11:45AM: With the sun in my eyes and wind in my hair, I progress onwards along the railway track with my knapsack on my back and a flower to my lover, three miles away.
eco*
to track is easy
sofia
part of me cries at my track record.
Ed
Together we can piece together the expedition, getting canteens and compasses. I will gather in the mosquito net, while you count out the waterproof matches. The we can spread out the trail map, letting it devour the tabletop, and then with the care of surgeons we’ll set to erasing every hill and track until we’ve charted the clear country that we seek.
Brian Slusher
one track mind that’s what he has. All he thinks about all the time is design. How much better this building would work if it had entrances there, how to rig a mosquito net so you can press a button to make it go up and down. Having a conversation is impossible, unless you confine yourself to saying how cool his design idea is. Of course he never builds the stuff…
Mary
It allows me to follow, it allows me to leave a trail for others to follow, but more than anything else, it allows me to get lost in a path that I did not anticipate, to emerge at the end of a gallery, the other side illuminated with light I did
tryall
potentially a race track, where competitive sports events may take place. also it could be the process of tracking something – ie keeping tabs on something or someone. this could of course lead to an overly obsessive frame of mind which ends in the subject of the tracking becoming a victim of a stalker, possibly malicious.
tom
Get on track, I tell myself. Get out the brushes and the paints. There are canvasses to ruin!! My multi-tracked mind just never knows when to narrow things down. Too much input, not enough output. Get on track!!
Jaclyn
i have a one track mind. everytime someone says something to do with poles, holes or anything that can be construed into a sexual reference, i’m normally the first person in the room to bring it to everyone’s attention! Am I deprived, or.. just depraved? Hmmm.. I’ve often wondered, but still it makes for a funny situation and sometimes mortification! That’s ok, I can deal with the funny.
s-s-s
Sie f
Pim
People keep telling me not to destroy my life. I’m not destroying my life! They say something that means the track I’m taking will destroy me, or something. I cannot behave anyway else! My moral obligation calls to me, and my life will take whatever track is philosophically moral, even if I don’t like it.
109
Here. The footprint. Deeper at the front marks – talons well defined. The heat of the day bore down on our necks. We must keep going. We must keep tracking.
There is no one person, we are one.
luckyrye
track the mighty thunder and wipe it up with a big tasty meat track.
Ben Fox
on the side to the left. if sometiems you get lost in the moment you must let go of the nonsensical things that make the being. if the part of the side gets lost then it is a waste of time. for the right, being right is the only way, but the wrong allow the flow of time and space and do not put confines on said thing. the parts ak
big thunda
I am tracking my progress through this last year. My teacher has asked me to. I have healed. I have learned. I have grown as a woman and a teacher and a parent. I wish it were as easy to track where I am going as it is where I have been.
Janice Lind
Such a fake job, such a deep, dark secret, sorting corn kernels one by one to learn patience. Hoping to get a husband, young women went through this ritual with resentment. They must have wondered who designed this. Our ancestors never got it about women, did they!
Joy Cagil
The track stretched straight before me, the next curve seeming an endless distance away. I stretched my legs, added a burst of speed, pushing myself to the limits. My lungs expanded, the air rushing in as I pushed through it, faster, faster. My fastest. And then the bump in the road, and I halted, face first in the dirt.
Kim
track the what of the how of why, this was her curse, she didn’t ask, she didn’t know, she ever wondered and then there was loss, the trail of a glimmer down the trail, down the nose of knowing, down the egress to hell’s hellish hounds. This will be your murmuring heart, mind, they said, and that was the saunter that left her heart wracked with oblivion. will this dream never alter, never end, never lay down its only weapons: this you wonder ever into the dark of your darkest dark.
paschal
off the beaten track.
I’d always be the one to wander off the road, into the undergrowth and onto paths of broken grass, camera in hand
Up hills, over cliffs and on top of roofs
You’d be the one to stop me
You were sensible; I was reckless
bee.
the bird sanctuary uses tracking devices to track a little birdie and that worked just fine to know his whereabouts until along came a big great horned owl, a bird of prey, and he gobbled up the little birdie now the little birdie as well as the tracker, is inside of the owl. thats that for the little birdie.
tweet tweet.
michelle
he ran track to out run the thoughts in his head. going on the perfect circle allowed him to forget his own life was far from perfect, letting him move forward both physically and emotionally.
six miles every day, then he was done. life moved on on it’s own imperfect track, while he held the comfort of the memory of the smooth oval.
quin browne
Musik ist f
Eva
The track stopped dead ahead of her, the road washed away by the storms. It was a sheer drop off, much sooner than she had expected from the map. Good. All the better. This would save some energy. She pushed hard on the accelerator.
