper off into nothing, but some eventually blend into the interstate.
this is the place where I was born, a place where the people no longer spoke to each other, or looked at each other. It was once a place of happiness and freedom, but since the men came out of the west it is now a place of fear and tyranny. It was once a town, now it is a cemetery.
The town was bustling as I slipped through. It was busy but not the good kind of busy. Today, more so than any other day in the year, people clustered around in sad, morose bunches. Some looked angry. Some looked sad. Ahead of me I could see him. He was with the others from outside the town and he didn’t notice me watching. He never did. We weren’t from the same place.
I don’t feel like writing today. Especially about this town. I want to go away with you to somewhere new. Our town. Wherever and whenever that may be.
The town represents the visible and invisible community of diverse ideas. ideas that are continuously searching for a way to work together for the common good of every actor.
I live in upside down town.
Let’s go down to the town.
Let’s go walking around.
Let’s hear all the sounds.
Let’s go buy a crown.
My home town is far away. I do not remember it at all. I sometimes feel closer to my ancestors across the ocean. The world is a crazy small/big place. I do love my new home town though.
“This tiny town will never know what hit them.” The godess of chaos was very pleased with her apprentice’s goal of destroying an entire town in the form of a tornado.
The beast roared as it trampled through the town, billowing blue flames from its open mouth, scourging the rooftops of the wooden buildings. Standing at 500 feet, the gigantic lizard marched on, stomping on the establishments and the townsfolk carelessly, if not ignorantly.
where people live and die and have children. it has a hospital
its like a village exeped a little bigger or smaller.
A small town, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing special to it, you see. But the three Fates decided the future of our hero would pivot around it. Why? Because Fates are cruel. There’s nothing more to it.
She is the small town girl, the one they write songs about. She is the one who stares into the distance, wishing to see more, to live more. Trapped in a town too small for her heart and soul, she will wait and the songs will just keep on playing…
see post above from Morgan Monson- thats me haha I just made an official account
We grew up in different parts of town. I’m the rebel, the one who steals nail polish, smokes weed and drinks until she can’t remember her name. You’re the good boy, upstanding citizen, and all. And yet we’re best friends. You’re the yin to my yang, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
What’s in a town? Similar to the colloquialism, “What’s in a name?” there’s an entire universe to be found, discovered, to be certain.
I tend not to think of Chattanooga as a town, but as a small, very small, city. Town has a pejorative implication, don’t you think? And yes, we’re tiny compared to other places I’ve lived. What do you call Chattanooga? City? Town? Burg? Hamlet? Municipality?
Getting as far away from town as possible is essential for survival when a catastrophe hits. The less amount of people around the better chance you have.
Everyone knew everyone in this town; what they did, what they think, where they work, who they know, where they’ve been. That’s why when news of a murders broke the headlines, shock was evident on everyone’s faces. Who? No one came to mind, but minds were buzzing, sifting through memories to recall who the suspect could be.
in my hometown
fuck it
i dont want to live here anymore
my legs are long
my knees are sore
please let me go
please
i will never come back
i will never
I live in a town like some peps but not all my town is called a village
downtown
The preachers have come again. To the town where almost half the people have already left, following in their crazy cult ideas. I guess this time they want the rest of us. But we will try to resist. We will try as hard as we can not to let them turn us like they had the half that had left, into people that weren’t even recognizable after the preachers did their work on them . . .
i lived in a town called indianapolis for five years of my life, then i moved to a town called cincinnatii ohio, and ive also lived in the town columbus and the town athens. I hate smalls towns, i like big cities, but not too big. I love the community of a small town, but they seem to gossipy. Towns come in all shapes and sizes but I prefer the middle ground when it comes to township size.
Town some good some bad, the best the worse, who you are or who you are not. It can define you, or it can be what drives you away. It can draw you into it, like a metropolis steaming with a thousand different cultures, or drive you away from the racist homophobic one horse town that it is.
town. simple enough. everyone has something different to say about their own. more often then not you will find people hate the town they live in.. but why are they still there? if you hate it, why not leave? i know i will. ill be gone and-
a place where two young people met and fell in love. she has never seen a guys so independent and amazing, in that small town he would help others in need no matter who it was. she loved the sparkle in his eyes when people say thank you to him.