I looked up, down in every direction all at once but what was the point. The moment i had waited for all my life and i missed it through my own disregard and ignorance. I could feel my frustration manifesting on my faces as burning tears of anger and sadness. I began digging my own grave in my mind and i sung into my seat as if to bury myself. My eyes shifted down and welled up i tried my best to avoid crying but i could feel pressure building in my lungs like a dam bursting with an flood of emotion and i began to hysterically ball and moan as if a five year old who has lost its mother at the supper market. When suddenly something plopped into my popcorn bucket. when i looked up i saw a tall man dressed in uniform but his faced distorted by my tears. He said nothing just pointed to the bucket i looked down and saw the winning pitch ball signed covered in curdles butter and tears but this time tears of joy.That was the best day of my life and im sure Dave spent his entire savings so i could see that game that when i know i was stupid and i married him the next day.
RealitySpeaks
point… that’s my point, you can’t steal it! just stop that was my point… or … nice point Bob , hey don’t point, point you’re finger at the dot. one word can do anything. and anything is one point.
Fiza
The point of life. Ha. Whoever thought of THAT question?? What is the POINT of life? Seriously? How broad a question. The answer is individual. There is no massive, POINT to life that everyone follows. But there is always a REASON, some REASON to live. Always.
He pointed at her, his grimace spread wide around his cheeks, following up to his big ears. She was scared, scared of him and what he was going to do. She ran, avoiding him as best as she could, ignoring the fact that he was her husband. She didn’t want to look back, she was terrified, her heart rate beating faster than she had ever thought it could. She tore off her heels and raced into the woods surrounding the manor. Maybe she could find a cave to hide in, just anything that would hide her from him.
Bradyn Parmelly
The point of marriage is not to be happy or some fluffy thing like that. It is to join an unbreakable bond with someone that is charged by powerful, strong love. Not the shallow, Disney Princess kind of love. The hard, we’ll-get-through-this-together kind of love.
I looked up, down in every direction all at once but what was the point. The moment i had waited for all my life and i missed it through my own disregard and ignorance. I could feel my frustration manifesting on my faces as burning tears of anger and sadness. I began digging my own grave in my mind and i sung into my seat as if to bury myself. My eyes shifted down and welled up i tried my best to avoid crying but i could feel pressure building in my lungs like a dam bursting with an flood of emotion and i began to hysterically ball and moan as if a five year old who has lost its mother at the supper market. When suddenly something plopped into my popcorn bucket. when i looked up i saw a tall man dressed in uniform but his faced distorted by my tears. He said nothing just pointed to the bucket i looked down and saw the winning pitch ball signed covered in curdles butter and tears but this time tears of joy.That was the best day of my life and im sure Dave spent his entire savings so i could see that game that when i know i was stupid and i married him the next day.
point… that’s my point, you can’t steal it! just stop that was my point… or … nice point Bob , hey don’t point, point you’re finger at the dot. one word can do anything. and anything is one point.
The point of life. Ha. Whoever thought of THAT question?? What is the POINT of life? Seriously? How broad a question. The answer is individual. There is no massive, POINT to life that everyone follows. But there is always a REASON, some REASON to live. Always.
He pointed at her, his grimace spread wide around his cheeks, following up to his big ears. She was scared, scared of him and what he was going to do. She ran, avoiding him as best as she could, ignoring the fact that he was her husband. She didn’t want to look back, she was terrified, her heart rate beating faster than she had ever thought it could. She tore off her heels and raced into the woods surrounding the manor. Maybe she could find a cave to hide in, just anything that would hide her from him.
The point of marriage is not to be happy or some fluffy thing like that. It is to join an unbreakable bond with someone that is charged by powerful, strong love. Not the shallow, Disney Princess kind of love. The hard, we’ll-get-through-this-together kind of love.