Nathalie (Spacedlaw)
Train tracks stretched straight ahead for miles, miles, miles–our only hope to find civilization, yet no train passed by. Us, with no water, food, nor shoes for our feet.
Pat
the place where runners run and have “meets”. something where cars go very fast trying to beat one another to the finish line.
aldo
This track keeps coming back to me, I wonder if it’s in pursuit. Haha, it’s tracking the answer, you could say. But the track it is running is too long and too tiring, and it loses track of its path, only to emerge on a railway track…
Ruthie Kennedy
for running round, listening, trains and cars, finding someone once lost, keeping track of too many things
Ruthie Kennedy
There was so much anticipation. The crowds were cheering like mad, yet they were attentive. Each of the participants were focused, prepared, like felines ready to pounce for the kill.
Then the man blows his whistle and they all run. The cheering becomes louder, and the adredaline begins to pump. In their minds, they wish to succeed. There were different reasons, sometimes reputation and sometimes for their dreams.
Abbey ran for Riley.
JUMP.
He always complained about her not being lady like, mainly due to her rugby playing. Everyone else would complain at times, and she would let off steam by running. Arthur and Riley caught her running once, and that was how she began track.
JUMP.
She wasn’t running for Riley because of love, but because he annoyed her so much. Three more rounds. She was in the lead.
The atmosphere in the arena was intense. The crowd loved it. It was as if they could feel the intensity, and all the energy from the track players. They were all sweating, but it wasn’t getting in the way. Each of them had their own thoughts.
JUMP.
Abbey’s reaction time was flawless. She didn’t know why, but when she first began track and field, she had gotten used to the jumps very fast. She knew when to prepare for the jump, and she knew how to avoid knocking down the obstacle.
After all, she refused to let any obstacles stop her.
JUMP.
An obstacle is knocked over. The tension is raising. Nothing was going to stop them. Nothing was going to stop Abbey. Someone catches up to her. Cristina. Abbey knew that Cristina would catch up sooner or later. Cristina ran for dreams. Glory for her people.
JUMP.
One more. The crowd is going wild. Abbey was beginning to slow down in comparison with the faster leopard. Abbey only ran for Riley. She only ran to be rid of everything that didn’t work out for her.
JUMP.
The finish line was there. It was snapped before Abbey even reached it.
JUMP.
The race was finished for her. Done. It was over. She came in second. Not that she cared. A drink of water and Abbey left before she could be awarded anything.
Abbey was going to stick with rugby as her true sport, but track was enjoyable. She had to give it credit.
Maria Cross
I lost track of the days i had spent in this damned hell hole. i tried thinking of ways to entertain myself, but it always ended up with me contemplating suicide. I would even find myself inching towards the edge of the cliff, but i always knew that i wouldn’t have the courage to do it.
Winlove
track. that’s all i can come up with right now. the same word given back to you. i just can’t think. it’s like my mind is on a round about track of deppression and self hatred.
katthegreat
I just lost track. Everything was fine for a while then suddenly just blank. Writer’s block.
vvlkv
my progress throughout the days ahead
against the standard that you have set more me
years ago.
and never let me falter.
and never let me slow.
Ashley McCorkle
I was going to join the track team. However, I’m terribly out of shape, so I didn’t. It was my friend’s idea, really, and I just went along with it. Once I got to the track with my brand new sneakers and jogging suit, and the coach told us to warm up with a five mile run, I ran- that is, all the way home.
Julia
track my progress thoughoout the days ahead
no pre-determined standard has been discovered since
the day you and i left
and danced till the end.
Ashley McCorkle
Track back to the stack with mackalack. I ran track and I loved it. You can’t track my tracks, but when I look back all will be clear, a set of tracks, a line suddenly made straight. Make straight the path, eh John? That is what it means to track. To track isn’t over until the end. In the beginning I am making tracks.
