even after all these years, there remain many choices
not one of them considered ‘right’
so don’t you dare impress upon me your values
your ideas
your thoughts
impose on me your precious opinions
you may pick your path
but I’ll pick mine
;;
I walk along the dying garden’s pathway. I’m barefoot. I sense the dryness of the land beneath my tender souls as crisp grasses and dead vines scratch and poke. The dust I stir with each step cakes into the creases of my freshly oiled skin. Upon my brow I bear the Crescent Crown. The ritual is a journey to the Sanctuary. Within there’s an Azure-silk bed yet the destination lays beyond the sheets. Mars, Jupiter and the Moon align in triangle above the golden dais through the skylight in the open dome. I pass between rows of Mother Goddesses at the threshold of the Sanctuary and note the cleverness of the artisans. The statues begin to leak milk and honey from their marbled breasts. Beneath the pillared bases are smoldering coals. The wax plugs have fully melted now. My pacing is perfect. The first step into the Sanctuary refreshes me as the stone is cool to the touch. Soon the heat evaporates from my skin as a chill prickles across my chest. Beyond the azure curtains, reflecting the light of all the gilded torches amid the ambiance of stars above, are a set of eyes not my own. And so it begins. Until dawn…
Tell me it matters which pathway I take…I only need to choose a path-any path-instead of being paralyzed by fear and inaction, and standing at the crossroads, looking at the pathways.
Sharon
The pathway was blocked so we turned back. Stumbling over branches and roots, we felt as if we were hardly moving at all. At last we came out of the clearing into the bright sun.
The pathway leads any where you want it to go it can go, to the future, the past or you can stay right were you are even if the road is maid of lava it won’t sink as long as you believe.
Rebecca
I like of pathway with my love.
Raelisson Walter
The narrow pathway down the hall. Dark, alone, empty. Run. Run as fast as you can down it, slide on your knees and laugh by yourself. You aren’t alone in this world, you know. You always have your own company.
I walked down the pathway to the store and i ran into a whore. She was sweet tho, in fact she didnt even seem like a whore. What does a whore seem like anyway? So after I got my shit i walked back up the pathway.
Ioan Delice
She took flight and suddenly there was a pathway in the air. It’s not possible but it was there–and she followed it. Suddenly, she was no longer on Earth, and she didn’t know how to get back. But she didn’t worry about it.
Audrey
There are many pathways to take in this false reality that we choose to follow. From here on now, the person you have come to create; is just another chosen pathway that has led you to become what you think you are. You will go on, and chose another path and find you own way.
chris
The pathway that led up to the old fashioned mansion was littered withe dead leaves and fallen branches. The house itself had a forbidding and menacing appearance. The pathway only made it look more unwelcome.
Doing this is much harder than I thought – watching the EURO games and trying to think of something to write with this word.
Carmel Pathways. That was the name of the homework organizer in HS, but now I’m thinking that was Carmel Connections, and Pathways was the name of it in Jr. High. Weird what info we remember, yeah?
Too many pathways to possibly choose from had opened up before me. I’d have been better off with none. At least then I’d know, I could say, “Hey, no choice here.” Because in a way an abundance of choice, the sort that overwhelms you like an immigrant from a third world country standing lost in a grocery aisle dedicated solely to hundreds of boxes of colorful cereals, works the same as someone taking away your say. You can speak and point, but there’s no power in it. You’re still frozen in place, you still lack any useful knowledge, you’re still hopeless.
I wish someone would just point me in the right direction.
Amanda
I walked through a pathway.
I got lost in the pathway.
I found myself in the pathway.
I will never go into the pathway again.
I seriously hope I don’t have to go into the pathway again.
I hate the pathway.
Well, maybe I like the pathway a little.
I walked down the white pathway, strewn with flower petals.
He smiled at me, and I smiled back.
The crowd was in silent suspense, and instrumental romantic music played in the background.
She looked down the forest, watching the worn path twist into the unseen parts of the light. Where did it go? She itched to follow it, but she turned on her heels and walked back to her house, shaking the thought out of her head. Temporarily.
She saw the path in her sleep.
going through a deep feeling and it is complicated you realize all you want is nothing but a long beautiful pathway where you can walk through and have some time with yourself.
Ashwini Wanjari
Pathway is a path which leads from one place to another.
sometimes it is easy to find a path and sometimes you require someone’s help like google maps.
same goes with your life.
sometimes you exactly know where to go and sometimes you just need to stumble and fall down n divert to find the right pathway to happiness.
