Struggle , its my sir name . Its my pathetic identity , my vintage(dollar store purchased) postcard disgusted to make me look like a world traveler ,yet I do not even have the courage to leave the town of my birth ( they automatically know my lunch order at the diner down the street , so I thought that was enough of a reason to stay ) . It is my shaky signature, written in blood , at the end of a suicide letter that I never intended to send in the first place (or kill myself , I just thought it would make for a good music video in my head to a soundtrack that makes me feel empowered (irony ??) . It is the perfume I wear to an empty and cold bed , even though I am betrothed. It is the song in my head that plays obnoxiously over and over again , like a easy listening sound machine that I can here in the next apartment …all night . Struggle is not for the faint of heart , for it is a mechanism in which makes you stronger than an ox , ready to climb the walls and cry out for all that is holy ……….
To struggle- to struggle is to not know you could have possibly been anywhere better; to wonder if things will have ever change. Or have they even changed at all? Was it all just a mistake, a misconception of what you were feeling?
the struggles of life seem a lot more intense than they actually are. has anyone ever thought that their lives are hard, imagine thinking about the lives of others. the difference between the two is the struggles you stumble upon are imcomparable to the struggles of others
Mia S
I struggled to get out of the water. I could feel it’s weight tugging at my legs, my arms, my shoulders, pulling me into its unexplored depths. I could not breathe, I could not think, all I could do was make myself sink deeper. Deeper. Deeper.
Sometimes, the pressure is much to heavy, as if the world – every stone, every tree, everything – were on my shoulders. To get up is a struggle. Sometimes, I can’t even breathe, to sieve all the poison and toxicity and have a fresh breathe is to much of a struggle. Then, I remember his words, “In this world you will have troubles, though fear not. I have overcome the world!”
Jose
When time bursts
my creativity bubble
zap!
zip, zilch
motivation’s gone
It’s the standard struggle.
She was on the strugglebus, for sure. The line of customers was reaching to the door. Her coworkers were moving at the awkward pace of slow but hurried. And here this lady was, trying to tell her that the way she’d said the order was wrong.
Look I’m done with this struggle and I am done listening to your bullshit. Everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be alright. You are going away my love, and I am done with you no matter what you say. Every morning I had to beg to wake up. All day I pushed back tears and did everything I could to make sure you were alright and okay and someday I pray you will see and understand my struggle. Goodbye
Since he was in highschool he always struggle to feel confident around everyone. Everything seemed out of place for him. Every word, persone, book and even himslef
Rob
despite the bounds on his wrist, he still struggled. He knew fairly well that he wasn’t getting anywhere but he needed to feel like he was trying and maybe, just maybe, if he continued long enough, he’d be free
Carrying out his plan would be not so difficult, the only struggle would be to do it so slowly, and with subtlety so that no one would notice it happening. If people noticed what was going on, they might join in, and that would make it complicated.
tonykeyesjapan
Being a teenager, the word struggle means a lot. Finding yourself, what you stand for and who you want to be, and finding someone else so you can be socially acceptable with them. Finishing homework, and balancing time. Doing out of school activities so you can get into a good college. All it really is is a struggle for air.
Brigid
‘”the struggle is real”
the struggle is not real for you
you don’t understand
stop taking our language
you ignorant cunt
stop taking our culture
and using it to look cool
stop taking our pain
and making us fools”
crazy… That’s what they are trying to do… THe whispers and the stares
the poking and the prodding
But I won’t let them
I am stronger
aaa
I struggled to hold my breath. It was horrifying. I couldn’t hold any longer. My head was spinning, my blood turned to ice. I felt faint. Then, I did something terrible. I let out a high-pitched scream.
Susie
It was such a struggle; trying to get Miley off that damn wrecking ball, that is. She was too busy singing about her troubles that she had lost her clothes and was convinced that a sledgehammer- a sledgehammer- was her latest boyfriend.
There was always a glint in his eye. A moment that hasnever left him. He can only be a person of being and never of what others see him. He cannot be anything els. Why then try. I havenot got any ideas for this man….you could say I am struggling with his struggles. I suppoose that is a cliche at themoments. What could be the
Serife Halil
Struggle for air, gasping and pounding the water as if it were a body that could bleed if only you hit it hard enough.
Struggle for consciousness with the cold overpowering everything else, numbing limbs and pain and everything you should be feeling but just can’t.