Hannah
Track back through all the mazes and wastes of time, back to the time when you were small, still small enough to see the world form the bottom up. When the rocks shined brighter and the fireflies were bigger, when your dog was the size of a pony. Tracking yourself….
Laura
I balanced myself on one rail of the train tracks, walking along the thin metal line as on a balance beam. Everything makes so much more sense when you’re set in one direction.
Julia
the track to no one is long and bright by myself i am one in a million. i am that chance to be myself. i never want to change it although it would be nice to have some one along for the ride.
wilhelmina
I don’t feel like I’m on track
I feel a little lost
In the low floating sky
that I call home
In the clouds
that are
suffocating me
With humidity and hope and
dreams
that aren’t on track.
Rachel
there was a track where the wolves went everyday. they never stopped following the track for fear of getting lost. they continued to follow for their entire lives, never looking back, never thinking of anything other than their track. one day they will near the end, then where will they go.
11:45AM: With the sun in my eyes and wind in my hair, I progress onwards along the railway track with my knapsack on my back and a flower to my lover, three miles away.
to track is easy
part of me cries at my track record.
Together we can piece together the expedition, getting canteens and compasses. I will gather in the mosquito net, while you count out the waterproof matches. The we can spread out the trail map, letting it devour the tabletop, and then with the care of surgeons we’ll set to erasing every hill and track until we’ve charted the clear country that we seek.
one track mind that’s what he has. All he thinks about all the time is design. How much better this building would work if it had entrances there, how to rig a mosquito net so you can press a button to make it go up and down. Having a conversation is impossible, unless you confine yourself to saying how cool his design idea is. Of course he never builds the stuff…
It allows me to follow, it allows me to leave a trail for others to follow, but more than anything else, it allows me to get lost in a path that I did not anticipate, to emerge at the end of a gallery, the other side illuminated with light I did
potentially a race track, where competitive sports events may take place. also it could be the process of tracking something – ie keeping tabs on something or someone. this could of course lead to an overly obsessive frame of mind which ends in the subject of the tracking becoming a victim of a stalker, possibly malicious.
Get on track, I tell myself. Get out the brushes and the paints. There are canvasses to ruin!! My multi-tracked mind just never knows when to narrow things down. Too much input, not enough output. Get on track!!
i have a one track mind. everytime someone says something to do with poles, holes or anything that can be construed into a sexual reference, i’m normally the first person in the room to bring it to everyone’s attention! Am I deprived, or.. just depraved? Hmmm.. I’ve often wondered, but still it makes for a funny situation and sometimes mortification! That’s ok, I can deal with the funny.
Sie f
People keep telling me not to destroy my life. I’m not destroying my life! They say something that means the track I’m taking will destroy me, or something. I cannot behave anyway else! My moral obligation calls to me, and my life will take whatever track is philosophically moral, even if I don’t like it.
Here. The footprint. Deeper at the front marks – talons well defined. The heat of the day bore down on our necks. We must keep going. We must keep tracking.
There is no one person, we are one.
track the mighty thunder and wipe it up with a big tasty meat track.
on the side to the left. if sometiems you get lost in the moment you must let go of the nonsensical things that make the being. if the part of the side gets lost then it is a waste of time. for the right, being right is the only way, but the wrong allow the flow of time and space and do not put confines on said thing. the parts ak
I am tracking my progress through this last year. My teacher has asked me to. I have healed. I have learned. I have grown as a woman and a teacher and a parent. I wish it were as easy to track where I am going as it is where I have been.
Such a fake job, such a deep, dark secret, sorting corn kernels one by one to learn patience. Hoping to get a husband, young women went through this ritual with resentment. They must have wondered who designed this. Our ancestors never got it about women, did they!
The track stretched straight before me, the next curve seeming an endless distance away. I stretched my legs, added a burst of speed, pushing myself to the limits. My lungs expanded, the air rushing in as I pushed through it, faster, faster. My fastest. And then the bump in the road, and I halted, face first in the dirt.
track the what of the how of why, this was her curse, she didn’t ask, she didn’t know, she ever wondered and then there was loss, the trail of a glimmer down the trail, down the nose of knowing, down the egress to hell’s hellish hounds. This will be your murmuring heart, mind, they said, and that was the saunter that left her heart wracked with oblivion. will this dream never alter, never end, never lay down its only weapons: this you wonder ever into the dark of your darkest dark.
off the beaten track.
