ddddddddddddddddoooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ltdtchvhgyrdxhvghv ffffc fg cc v c cc cv cv cvv c c ccffvfvfvffvhhhhgghghbghbhbhbhbnhbnhbhhhhhhhhhuyyyytrescvbnml98765esdfghjklkjgfdsdfghjkvcxzzxcvbnm,,,,,,,,,,,lkjhgfdsaqwertyuiopppppppppppppppppppppppppp0987654321234567876rewsdfghjhgfdxcvbnmnbvccvbhjhgfdsdfgthyujytrfdeswedrftgyhujik
chloe
If you look up at any given time you can usually see a doorway. Maybe someone going through the main door at work with its glass front and smooth metal bar, or it’s your house where you’re locked inside, warm and doubting if you should’ve really stayed home sick.
The portal loomed out of the hedge. The twisting throns continued through on the other side, but they were blacker and sharper. The red skies of dusk were visible through the glowing arch, even as the clocks chimed midday in the garden.
i don’t think much about it anymore. i wake up and you’re there, dressed impeccably, with your grey eyes somehow bright and hair tidy, starkly different from how it was the night before. you always wake up first. i smile and walk over to you, and as i touch your cheek the tender expression blossoms on your face like a flower. there it is. “see you later,” you murmur, and i nod with a “yes” as i watch you disappear through the doorway.
Revolving door — doorway to endless hellos and goodbyes.
Doorway, blocked — missed opportunities; life in limbo.
Krys
sitting in a room, hands tied, but only in preoccupation underneath your paralyzed legs. And it gazes out at each looming window, some familiar, some completely new. They can beckon, but the cry’s muffle and bounce around in muffled tones until they disappear through another doorway. And that’s the way the fucking cookie crumbled around the cramping prozac nightmare.
smurfstoestar
She stood in the doorway, leaning against the door jam and looking out into the street. All the children were playing in the snow, rolling large clumps into balls and packing it into walls. She smiled and sipped her coffee.
I stood in the doorway scrutinizing his expression, reluctant to intrude but posting myself as willing if he wanted to invite me, somehow unable to read him despite how hard we both seemed to be trying. We left so much deliberately unsaid between us that a mutual understanding and the precise contents of gaps within it remained ungraspable – though it was there, hanging between us.
“I just.” He was wary, somehow; not nervous, no more vulnerable than I had seen him before, but self-conscious and cautious of how I would perceive whatever he wanted to say. “I don’t want to do anything to disappoint you.”
“Oh.” It slips out of my mouth italicized, very sure. But he doesn’t look reassured, so I stumble forward, attempting to articulate my bedrock faith. “That’s…several shades of impossible.”
Florence Farfaletti
Day 2
Ambivalence – It cages misery, dejection, fury and all the other feelings that have lost their direction. The click-click-click of spokes like blue devils plucking at tightened heartstrings, a chaotic melody that sometimes dovetails into something bearable –
Like checking every pocket for misplaced keys, wondering if you’re just buying time.
I walked through the doorway of my suite this year thinking that it would be the best one so far. That’s how it was in high school: each year got better than the rest. I’m not sure about that anymore. I don’t feel like I’ve made advances in my relationship with Charlie, his father died, I’m failing in classes (not actually, but not doing as well as I had hoped), and I felt lost until I found some perspective (death of Michael Danziger) which made me realize I want to be a doctor.
She pulls her lips apart and shows him her teeth, faintly yellow and crooked, because who really wears their retainers all day after getting their braces off, anyway, and besides, her teeth aren’t the point; it’s the slide down her tongue that he takes.
His bony fingers played across the doorway. He peered around the corner, trying not to be seen, but her eyes locked on his eye sockets the second he turned. Embarassed, the Skeleton King slowly slunk back hallway where the party was taking place. It was clear he wasn’t invited to the photo shoot.
An open opportunity, a closed past. A path that is open for the tanking. May each choice you make lead to more open than closed. More passion and peace. More happiness than loss. Every doorway leads to something and leads away from one thing or many in return. Don’t ever let the fear of crossing over stop you from taking the step in or thinking long enough to know when to turn away. A blank slate of new purpose awaits for those willing to take a chance and use their path to progress. Step over the doubt and into the light.
