It’s so hard to forget so many moments that you want people to forget. Embarrassment, mortification and you panic because you think if I still remember, do they? You pray they do and it’s never brought up again but deep inside, you never know.
Emma Mc Carthy
sometimes, you feel something like that, but it doesent have to be that word thats in question. maybe its just calm, for a second. or the sixty ones
No one wants to be forgotten. What could be worse than being completely forgettable. I wish i could forget mistakes, but it seems impossible
no one
Nothing was forgotten. It was all there, loaded in the truck. The old ramshackle house was empty, every last miscellaneous object having been packed or thrown away. All that was left was to say goodbye to the only home he had ever known, his haven, his castle. That could not be forgotten.
Seia
The things that I remember when I see this word are better left just that; forgotten.
Mike
Why have I been forgotten? I must matter to someone, somewhere. No one seems to care much anymore. I gave nothing but love,and it was ignored by everyone but those without a choice. The music of my life was not written this way. It’s been played out of tune. I need someone to care, but I’ll get by somehow.
Oh. The saddest adjective. Why are some things easily forgotten and others burned into our brain seemingly irreversibly? Forgetfulness can be a curse, but also a blessing
I forgot where my socks went I forgot to add a period after that sentence I forgot to invite my best friend to my birthday party now I’m not her best friend I think I was forgotten in a gas station and they drove on without me. I think that my dentist appointment was forgotten and im actually glad but whatever a forgotten cavity always comes back to haunt you to make sure it will never again be forgotten well that’s my day –what day? Um Ive forgotten…
Deb
Usually I feel forgotten, but recently that has changed. I don’t find myself sitting alone in my room thinking deep thoughts that lead to me to confusion; now I think those thoughts through and see the silver lining WITH someone.
I let it happen so quickly. before we even saw each other it was gone, that light, that glimmer, disappeared into the dust. swaying like lucid dreams and sad trees, they smiled at us. waving as the bus drove away, memories.
Annie
She lay in the grass, her head slumped over the pebbles, and her hands flat by her side.
She was alone on a long stretch of beach. She was all alone on Long Island Sound.
Given the events of the last few days, of course, she shouldn’t have been surprised.
But she’d been forgotten. She’d been left alone.
Her family… and her friends… everyone she had cared about had left her and she did the only thing she knew how.
There were two large gashes in each of her wrists, and blood pooled on the ground.
She had killed herself; Sera Thorne was dead.
Gone, but not forgotten, the places of the past, wrapped in all the memories we have to make them last. Each day they recede further, but yet they’re always here, because memories of places are part of who we are. Gone but not forgotten, until one day they are, when no one left remembers just what those places were.
I think I’ve forgotten all the good things from my childhood… they’ve been wrapped up in a jumble of psychological knots. All good things get forgotten.
Brenna
To be abandoned is to be forgotten. To be forgotten is to be unknown. To be unknown is to be unloved. To be unloved is to be non existent. To be non existent is to be with out life.
i forget a lot of things but for some reason i always forget the most important things to me but always remember things important to other people.
Natalie
He feels like he’s moved on. He tells his sister and himself that he’s moved on. But he hasn’t forgotten. He hasn’t even gotten close to forgetting how he felt. Confusion and anxiety, alone and desperate. He remembers everything exactly, as though he feel in love just yesterday.
There lies a whole sea of abandoned lives. Not on purpose mind you, just lost and unable to be rescued, back into the warmth and comfort of the present. Oh this doesn’t happen nowadays, with advanced location technology and retrieval at the snap of a finger.
This doesn’t help the forgotten ones though. We think of them and lower our eyes in silent respect. The colors they used to bring to life, hidden.
Sometimes I’m in a drug haze simply because the anti-depressant medications I’m on decide that perhaps, that day, I am okay and don’t need as much of the medication. So it sits in my bloodstream, floating in and out of various areas of my brain, dulling my spark and numbing my creativity. I resent those drugs bitterly.
Dayle Morrison
I have forgotten how it feels to be completely carefree. And it seems that I have forgotten just how special and unique life is and that I should rejoice to it. I have forgotten to be genuinely happy.
lura
Such a strong word. Forgotten. The word itself brings painful memories. Lost. Forgotten. Left alone. Unloved. Alone. I feel the pain in my chest when I really think about the word. Forgotten. The pain is in my chest where my heart is. Forgotten.