Struggle against the blackness, until it overcomes him and-
emma-lee
The struggle to see the top was immense. The fog was covering the mountain top, but our guide had said it wwas only a couple miles away. We had to be close. At the top we could somehow call for help. There had to be some kind of radio tower up there. Something, anything, that could save us
The rope bit into her wrists as she squirmed, trying to bite through the heavy cloth around her mouth to scream. Blood began to run down her fingers as she rubbed them against the rope, but she needed to be free, she had to escape, or she’ll die.
Juliet
Many people don’t know what it is to struggle in life. How it feels. How it affects you. The depression, anxiety, stress, and the emotional roller coaster it sends you on. Many people will not feel this in their life time, but i do. and i cant anymore.
struggling to pull myself up i weighed the pros and cons of just letting go. if i let go you see, i will fall to my death. but if i keep trying to pull myself up i can live. i was stuck because there was no possible way i could pull myself up alone.
dj
The two struggle to get the chain off the gate, and as it swings open, an unprecedented burst of cold air as thick as ice sweeps over them, nearly freezing the snot in their noses. Chuck sneezes loudly, grabbing his torch and waving it in front of his face. Tricia stands back, wide-eyed, staring at the scene.
“Chuck?”
“Yeh.”
“I don’t think someone’s lived on this property for a very, very long time.”
Belinda Roddie
theres plenty of it. but if you are persistent, you’ll prevail. it somtimes shapes who are and what we become in the future. it makes us resilient
terry
I’m struggling with my own reflection tonight
once again, you’d say, stop staring at your fears;
But I’m not who I should be, I reply, and I look in the mirror.
There is always something wrong
in my red dyed hair,
in my green and pale eyes,
in my trembling fingertips,
in my soft hips,
in my noisy head,
in my empty heart.
There is always
something
which is
escaping me.
gargouillis
The struggle of black people, starting from slavery. The hard labor hours, the whippings across our flesh, the abuse, rape, and humiliation. The struggle of having to be separated from our families, to be forced to an unfamiliar country. The struggle of escaping through dangerous parts with slave catchers on the hunt, trying to find food and shelter. The struggle of adapting to a different society, to make something of ourselves.
Suhailah
I struggle and struggle, but the plastic zip-tie around my wrists doesn’t give up even a millimeter of space. Looks as though I’ll be stuck here until the police arrive to save me or find my body.
He struggled to the surface, breaking it with a terrible roar. He flailed, desperate to feel the air in his lungs again. All he wanted was Chex mix. He wanted it so desperatelythat he couldn’t feel anything else.
Doug
Drew touched her shoulder, still struggling to understand what Olivia had just said. Three years of marriage, happy years in his opinion, and she’d just asked for a divorce? No, that wasn’t going to happen. “Listen, I’m sorry…if there’s anything I can do…”
“Drew…” She turned to face him, blue eyes filled with fresh tears. She pushed a few strands of blonde hair from her face and breathed in deeply. “Just leave me alone, okay?
Without another word, she shrugged off his hand and walked away. And out of his life.
AJ Kenobi
The alarm goes off
the cold light of the morning
shines through my blinds,
frost forms ice flakes on glass
windows and I struggle
to get out of bed.
Jesse rushed forward to steady Karen- she was struggling to move the heavy boxes on the top shelf and almost toppled over trying to get them.
Vivian
i’ve been wrestling with how to forget you and how to be okay with forgetting you. of course i need to, of course i want to leave it behind. i know it will be better then. but once i do i will have lost connection with you completely. it’s necessary, i know. but part of me doesn’t want to
Yasmine
learning to deal with problems in life is what keeps us living. struggle may rhyme with snuggle,but it is nowhere near the same thing. what we do with the problem is much more important and significant than the problem itself.
jim dale
Struggle is nothing but one of my journeys in life.
I can over come any struggle. It can not stop me.
Yolanda Carter
Water filled his lungs and he choked. His legs kicked wildly in every direction, not knowing where up was. Words flashed through his mind. Drowning. Water. Burning. Struggle. He was blind and deaf and mute. He was exhausted and fading fast.
Twisting and turning, she lost her way. Disoriented she stumbled, struggling just to stay on her feet. The wind was calling her name, but she couldn’t quite make it to the shore.
