Alone, by myself, oneness, individuality, first. As I stood, ready to confront the day, I knew I was alone in my conviction. A solitaire thought, a solitaire action and a solitaire response. So, I stand alone, facing my own conviction, owing the world nothing but a solitaire goodbye…
One time Ruth tried to teach me how to play solitare. It was with traditional cards. I sucked. I could never really get the hang of the game. I caught on with FreeCell much quicker, which is like easy solitare. I don’t know why I can’t get normal solitare. *shrug*
Yvonne
I never learned how to play solitaire. It kind of makes me depressed when I’m alone. Because I have this deck of cards and no one to play with. And since I don’t know solitaire, I sit there and contemplate how aloneness feels and how words can never accurately describe it and how everything always sounds better when someone else writes it. Then I promise myself that I’ll get someone to teach me next time. And then I don’t. And it happens all over again.
A solitaire gem gleams in the darkness, calling out to the weary soul. Begging you to take it away from it’s cage, and take it to see the world. To show it the people, the sights, the music, and the beauty of the world.
With you I just can’t compute
I neve had this kind of trouble
but with you, everything feels different
why is this?
when I want something so bad
it just doesn’t work
angeliquefurr
Here I sit in solitaire watching the leaves blow by.
I can still see you sitting there. It makes me wanna cry.
he sat on the plane planning his next bathroom trip. the big fat man that sat next to him breathed too loudly and had been in there for over…fourty-five minutes. he was finding it hard to concentrate on his game of solitaire when his bladder was bursting with pain. he regretted the five jameson on the rocks he had drank. he fidgeted in his seat. his discomfort was feeding his rage. he tried to tell himself he was just drunk, he got overly impatient when he was drunk. but as he tried to talk himself down form running up to the lavatory door and banging on it while yelling “GET OUT YOU FAT BASTARD! HAVENT YOU SHITTED ALL OF YOUR BRAINS OUT YET? LIKE YOU HAD ANY TO BEGIN WITH IN THE FIRST PLACE!” he realized it was too late. a taser accompanied by an elbow digging in between his shoulder blades by the undercover airplane security snapped him out of his rage fit.
She had been alone for much of her life, but of her own choice. She liked to sit and think thoughts, go for long solitary walks, and she liked gardening. She liked the way the earth smelled.
once a jolly swagman sat playing until dawn
lonely nights lead to mournful morns
i lie beside you every night
comfort in blankets and make-believe caves
there is one card left.
rabblerocket
Orange suit, grey walls. Only orange and grey exist in this place. 6 by 3 — she knows exactly how many paces long and wide the room is. Sometimes, she feels like every breath she takes is stealing air from the room. Those are the nights she wakes up sweating.
pecatrix
Solitaire: the game for the solitary. But here they were, he watching as she dealt the cards.
He watched, so intent on catching every single move she made. He bit back his tongue when he wanted to correct her because he knew it was much more important she just play.
So she placed a red on a red and 10 on a 9, but he didn’t say anything.
Oh I know this. It’s the card game, that I use to always watch my grandma play on the dinosaur computers but never really understood how to play it myself. Which I always found kind of irritating because I loved playing with cards and preferred entertaining myself. So it was an ideal game for me, I just never learned it.
Silver
your love is a solitarire.
empty and unassuming,
i run.
back to solitarie confinement.
your heart.
kristin
Solitaire. It isn’t surprising the root word is solitary. Lay out the cards. Attempt to match them. No partner needed. No one but yourself. That’s all I ever needed.
Kimberly
solitaire, it always relaxed him. something about just being alone and not having to work on a team. it reminded him of when he was 7 and his grandfather taught him the game because he could not sit still. maybe thats why he liked solitaire so much..
still.
quiet.
peace.
i can hear myself.
but then i want to tell you.
jen kin
With no one to play with
the soul shuffles the cards
and lays them out
Only for the cold wind to scatter them about in a whirlwind of games
And once again
The player is alone
It is a game where you play for hours on end until you win. You only have to beat yourself you what do you have to lose? The computer is your enemy. It decides what cards you are going to be dealt. It decides how many moves it is going to take until you line up all the cards in the right order. Solitaire is fun.
Chantal
The man was playing Solitaire, sitting alone on the bus. I watched over his shoulder, taking note of the moves he made and what he could have done better, but I won’t help him. In this society, nobody welcomes help from strangers.
I placed the cards boredly in front of me, I really hated this game. They said it was only for people who were alone and, well, it was kind of true/ I really hated Solitaire the card game for people alone. Lonely people. How sad is that, right? And I was playing it. I’m all alone.