The highway is empty, cars are coming very fast next to us, it is highly raining and it is night. This is Germany. No holes, everything is simple and perfect. There is only one way forward. The rain is pushed to the sides in a uniform rythm, like in the Major Tom – the german one. This is the road simplicity for a long time. I will be home some time in the future. Don’t think about time. Concentrate on the next minute. And don’t go to sleep.
I walked along the way, and came to a bend in the road. The road turned up a hill, and the brown-gold paving stones turned into stairs. But these steps were not also stone, but books, dusty and leather-bound and worn from their time in the dirt. At first I was appalled, vowing to climb through the brush instead of step on such books. But they were steps toward knowledge and greatness, I realized, and so I climbed.
your synapses rapid-firing, one neural pathway after another – these are the last wet choking seconds of your life — flicker, flicker as the fire dies and fades.
The guiding way, the one that tells us which way to go to move forward. Those not on the pathway are in the wilderness, those in the wilderness must be lost. Isn’t that what we are told? Isn’t that how it is portrayed. I have always thought it was that way, always looking for my pathway, my golden ticket to a happy life. Perhaps my pathway is more like a trail though, and it is not the pathway that has been the problem but instead my idea of what it should have been.
The engulfing forest was dark and full of strange noises – the chirping of insects, the call of birds and noises which sounded like giant jaws eating. The children held hands and continue to walk. “Let’s walk faster,” Annabel said to her brother. “I can barely see the pathway.” They continued on, afraid to go forward and afraid to stop. When the light vanished altogether, they slid their feet across the smooth surface. Finally, they had to sleep.
The counselor I was sitting across from didn’t look the least bit enthused while responding. “Frankly, I only see one pathway for you,” he intoned, “if you don’t pass senior English – and that’s summer school. There are plenty of programs that would be willing to take you in…”
“Or,” I countered, “you know, I could just drop out and continue to work at the car shop because it’s kind of what I want to do with my life – that’s two pathways now, isn’t it?”
even after all these years, there remain many choices
not one of them considered ‘right’
so don’t you dare impress upon me your values
your ideas
your thoughts
impose on me your precious opinions
you may pick your path
but I’ll pick mine
I walk along the dying garden’s pathway. I’m barefoot. I sense the dryness of the land beneath my tender souls as crisp grasses and dead vines scratch and poke. The dust I stir with each step cakes into the creases of my freshly oiled skin. Upon my brow I bear the Crescent Crown. The ritual is a journey to the Sanctuary. Within there’s an Azure-silk bed yet the destination lays beyond the sheets. Mars, Jupiter and the Moon align in triangle above the golden dais through the skylight in the open dome. I pass between rows of Mother Goddesses at the threshold of the Sanctuary and note the cleverness of the artisans. The statues begin to leak milk and honey from their marbled breasts. Beneath the pillared bases are smoldering coals. The wax plugs have fully melted now. My pacing is perfect. The first step into the Sanctuary refreshes me as the stone is cool to the touch. Soon the heat evaporates from my skin as a chill prickles across my chest. Beyond the azure curtains, reflecting the light of all the gilded torches amid the ambiance of stars above, are a set of eyes not my own. And so it begins. Until dawn…
Tell me it matters which pathway I take…I only need to choose a path-any path-instead of being paralyzed by fear and inaction, and standing at the crossroads, looking at the pathways.
The pathway was blocked so we turned back. Stumbling over branches and roots, we felt as if we were hardly moving at all. At last we came out of the clearing into the bright sun.
The pathway leads any where you want it to go it can go, to the future, the past or you can stay right were you are even if the road is maid of lava it won’t sink as long as you believe.
I like of pathway with my love.
The narrow pathway down the hall. Dark, alone, empty. Run. Run as fast as you can down it, slide on your knees and laugh by yourself. You aren’t alone in this world, you know. You always have your own company.
I walked down the pathway to the store and i ran into a whore. She was sweet tho, in fact she didnt even seem like a whore. What does a whore seem like anyway? So after I got my shit i walked back up the pathway.
She took flight and suddenly there was a pathway in the air. It’s not possible but it was there–and she followed it. Suddenly, she was no longer on Earth, and she didn’t know how to get back. But she didn’t worry about it.
There are many pathways to take in this false reality that we choose to follow. From here on now, the person you have come to create; is just another chosen pathway that has led you to become what you think you are. You will go on, and chose another path and find you own way.
The pathway that led up to the old fashioned mansion was littered withe dead leaves and fallen branches. The house itself had a forbidding and menacing appearance. The pathway only made it look more unwelcome.