I’ve forgotten so much in my life. This is due to neurological condition though. In a perverse way, the condition has made me hate photography. If it’s forgotten, i don’t want to see it again, in some artificial way. I cherish my own memories, flawed as they are.
C
The worst feeling in the world is being forgotten. Knowing that someone did not care for you enough to remember that you even exist.
When in life you’re alone, you often remember thing that you have forgotten. Or better still, you tried to forget. How you fought with your brother when you were two. How your dad did not allow you to drive the car. How your friends from school did bully you. How your mom cared for you, despite her own illness. Things that you have forgotten, make you who you are today. Will you remember this?
Mr Solutionist
abandoned and alone, left to rot.
there’s no hope for those who can’t even be brought to memory
the spaces between my memories are the ones i miss the most
they might as well have not existed at all
Caro
Gone like paper’s ash in the wind, her memory floated away and I couldn’t bring myself to catch it. Perhaps things would be better this way. The less reminders of her, the faster I could move on.
I felt a tear slide from my socket and wrap around my cheek. It swam close to my ear and whispered, “it’s okay to be sad,” before disappearing behind my neck.
“No it isn’t,” I told the tear.
I feel like you have forgotten me. I remember you so well is what makes that so hard for me. Where did you go? I’m so far apart from where I was with you that I can’t think of you without pain.
Jonas
I feel like i’ve forgotten you, but not forgotten our love. You are a part of me I can’t let go, I need you to breathe. I cant take this being away from you. i miss you. you are not forgotten.
That is me. You can promise me something, but then forget about me. I’m like that toy that you used to love. As you grow older and get more worldy, I’m thrown in a closet and then sold to someone else, who might love me like you did.
Kharrington
I had forgotten what it ment just to hold hands with someone without thinking, to learn more about someone in silence than chatting, to just feel let the stream of my consciousness flow towards her, to see how we match, how we smile together.
Words of last years prayers, bring me back to the waters edge where we first meet.
Let me see those hands, that face, those eyes…
the fish and the sun dazzle to night sky with purple and orange; a magnificent painting of wholeness and great deity.
Take the little shells and place them all around the sandy road of nothingness; step each step with your heart , my heart, and our love.
Let us ring the bells of joyous heavens and not be afraid of the devil who may bear us.
It’s been so long since I had that kind of life that I’ve nearly forgotten everything about it. I guess I don’t miss it, though, or I’d still live like that.
lying in a ditch with mud in your eyes. wondering who will come to your funeral but knowing the answer is as singular as the sun in the skies
Courtney Garrity
she remembers what it’s like to be forgotten. she sits on a rug by a fireplace, warm and happy and surrounded by love, and yet a part of her remains cold and distant, aware of the shadow that looms beside her, that will mark the end of her joy. it does so with everyone, after all.
the fuzzy red sock lay there at the bottom of the mist, sad and forgotten. as she past it on her way to work she considered the sock, wondering how someone could possibly lose just one.
one person in the beach all around him there is people but no one can see him cause he cant see himself
daniela
Forgotten.. I hope im never this. i would hate to be. especially with all i try to do with my life. i hope she never forgets me (olivia.) i dont want her to… i ll never forget her, and i hope she knows that.. unless i get some sort of memory syndrome where… i dont remember anything.. like alzheimers or something… that would suck.
Omg72pfm
“I’ve forgotten where I’ve put the tax disc,” Cynthia said.
“What? It’s not in the car?”
“I wouldn’t be making an issue of it if it was, now would I?” She rolled her eyes.
Paul’s brows snapped together in irritation. “Okay, where did you have it last?”
“If I knew that I wouldn’t have lost it, would I?”
Shelma Vaughan
I feel forgotten when my friends tell me they don’t want to see me any more. The feeling just takes over you and you have no idea why they do it, and it makes no sense, but it happens anyway. You feel helpless and you just want to crawl away and cry, but you know you can’t because that’s not what you’re supposed to do, you’re supposed to fix the impossibility of it all.
Jensen Means
Forgotten. That’s what Kailey realized she was. A streak of panic flashed through her.
Oh please, she told herself. I’m 14 and I can take care of myself. I’m not afraid of creepers. Who would steal me, anyway? I’m nothing special.
Still, there’s just something weird about being left at Wal-Mart. I mean, I swear, that’s the worst place to be left! Wal-Mart, where people in pajamas shop with their hair all gross and unwashed. Why couldn’t my older sister have left me somewhere cooler, like the mall?
Sigh.