“Why don’t you look? You know you want to look for trouble,” I say. Like Chester the dog, I dance excited beside him as he walks a furious pace, his head down, his ego forever wounded from looking for trouble before and finding me. Silly sod. I dangle the topaz sparkles of trouble just inside his peripheral. I see his eye strain toward it, struggling to turn the whole of him toward it, but he will not. “Come on,” I plead, dead serious, “I will be nice this time…”
Struggle , its my sir name . Its my pathetic identity , my vintage(dollar store purchased) postcard disgusted to make me look like a world traveler ,yet I do not even have the courage to leave the town of my birth ( they automatically know my lunch order at the diner down the street , so I thought that was enough of a reason to stay ) . It is my shaky signature, written in blood , at the end of a suicide letter that I never intended to send in the first place (or kill myself , I just thought it would make for a good music video in my head to a soundtrack that makes me feel empowered (irony ??) . It is the perfume I wear to an empty and cold bed , even though I am betrothed. It is the song in my head that plays obnoxiously over and over again , like a easy listening sound machine that I can here in the next apartment …all night . Struggle is not for the faint of heart , for it is a mechanism in which makes you stronger than an ox , ready to climb the walls and cry out for all that is holy ……….
To struggle- to struggle is to not know you could have possibly been anywhere better; to wonder if things will have ever change. Or have they even changed at all? Was it all just a mistake, a misconception of what you were feeling?
fatigue
i can’t give up yet
burning—anerobic i think
battery flashing, vision flickering
how are they still moving
the struggles of life seem a lot more intense than they actually are. has anyone ever thought that their lives are hard, imagine thinking about the lives of others. the difference between the two is the struggles you stumble upon are imcomparable to the struggles of others
I struggled to get out of the water. I could feel it’s weight tugging at my legs, my arms, my shoulders, pulling me into its unexplored depths. I could not breathe, I could not think, all I could do was make myself sink deeper. Deeper. Deeper.
Sometimes, the pressure is much to heavy, as if the world – every stone, every tree, everything – were on my shoulders. To get up is a struggle. Sometimes, I can’t even breathe, to sieve all the poison and toxicity and have a fresh breathe is to much of a struggle. Then, I remember his words, “In this world you will have troubles, though fear not. I have overcome the world!”
When time bursts
my creativity bubble
zap!
zip, zilch
motivation’s gone
It’s the standard struggle.
Struggle. Everyday trudging through the snow–another dream deferred in the darkness of student loan debt.
She was on the strugglebus, for sure. The line of customers was reaching to the door. Her coworkers were moving at the awkward pace of slow but hurried. And here this lady was, trying to tell her that the way she’d said the order was wrong.
Look I’m done with this struggle and I am done listening to your bullshit. Everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be alright. You are going away my love, and I am done with you no matter what you say. Every morning I had to beg to wake up. All day I pushed back tears and did everything I could to make sure you were alright and okay and someday I pray you will see and understand my struggle. Goodbye
Since he was in highschool he always struggle to feel confident around everyone. Everything seemed out of place for him. Every word, persone, book and even himslef
despite the bounds on his wrist, he still struggled. He knew fairly well that he wasn’t getting anywhere but he needed to feel like he was trying and maybe, just maybe, if he continued long enough, he’d be free
Carrying out his plan would be not so difficult, the only struggle would be to do it so slowly, and with subtlety so that no one would notice it happening. If people noticed what was going on, they might join in, and that would make it complicated.
Being a teenager, the word struggle means a lot. Finding yourself, what you stand for and who you want to be, and finding someone else so you can be socially acceptable with them. Finishing homework, and balancing time. Doing out of school activities so you can get into a good college. All it really is is a struggle for air.
‘”the struggle is real”
the struggle is not real for you
you don’t understand
stop taking our language
you ignorant cunt
stop taking our culture
and using it to look cool
stop taking our pain
and making us fools”
Is this how they really feel?
why
I do not want to
This makes no sense
when will it get better?
this is starting to drive me crazy
crazy… That’s what they are trying to do… THe whispers and the stares
the poking and the prodding
But I won’t let them
I am stronger
I struggled to hold my breath. It was horrifying. I couldn’t hold any longer. My head was spinning, my blood turned to ice. I felt faint. Then, I did something terrible. I let out a high-pitched scream.
It was such a struggle; trying to get Miley off that damn wrecking ball, that is. She was too busy singing about her troubles that she had lost her clothes and was convinced that a sledgehammer- a sledgehammer- was her latest boyfriend.
There was always a glint in his eye. A moment that hasnever left him. He can only be a person of being and never of what others see him. He cannot be anything els. Why then try. I havenot got any ideas for this man….you could say I am struggling with his struggles. I suppoose that is a cliche at themoments. What could be the
Struggle for air, gasping and pounding the water as if it were a body that could bleed if only you hit it hard enough.
Struggle for consciousness with the cold overpowering everything else, numbing limbs and pain and everything you should be feeling but just can’t.