Doing this is much harder than I thought – watching the EURO games and trying to think of something to write with this word.
Carmel Pathways. That was the name of the homework organizer in HS, but now I’m thinking that was Carmel Connections, and Pathways was the name of it in Jr. High. Weird what info we remember, yeah?
Too many pathways to possibly choose from had opened up before me. I’d have been better off with none. At least then I’d know, I could say, “Hey, no choice here.” Because in a way an abundance of choice, the sort that overwhelms you like an immigrant from a third world country standing lost in a grocery aisle dedicated solely to hundreds of boxes of colorful cereals, works the same as someone taking away your say. You can speak and point, but there’s no power in it. You’re still frozen in place, you still lack any useful knowledge, you’re still hopeless.
I wish someone would just point me in the right direction.
I walked through a pathway.
I got lost in the pathway.
I found myself in the pathway.
I will never go into the pathway again.
I seriously hope I don’t have to go into the pathway again.
I hate the pathway.
Well, maybe I like the pathway a little.
I walked down the white pathway, strewn with flower petals.
He smiled at me, and I smiled back.
The crowd was in silent suspense, and instrumental romantic music played in the background.
i walked through the parkway.
the pathway was fun
i loved walking through the pathway
Long and winding as it stretches out to the horizon. Broken and scattered smooth stones cover the quiet earth
She looked down the forest, watching the worn path twist into the unseen parts of the light. Where did it go? She itched to follow it, but she turned on her heels and walked back to her house, shaking the thought out of her head. Temporarily.
She saw the path in her sleep.
going through a deep feeling and it is complicated you realize all you want is nothing but a long beautiful pathway where you can walk through and have some time with yourself.
Pathway is a path which leads from one place to another.
sometimes it is easy to find a path and sometimes you require someone’s help like google maps.
same goes with your life.
sometimes you exactly know where to go and sometimes you just need to stumble and fall down n divert to find the right pathway to happiness.
going through a deep feeling na
“Nothing” is the pathway to wisdom
Singularity
1. a snowfield
blank paper
a heavy canvas sail
snaps in the backing wind
2. aerial views
a vacuum
negative sound
as in negative space
3. a man places his key in the door
enters his house
4. sleep
5. a series of flashcards
perfume
hair
an apple, with leaves
6. wake
7. walking
deep winter
lost pieces
remain so
8. a man enters his house
intimate and familiar
as a kiss
a house lit by
the tidal force
of absence
12.6.16
The highway is empty, cars are coming very fast next to us, it is highly raining and it is night. This is Germany. No holes, everything is simple and perfect. There is only one way forward. The rain is pushed to the sides in a uniform rythm, like in the Major Tom – the german one. This is the road simplicity for a long time. I will be home some time in the future. Don’t think about time. Concentrate on the next minute. And don’t go to sleep.
I walked along the way, and came to a bend in the road. The road turned up a hill, and the brown-gold paving stones turned into stairs. But these steps were not also stone, but books, dusty and leather-bound and worn from their time in the dirt. At first I was appalled, vowing to climb through the brush instead of step on such books. But they were steps toward knowledge and greatness, I realized, and so I climbed.
your synapses rapid-firing, one neural pathway after another – these are the last wet choking seconds of your life — flicker, flicker as the fire dies and fades.
The guiding way, the one that tells us which way to go to move forward. Those not on the pathway are in the wilderness, those in the wilderness must be lost. Isn’t that what we are told? Isn’t that how it is portrayed. I have always thought it was that way, always looking for my pathway, my golden ticket to a happy life. Perhaps my pathway is more like a trail though, and it is not the pathway that has been the problem but instead my idea of what it should have been.
The engulfing forest was dark and full of strange noises – the chirping of insects, the call of birds and noises which sounded like giant jaws eating. The children held hands and continue to walk. “Let’s walk faster,” Annabel said to her brother. “I can barely see the pathway.” They continued on, afraid to go forward and afraid to stop. When the light vanished altogether, they slid their feet across the smooth surface. Finally, they had to sleep.
“So what do I do now?”
The counselor I was sitting across from didn’t look the least bit enthused while responding. “Frankly, I only see one pathway for you,” he intoned, “if you don’t pass senior English – and that’s summer school. There are plenty of programs that would be willing to take you in…”
“Or,” I countered, “you know, I could just drop out and continue to work at the car shop because it’s kind of what I want to do with my life – that’s two pathways now, isn’t it?”