Mildred
I feel forgotten everyday. No, I don’t think it’s deliberate. But maybe I’m just one of those people who are hard to remember because of my complexity. Forgotten. What a sad word.
It’s so hard to forget so many moments that you want people to forget. Embarrassment, mortification and you panic because you think if I still remember, do they? You pray they do and it’s never brought up again but deep inside, you never know.
sometimes, you feel something like that, but it doesent have to be that word thats in question. maybe its just calm, for a second. or the sixty ones
No one wants to be forgotten. What could be worse than being completely forgettable. I wish i could forget mistakes, but it seems impossible
Nothing was forgotten. It was all there, loaded in the truck. The old ramshackle house was empty, every last miscellaneous object having been packed or thrown away. All that was left was to say goodbye to the only home he had ever known, his haven, his castle. That could not be forgotten.
The things that I remember when I see this word are better left just that; forgotten.
Why have I been forgotten? I must matter to someone, somewhere. No one seems to care much anymore. I gave nothing but love,and it was ignored by everyone but those without a choice. The music of my life was not written this way. It’s been played out of tune. I need someone to care, but I’ll get by somehow.
Oh. The saddest adjective. Why are some things easily forgotten and others burned into our brain seemingly irreversibly? Forgetfulness can be a curse, but also a blessing
I forgot where my socks went I forgot to add a period after that sentence I forgot to invite my best friend to my birthday party now I’m not her best friend I think I was forgotten in a gas station and they drove on without me. I think that my dentist appointment was forgotten and im actually glad but whatever a forgotten cavity always comes back to haunt you to make sure it will never again be forgotten well that’s my day –what day? Um Ive forgotten…
Usually I feel forgotten, but recently that has changed. I don’t find myself sitting alone in my room thinking deep thoughts that lead to me to confusion; now I think those thoughts through and see the silver lining WITH someone.
I let it happen so quickly. before we even saw each other it was gone, that light, that glimmer, disappeared into the dust. swaying like lucid dreams and sad trees, they smiled at us. waving as the bus drove away, memories.
She lay in the grass, her head slumped over the pebbles, and her hands flat by her side.
She was alone on a long stretch of beach. She was all alone on Long Island Sound.
Given the events of the last few days, of course, she shouldn’t have been surprised.
But she’d been forgotten. She’d been left alone.
Her family… and her friends… everyone she had cared about had left her and she did the only thing she knew how.
There were two large gashes in each of her wrists, and blood pooled on the ground.
She had killed herself; Sera Thorne was dead.
Gone, but not forgotten, the places of the past, wrapped in all the memories we have to make them last. Each day they recede further, but yet they’re always here, because memories of places are part of who we are. Gone but not forgotten, until one day they are, when no one left remembers just what those places were.
I think I’ve forgotten all the good things from my childhood… they’ve been wrapped up in a jumble of psychological knots. All good things get forgotten.
To be abandoned is to be forgotten. To be forgotten is to be unknown. To be unknown is to be unloved. To be unloved is to be non existent. To be non existent is to be with out life.
i forget a lot of things but for some reason i always forget the most important things to me but always remember things important to other people.
He feels like he’s moved on. He tells his sister and himself that he’s moved on. But he hasn’t forgotten. He hasn’t even gotten close to forgetting how he felt. Confusion and anxiety, alone and desperate. He remembers everything exactly, as though he feel in love just yesterday.
There lies a whole sea of abandoned lives. Not on purpose mind you, just lost and unable to be rescued, back into the warmth and comfort of the present. Oh this doesn’t happen nowadays, with advanced location technology and retrieval at the snap of a finger.
This doesn’t help the forgotten ones though. We think of them and lower our eyes in silent respect. The colors they used to bring to life, hidden.
Sometimes I’m in a drug haze simply because the anti-depressant medications I’m on decide that perhaps, that day, I am okay and don’t need as much of the medication. So it sits in my bloodstream, floating in and out of various areas of my brain, dulling my spark and numbing my creativity. I resent those drugs bitterly.
I have forgotten how it feels to be completely carefree. And it seems that I have forgotten just how special and unique life is and that I should rejoice to it. I have forgotten to be genuinely happy.
Such a strong word. Forgotten. The word itself brings painful memories. Lost. Forgotten. Left alone. Unloved. Alone. I feel the pain in my chest when I really think about the word. Forgotten. The pain is in my chest where my heart is. Forgotten.