Doorway. Opportunities that open when you work hard enough to see past the doors that are closing. Life is a chance and every turn you take can be through both dark and light doorways. As you search for the light, may you always be led through the right darkness to see the brightest doorway. Peace and opportunity.
never ever let the media tell you how to vote
the idea is a doorway to the sweetest note
opening the pathway to the private planes
the men who own us make us insane
Matt m.
a creak as I sneak a peek through the doorway /
a top, the mountain’s taupe, neither brown nor gray /
a village will starve with no place to store hay /
I knew who was standing outside before I even heard the door bell, and once he was standing in the doorway, I had my shotgun loaded and ready to fire. He was wearing a poorly fitted blue suit, the hems of the jacket going all the way down to his knees. He has holding, for some reason, a box containing a half-eaten pizza.
“Hey, man,” he grumbled through a mouthful of pepperoni. “Can I finish this before you shoot my brains out?”
Belinda Roddie
crashing*
that’s what i do if i have a typo and want to fix it but click enter before i notice it.
i stepped through the doorway. or i tried to. i crashed into the doorway. eh close enough, whats the difference between chrashing and going through? well the sky, obviously duuuhhhhh.
The doorways in town were narrow to keep the biggest meanies out, or at least to impede their rampage forwards. It was a design necessity refined over countless raids and pillages. The inhabitants had, from selective massacre, and domestic need had grown small and agile, with elongated bodies stretched noseward and assward away from the traditional wide at the shoulders popular amongst most other living people.
A portal into the other side of a portal – entrance and exit both. Communication channels are doorways, all human connection is a doorway, requiring users to step through both sides to be of optimal use. An exit-only is a potential bottleneck; a closed door is an inaccessible space of the mind. Pathways can be closed and locked, but the reverse is true; closed doors can be opened.
ddddddddddddddddoooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ltdtchvhgyrdxhvghv ffffc fg cc v c cc cv cv cvv c c ccffvfvfvffvhhhhgghghbghbhbhbhbnhbnhbhhhhhhhhhuyyyytrescvbnml98765esdfghjklkjgfdsdfghjkvcxzzxcvbnm,,,,,,,,,,,lkjhgfdsaqwertyuiopppppppppppppppppppppppppp0987654321234567876rewsdfghjhgfdxcvbnmnbvccvbhjhgfdsdfgthyujytrfdeswedrftgyhujik
If you look up at any given time you can usually see a doorway. Maybe someone going through the main door at work with its glass front and smooth metal bar, or it’s your house where you’re locked inside, warm and doubting if you should’ve really stayed home sick.
The portal loomed out of the hedge. The twisting throns continued through on the other side, but they were blacker and sharper. The red skies of dusk were visible through the glowing arch, even as the clocks chimed midday in the garden.
i don’t think much about it anymore. i wake up and you’re there, dressed impeccably, with your grey eyes somehow bright and hair tidy, starkly different from how it was the night before. you always wake up first. i smile and walk over to you, and as i touch your cheek the tender expression blossoms on your face like a flower. there it is. “see you later,” you murmur, and i nod with a “yes” as i watch you disappear through the doorway.
Doorway — entrance, exit.
Revolving door — doorway to endless hellos and goodbyes.
Doorway, blocked — missed opportunities; life in limbo.
sitting in a room, hands tied, but only in preoccupation underneath your paralyzed legs. And it gazes out at each looming window, some familiar, some completely new. They can beckon, but the cry’s muffle and bounce around in muffled tones until they disappear through another doorway. And that’s the way the fucking cookie crumbled around the cramping prozac nightmare.
She stood in the doorway, leaning against the door jam and looking out into the street. All the children were playing in the snow, rolling large clumps into balls and packing it into walls. She smiled and sipped her coffee.
Portal
“Are you worried about something?”
I stood in the doorway scrutinizing his expression, reluctant to intrude but posting myself as willing if he wanted to invite me, somehow unable to read him despite how hard we both seemed to be trying. We left so much deliberately unsaid between us that a mutual understanding and the precise contents of gaps within it remained ungraspable – though it was there, hanging between us.