Struggle against the blackness, until it overcomes him and-
The struggle to see the top was immense. The fog was covering the mountain top, but our guide had said it wwas only a couple miles away. We had to be close. At the top we could somehow call for help. There had to be some kind of radio tower up there. Something, anything, that could save us
The rope bit into her wrists as she squirmed, trying to bite through the heavy cloth around her mouth to scream. Blood began to run down her fingers as she rubbed them against the rope, but she needed to be free, she had to escape, or she’ll die.
Many people don’t know what it is to struggle in life. How it feels. How it affects you. The depression, anxiety, stress, and the emotional roller coaster it sends you on. Many people will not feel this in their life time, but i do. and i cant anymore.
struggling to pull myself up i weighed the pros and cons of just letting go. if i let go you see, i will fall to my death. but if i keep trying to pull myself up i can live. i was stuck because there was no possible way i could pull myself up alone.
The two struggle to get the chain off the gate, and as it swings open, an unprecedented burst of cold air as thick as ice sweeps over them, nearly freezing the snot in their noses. Chuck sneezes loudly, grabbing his torch and waving it in front of his face. Tricia stands back, wide-eyed, staring at the scene.
“Chuck?”
“Yeh.”
“I don’t think someone’s lived on this property for a very, very long time.”
theres plenty of it. but if you are persistent, you’ll prevail. it somtimes shapes who are and what we become in the future. it makes us resilient
I’m struggling with my own reflection tonight
once again, you’d say, stop staring at your fears;
But I’m not who I should be, I reply, and I look in the mirror.
There is always something wrong
in my red dyed hair,
in my green and pale eyes,
in my trembling fingertips,
in my soft hips,
in my noisy head,
in my empty heart.
There is always
something
which is
escaping me.
The struggle of black people, starting from slavery. The hard labor hours, the whippings across our flesh, the abuse, rape, and humiliation. The struggle of having to be separated from our families, to be forced to an unfamiliar country. The struggle of escaping through dangerous parts with slave catchers on the hunt, trying to find food and shelter. The struggle of adapting to a different society, to make something of ourselves.
I struggle and struggle, but the plastic zip-tie around my wrists doesn’t give up even a millimeter of space. Looks as though I’ll be stuck here until the police arrive to save me or find my body.
He struggled to the surface, breaking it with a terrible roar. He flailed, desperate to feel the air in his lungs again. All he wanted was Chex mix. He wanted it so desperatelythat he couldn’t feel anything else.
Drew touched her shoulder, still struggling to understand what Olivia had just said. Three years of marriage, happy years in his opinion, and she’d just asked for a divorce? No, that wasn’t going to happen. “Listen, I’m sorry…if there’s anything I can do…”
“Drew…” She turned to face him, blue eyes filled with fresh tears. She pushed a few strands of blonde hair from her face and breathed in deeply. “Just leave me alone, okay?
Without another word, she shrugged off his hand and walked away. And out of his life.
The alarm goes off
the cold light of the morning
shines through my blinds,
frost forms ice flakes on glass
windows and I struggle
to get out of bed.
Jesse rushed forward to steady Karen- she was struggling to move the heavy boxes on the top shelf and almost toppled over trying to get them.
i’ve been wrestling with how to forget you and how to be okay with forgetting you. of course i need to, of course i want to leave it behind. i know it will be better then. but once i do i will have lost connection with you completely. it’s necessary, i know. but part of me doesn’t want to
learning to deal with problems in life is what keeps us living. struggle may rhyme with snuggle,but it is nowhere near the same thing. what we do with the problem is much more important and significant than the problem itself.
Struggle is nothing but one of my journeys in life.
I can over come any struggle. It can not stop me.
Water filled his lungs and he choked. His legs kicked wildly in every direction, not knowing where up was. Words flashed through his mind. Drowning. Water. Burning. Struggle. He was blind and deaf and mute. He was exhausted and fading fast.
Twisting and turning, she lost her way. Disoriented she stumbled, struggling just to stay on her feet. The wind was calling her name, but she couldn’t quite make it to the shore.
“Why don’t you look? You know you want to look for trouble,” I say. Like Chester the dog, I dance excited beside him as he walks a furious pace, his head down, his ego forever wounded from looking for trouble before and finding me. Silly sod. I dangle the topaz sparkles of trouble just inside his peripheral. I see his eye strain toward it, struggling to turn the whole of him toward it, but he will not. “Come on,” I plead, dead serious, “I will be nice this time…”
conflict-continue-succeed-manage-alive-hope-acheive