I’ve forgotten so much in my life. This is due to neurological condition though. In a perverse way, the condition has made me hate photography. If it’s forgotten, i don’t want to see it again, in some artificial way. I cherish my own memories, flawed as they are.
The worst feeling in the world is being forgotten. Knowing that someone did not care for you enough to remember that you even exist.
When in life you’re alone, you often remember thing that you have forgotten. Or better still, you tried to forget. How you fought with your brother when you were two. How your dad did not allow you to drive the car. How your friends from school did bully you. How your mom cared for you, despite her own illness. Things that you have forgotten, make you who you are today. Will you remember this?
abandoned and alone, left to rot.
there’s no hope for those who can’t even be brought to memory
the spaces between my memories are the ones i miss the most
they might as well have not existed at all
Gone like paper’s ash in the wind, her memory floated away and I couldn’t bring myself to catch it. Perhaps things would be better this way. The less reminders of her, the faster I could move on.
I felt a tear slide from my socket and wrap around my cheek. It swam close to my ear and whispered, “it’s okay to be sad,” before disappearing behind my neck.
“No it isn’t,” I told the tear.
I feel like you have forgotten me. I remember you so well is what makes that so hard for me. Where did you go? I’m so far apart from where I was with you that I can’t think of you without pain.
I feel like i’ve forgotten you, but not forgotten our love. You are a part of me I can’t let go, I need you to breathe. I cant take this being away from you. i miss you. you are not forgotten.
That is me. You can promise me something, but then forget about me. I’m like that toy that you used to love. As you grow older and get more worldy, I’m thrown in a closet and then sold to someone else, who might love me like you did.
I had forgotten what it ment just to hold hands with someone without thinking, to learn more about someone in silence than chatting, to just feel let the stream of my consciousness flow towards her, to see how we match, how we smile together.
Words of last years prayers, bring me back to the waters edge where we first meet.
Let me see those hands, that face, those eyes…
the fish and the sun dazzle to night sky with purple and orange; a magnificent painting of wholeness and great deity.
Take the little shells and place them all around the sandy road of nothingness; step each step with your heart , my heart, and our love.
Let us ring the bells of joyous heavens and not be afraid of the devil who may bear us.
It’s been so long since I had that kind of life that I’ve nearly forgotten everything about it. I guess I don’t miss it, though, or I’d still live like that.
lying in a ditch with mud in your eyes. wondering who will come to your funeral but knowing the answer is as singular as the sun in the skies
she remembers what it’s like to be forgotten. she sits on a rug by a fireplace, warm and happy and surrounded by love, and yet a part of her remains cold and distant, aware of the shadow that looms beside her, that will mark the end of her joy. it does so with everyone, after all.
the fuzzy red sock lay there at the bottom of the mist, sad and forgotten. as she past it on her way to work she considered the sock, wondering how someone could possibly lose just one.
one person in the beach all around him there is people but no one can see him cause he cant see himself
Forgotten.. I hope im never this. i would hate to be. especially with all i try to do with my life. i hope she never forgets me (olivia.) i dont want her to… i ll never forget her, and i hope she knows that.. unless i get some sort of memory syndrome where… i dont remember anything.. like alzheimers or something… that would suck.
“I’ve forgotten where I’ve put the tax disc,” Cynthia said.
“What? It’s not in the car?”
“I wouldn’t be making an issue of it if it was, now would I?” She rolled her eyes.
Paul’s brows snapped together in irritation. “Okay, where did you have it last?”
“If I knew that I wouldn’t have lost it, would I?”
I feel forgotten when my friends tell me they don’t want to see me any more. The feeling just takes over you and you have no idea why they do it, and it makes no sense, but it happens anyway. You feel helpless and you just want to crawl away and cry, but you know you can’t because that’s not what you’re supposed to do, you’re supposed to fix the impossibility of it all.
Forgotten. That’s what Kailey realized she was. A streak of panic flashed through her.
Oh please, she told herself. I’m 14 and I can take care of myself. I’m not afraid of creepers. Who would steal me, anyway? I’m nothing special.
Still, there’s just something weird about being left at Wal-Mart. I mean, I swear, that’s the worst place to be left! Wal-Mart, where people in pajamas shop with their hair all gross and unwashed. Why couldn’t my older sister have left me somewhere cooler, like the mall?
Sigh.
I feel forgotten everyday. No, I don’t think it’s deliberate. But maybe I’m just one of those people who are hard to remember because of my complexity. Forgotten. What a sad word.