“I just.” He was wary, somehow; not nervous, no more vulnerable than I had seen him before, but self-conscious and cautious of how I would perceive whatever he wanted to say. “I don’t want to do anything to disappoint you.”
“Oh.” It slips out of my mouth italicized, very sure. But he doesn’t look reassured, so I stumble forward, attempting to articulate my bedrock faith. “That’s…several shades of impossible.”
Day 2
Ambivalence – It cages misery, dejection, fury and all the other feelings that have lost their direction. The click-click-click of spokes like blue devils plucking at tightened heartstrings, a chaotic melody that sometimes dovetails into something bearable –
Like checking every pocket for misplaced keys, wondering if you’re just buying time.
I walked through the doorway of my suite this year thinking that it would be the best one so far. That’s how it was in high school: each year got better than the rest. I’m not sure about that anymore. I don’t feel like I’ve made advances in my relationship with Charlie, his father died, I’m failing in classes (not actually, but not doing as well as I had hoped), and I felt lost until I found some perspective (death of Michael Danziger) which made me realize I want to be a doctor.
She pulls her lips apart and shows him her teeth, faintly yellow and crooked, because who really wears their retainers all day after getting their braces off, anyway, and besides, her teeth aren’t the point; it’s the slide down her tongue that he takes.
His bony fingers played across the doorway. He peered around the corner, trying not to be seen, but her eyes locked on his eye sockets the second he turned. Embarassed, the Skeleton King slowly slunk back hallway where the party was taking place. It was clear he wasn’t invited to the photo shoot.
An open opportunity, a closed past. A path that is open for the tanking. May each choice you make lead to more open than closed. More passion and peace. More happiness than loss. Every doorway leads to something and leads away from one thing or many in return. Don’t ever let the fear of crossing over stop you from taking the step in or thinking long enough to know when to turn away. A blank slate of new purpose awaits for those willing to take a chance and use their path to progress. Step over the doubt and into the light.
Doorway. Opportunities that open when you work hard enough to see past the doors that are closing. Life is a chance and every turn you take can be through both dark and light doorways. As you search for the light, may you always be led through the right darkness to see the brightest doorway. Peace and opportunity.
The doorway looked empty
from a specific angle.
but not from the angle of the door.
So little people think of him
he barely thinks of himself anymore.
Afterall, what are doors for?
entrance
big
door
large
never ever let the media tell you how to vote
the idea is a doorway to the sweetest note
opening the pathway to the private planes
the men who own us make us insane
a creak as I sneak a peek through the doorway /
a top, the mountain’s taupe, neither brown nor gray /
a village will starve with no place to store hay /
a pack of prayers sung upon the Lord’s day /
a youth speaks truth, refusing to be war prey /
a choice waiting in the aether: act, or wait
I knew who was standing outside before I even heard the door bell, and once he was standing in the doorway, I had my shotgun loaded and ready to fire. He was wearing a poorly fitted blue suit, the hems of the jacket going all the way down to his knees. He has holding, for some reason, a box containing a half-eaten pizza.
“Hey, man,” he grumbled through a mouthful of pepperoni. “Can I finish this before you shoot my brains out?”
crashing*
that’s what i do if i have a typo and want to fix it but click enter before i notice it.
i stepped through the doorway. or i tried to. i crashed into the doorway. eh close enough, whats the difference between chrashing and going through? well the sky, obviously duuuhhhhh.
The doorways in town were narrow to keep the biggest meanies out, or at least to impede their rampage forwards. It was a design necessity refined over countless raids and pillages. The inhabitants had, from selective massacre, and domestic need had grown small and agile, with elongated bodies stretched noseward and assward away from the traditional wide at the shoulders popular amongst most other living people.
A portal into the other side of a portal – entrance and exit both. Communication channels are doorways, all human connection is a doorway, requiring users to step through both sides to be of optimal use. An exit-only is a potential bottleneck; a closed door is an inaccessible space of the mind. Pathways can be closed and locked, but the reverse is true; closed doors can be opened.