Aspen
Solitaire … the game you can play when you are lonely. Now you can play it on the computer, the ordeal of continually dealing the cards is at an end. Play it when you are depressed or want to get your mind off a problem … it works … the problem is still there but for 10 minutes, your mind isn’t dwelling on it
Chris
Solitaire.
A game you play alone.
Perhaps a game to leave you to your thoughts.
Perhaps a game to play when you are lonely.
Cards, cards, ace of hearts.
Solitaire. Alone.
Madeleine Silvers
i think of childhood. i think of hours spent in my grandpa’s study, playing spider solitaire. black on red, black on red.
looking back,
i wish i had spent those precious moments with my grandmother.
sweet, kind, beautiful lady that wouldn’t be downstairs of that study for much longer
I always play solitaire on my ipod when I am bored. It helps me pass the time when I am waiting for my little brothers karate class to be over; sitting in the car; or listening to podcasts.
shuffle the cards.
play the game.
all there is to do is see what happens.
not a perfect match?
ah, but wait, another behind this one awaits.
this card should do just fine.
just you and me, kid. you my black and red and white beauty. i’ll lay you out in front of me. then the game begins. i look for order, stack number on number, queen on king, on you.
I was playing solitaire. The odds of me winning were, in fact, astronomical. In fact, most of the time I would lose rather than win. But it was oh so addicting. I could not stop myself from playing; it was like a drug. Alternate red and black, in descending order. Oh my God, an Ace! This was better than the rush I had when using those needles. That rush was nothing compared to sticking the ace of spades in the top right corner.
Andres Gonzalez
I love you, I love you, I don’t love you anymore. You’re not what I want now. Cobachi, Sonora, Mexico is my dream. My ridiculous dream. My en-ethical dream. We’ve fallen in love. From it’s caves, to it’s ranches, and beautiful people.
As I lay in my bed, alone with thoughts flooding my head.
I hear a voice that echoes within.
Shaking me, I try to pretend.
I know I hear it, but I refuse to obey.
Close my eyes, for now I pray.
And sleep comes fast, and eyes are closed.
It’s bound to happen again soon
Everyone knows…
He was a solitaire. By himself. The rest of the troops had abandoned him, as he had looked so close to death. Perhaps he was, but at the moment, he was alive. The sky was a murky gray, but there must have been sunlight somewhere behind the clouds, for he could see a slightly lighter patch of sky. He dared not look down at this body, for he was sure most of it was gone, and what was still there, was probably mutilated beyond repair. His eye lids felt like ten-pound dumbbells on his face. They wouldn’t stay open- but he knew that to sleep, was to die. But then, perhaps that’d be easier…
Every day, almost, I play solitaire on my iPod. Like it’s an addiction. And the thing is, I’m SO bad at it. I think I’m something like 22-150. You’d think that after playing for literally 5 years, I’d win at least AS MUCH as I lose, but nope. It’s just my plague of mediocrity. I used to date a girl who literally never lost a game of solitaire.
Michael Garrity
haha..
the many days during summer, when i’d wake up at 1 pm, i’d sit with my brother in the family room, and we’d play two separate games of solitaire. side by side, but playing separate. competing to see who could actually solve the puzzle.
that is, i’d play when i wasn’t texting you..
…
goddamn it..
does everything have to remind me of those months?!
I used to think about playing solitaire like a computer would. Or do they mean like a solitaire diamond? Those look like they’d just get caught on something. Anyway, solitaire: symbol of togetherness AND of loneliness. What a strange combination.
Jenn
I am alone. So alone. So cold. Solitary. Alone in my head. My thoughts are bumping into each other. They’re cold too. It’s like ice breaking off every time they crash. I can’t stand it. So many shards of sharp splintering cold. I feel like i’m breaking.
Lonely evenings, boring office days. WHy is it always alone? why wont anyone wake me up and play with me? solitairy confinement in this corporate world. i think death would come easier if someone missed me. stupid cards
emma
a room full of people, all kind of conversations, all kind o ideas going through the air .. anyway this room could be empty and u’ll be in th exact same postion, with the exact same thoughts.. its a state of mind, not the amount of people around
I used to play solitaire as a kid. I’d flip the cards around, while the rain silently poured on my window. I’d sit there, somewhat intrigued by the whole idea. But I’d also be content and relaxed. Lately, being by myself was more golden than being with anybody else.
Alone, by myself, oneness, individuality, first. As I stood, ready to confront the day, I knew I was alone in my conviction. A solitaire thought, a solitaire action and a solitaire response. So, I stand alone, facing my own conviction, owing the world nothing but a solitaire goodbye…
One time Ruth tried to teach me how to play solitare. It was with traditional cards. I sucked. I could never really get the hang of the game. I caught on with FreeCell much quicker, which is like easy solitare. I don’t know why I can’t get normal solitare. *shrug*
I never learned how to play solitaire. It kind of makes me depressed when I’m alone. Because I have this deck of cards and no one to play with. And since I don’t know solitaire, I sit there and contemplate how aloneness feels and how words can never accurately describe it and how everything always sounds better when someone else writes it. Then I promise myself that I’ll get someone to teach me next time. And then I don’t. And it happens all over again.
It’s the focus of your wedding ring. It’s pearl or diamond, and you have to admire it once in a while to give it its hue and glitter.
I have a teacher who cares. She’s sparked me with a scintilla of knowledge, and fostered within me a burning desire for continual grwoth and learning.
There are some people you have to appreciate. Some people you can’t go without acknowledging.
She’s quite a solitaire to me.
A solitaire gem gleams in the darkness, calling out to the weary soul. Begging you to take it away from it’s cage, and take it to see the world. To show it the people, the sights, the music, and the beauty of the world.
With you I just can’t compute
I neve had this kind of trouble
but with you, everything feels different
why is this?
when I want something so bad
it just doesn’t work
Here I sit in solitaire watching the leaves blow by.
I can still see you sitting there. It makes me wanna cry.
he sat on the plane planning his next bathroom trip. the big fat man that sat next to him breathed too loudly and had been in there for over…fourty-five minutes. he was finding it hard to concentrate on his game of solitaire when his bladder was bursting with pain. he regretted the five jameson on the rocks he had drank. he fidgeted in his seat. his discomfort was feeding his rage. he tried to tell himself he was just drunk, he got overly impatient when he was drunk. but as he tried to talk himself down form running up to the lavatory door and banging on it while yelling “GET OUT YOU FAT BASTARD! HAVENT YOU SHITTED ALL OF YOUR BRAINS OUT YET? LIKE YOU HAD ANY TO BEGIN WITH IN THE FIRST PLACE!” he realized it was too late. a taser accompanied by an elbow digging in between his shoulder blades by the undercover airplane security snapped him out of his rage fit.
She had been alone for much of her life, but of her own choice. She liked to sit and think thoughts, go for long solitary walks, and she liked gardening. She liked the way the earth smelled.
once a jolly swagman sat playing until dawn
lonely nights lead to mournful morns
i lie beside you every night
comfort in blankets and make-believe caves
there is one card left.
Orange suit, grey walls. Only orange and grey exist in this place. 6 by 3 — she knows exactly how many paces long and wide the room is. Sometimes, she feels like every breath she takes is stealing air from the room. Those are the nights she wakes up sweating.
Solitaire: the game for the solitary. But here they were, he watching as she dealt the cards.
He watched, so intent on catching every single move she made. He bit back his tongue when he wanted to correct her because he knew it was much more important she just play.
So she placed a red on a red and 10 on a 9, but he didn’t say anything.
Oh I know this. It’s the card game, that I use to always watch my grandma play on the dinosaur computers but never really understood how to play it myself. Which I always found kind of irritating because I loved playing with cards and preferred entertaining myself. So it was an ideal game for me, I just never learned it.
your love is a solitarire.
empty and unassuming,
i run.
back to solitarie confinement.
your heart.
Solitaire. It isn’t surprising the root word is solitary. Lay out the cards. Attempt to match them. No partner needed. No one but yourself. That’s all I ever needed.
solitaire, it always relaxed him. something about just being alone and not having to work on a team. it reminded him of when he was 7 and his grandfather taught him the game because he could not sit still. maybe thats why he liked solitaire so much..
still.
quiet.
peace.
i can hear myself.
but then i want to tell you.
With no one to play with
the soul shuffles the cards
and lays them out
Only for the cold wind to scatter them about in a whirlwind of games
And once again
The player is alone
Playing cards are layed across the table
The dealer looks shady
The player even more
The player contemplates the game
With keen eyes
Don’t need the reminder; that game’s been played – it’s old, worn out, missing in charm.
It is a game where you play for hours on end until you win. You only have to beat yourself you what do you have to lose? The computer is your enemy. It decides what cards you are going to be dealt. It decides how many moves it is going to take until you line up all the cards in the right order. Solitaire is fun.
The man was playing Solitaire, sitting alone on the bus. I watched over his shoulder, taking note of the moves he made and what he could have done better, but I won’t help him. In this society, nobody welcomes help from strangers.
I placed the cards boredly in front of me, I really hated this game. They said it was only for people who were alone and, well, it was kind of true/ I really hated Solitaire the card game for people alone. Lonely people. How sad is that, right? And I was playing it. I’m all alone.
Solitaire … the game you can play when you are lonely. Now you can play it on the computer, the ordeal of continually dealing the cards is at an end. Play it when you are depressed or want to get your mind off a problem … it works … the problem is still there but for 10 minutes, your mind isn’t dwelling on it
Solitaire.
A game you play alone.
Perhaps a game to leave you to your thoughts.
Perhaps a game to play when you are lonely.
Cards, cards, ace of hearts.
Solitaire. Alone.
i think of childhood. i think of hours spent in my grandpa’s study, playing spider solitaire. black on red, black on red.
looking back,
i wish i had spent those precious moments with my grandmother.
sweet, kind, beautiful lady that wouldn’t be downstairs of that study for much longer
I always play solitaire on my ipod when I am bored. It helps me pass the time when I am waiting for my little brothers karate class to be over; sitting in the car; or listening to podcasts.
shuffle the cards.
play the game.
all there is to do is see what happens.
not a perfect match?
ah, but wait, another behind this one awaits.
this card should do just fine.
just you and me, kid. you my black and red and white beauty. i’ll lay you out in front of me. then the game begins. i look for order, stack number on number, queen on king, on you.
I was playing solitaire. The odds of me winning were, in fact, astronomical. In fact, most of the time I would lose rather than win. But it was oh so addicting. I could not stop myself from playing; it was like a drug. Alternate red and black, in descending order. Oh my God, an Ace! This was better than the rush I had when using those needles. That rush was nothing compared to sticking the ace of spades in the top right corner.
I love you, I love you, I don’t love you anymore. You’re not what I want now. Cobachi, Sonora, Mexico is my dream. My ridiculous dream. My en-ethical dream. We’ve fallen in love. From it’s caves, to it’s ranches, and beautiful people.
As I lay in my bed, alone with thoughts flooding my head.
I hear a voice that echoes within.
Shaking me, I try to pretend.
I know I hear it, but I refuse to obey.
Close my eyes, for now I pray.
And sleep comes fast, and eyes are closed.
It’s bound to happen again soon
Everyone knows…
He was a solitaire. By himself. The rest of the troops had abandoned him, as he had looked so close to death. Perhaps he was, but at the moment, he was alive. The sky was a murky gray, but there must have been sunlight somewhere behind the clouds, for he could see a slightly lighter patch of sky. He dared not look down at this body, for he was sure most of it was gone, and what was still there, was probably mutilated beyond repair. His eye lids felt like ten-pound dumbbells on his face. They wouldn’t stay open- but he knew that to sleep, was to die. But then, perhaps that’d be easier…
Every day, almost, I play solitaire on my iPod. Like it’s an addiction. And the thing is, I’m SO bad at it. I think I’m something like 22-150. You’d think that after playing for literally 5 years, I’d win at least AS MUCH as I lose, but nope. It’s just my plague of mediocrity. I used to date a girl who literally never lost a game of solitaire.
haha..
the many days during summer, when i’d wake up at 1 pm, i’d sit with my brother in the family room, and we’d play two separate games of solitaire. side by side, but playing separate. competing to see who could actually solve the puzzle.
that is, i’d play when i wasn’t texting you..
…
goddamn it..
does everything have to remind me of those months?!
I used to think about playing solitaire like a computer would. Or do they mean like a solitaire diamond? Those look like they’d just get caught on something. Anyway, solitaire: symbol of togetherness AND of loneliness. What a strange combination.
I am alone. So alone. So cold. Solitary. Alone in my head. My thoughts are bumping into each other. They’re cold too. It’s like ice breaking off every time they crash. I can’t stand it. So many shards of sharp splintering cold. I feel like i’m breaking.
Lonely evenings, boring office days. WHy is it always alone? why wont anyone wake me up and play with me? solitairy confinement in this corporate world. i think death would come easier if someone missed me. stupid cards
a room full of people, all kind of conversations, all kind o ideas going through the air .. anyway this room could be empty and u’ll be in th exact same postion, with the exact same thoughts.. its a state of mind, not the amount of people around
I used to play solitaire as a kid. I’d flip the cards around, while the rain silently poured on my window. I’d sit there, somewhat intrigued by the whole idea. But I’d also be content and relaxed. Lately, being by myself was more golden than being with anybody else.