I’d always be the one to wander off the road, into the undergrowth and onto paths of broken grass, camera in hand
Up hills, over cliffs and on top of roofs
You’d be the one to stop me
You were sensible; I was reckless
the bird sanctuary uses tracking devices to track a little birdie and that worked just fine to know his whereabouts until along came a big great horned owl, a bird of prey, and he gobbled up the little birdie now the little birdie as well as the tracker, is inside of the owl. thats that for the little birdie.
tweet tweet.
he ran track to out run the thoughts in his head. going on the perfect circle allowed him to forget his own life was far from perfect, letting him move forward both physically and emotionally.
six miles every day, then he was done. life moved on on it’s own imperfect track, while he held the comfort of the memory of the smooth oval.
Musik ist f
The track stopped dead ahead of her, the road washed away by the storms. It was a sheer drop off, much sooner than she had expected from the map. Good. All the better. This would save some energy. She pushed hard on the accelerator.
Train tracks stretched straight ahead for miles, miles, miles–our only hope to find civilization, yet no train passed by. Us, with no water, food, nor shoes for our feet.
the place where runners run and have “meets”. something where cars go very fast trying to beat one another to the finish line.
This track keeps coming back to me, I wonder if it’s in pursuit. Haha, it’s tracking the answer, you could say. But the track it is running is too long and too tiring, and it loses track of its path, only to emerge on a railway track…
for running round, listening, trains and cars, finding someone once lost, keeping track of too many things
There was so much anticipation. The crowds were cheering like mad, yet they were attentive. Each of the participants were focused, prepared, like felines ready to pounce for the kill.
Then the man blows his whistle and they all run. The cheering becomes louder, and the adredaline begins to pump. In their minds, they wish to succeed. There were different reasons, sometimes reputation and sometimes for their dreams.
Abbey ran for Riley.
JUMP.
He always complained about her not being lady like, mainly due to her rugby playing. Everyone else would complain at times, and she would let off steam by running. Arthur and Riley caught her running once, and that was how she began track.
JUMP.
She wasn’t running for Riley because of love, but because he annoyed her so much. Three more rounds. She was in the lead.
The atmosphere in the arena was intense. The crowd loved it. It was as if they could feel the intensity, and all the energy from the track players. They were all sweating, but it wasn’t getting in the way. Each of them had their own thoughts.
JUMP.
Abbey’s reaction time was flawless. She didn’t know why, but when she first began track and field, she had gotten used to the jumps very fast. She knew when to prepare for the jump, and she knew how to avoid knocking down the obstacle.
After all, she refused to let any obstacles stop her.
JUMP.
An obstacle is knocked over. The tension is raising. Nothing was going to stop them. Nothing was going to stop Abbey. Someone catches up to her. Cristina. Abbey knew that Cristina would catch up sooner or later. Cristina ran for dreams. Glory for her people.
JUMP.
One more. The crowd is going wild. Abbey was beginning to slow down in comparison with the faster leopard. Abbey only ran for Riley. She only ran to be rid of everything that didn’t work out for her.
JUMP.
The finish line was there. It was snapped before Abbey even reached it.
JUMP.
The race was finished for her. Done. It was over. She came in second. Not that she cared. A drink of water and Abbey left before she could be awarded anything.
Abbey was going to stick with rugby as her true sport, but track was enjoyable. She had to give it credit.
I lost track of the days i had spent in this damned hell hole. i tried thinking of ways to entertain myself, but it always ended up with me contemplating suicide. I would even find myself inching towards the edge of the cliff, but i always knew that i wouldn’t have the courage to do it.
track. that’s all i can come up with right now. the same word given back to you. i just can’t think. it’s like my mind is on a round about track of deppression and self hatred.
I just lost track. Everything was fine for a while then suddenly just blank. Writer’s block.
my progress throughout the days ahead
against the standard that you have set more me
years ago.
and never let me falter.
and never let me slow.
I was going to join the track team. However, I’m terribly out of shape, so I didn’t. It was my friend’s idea, really, and I just went along with it. Once I got to the track with my brand new sneakers and jogging suit, and the coach told us to warm up with a five mile run, I ran- that is, all the way home.
track my progress thoughoout the days ahead
no pre-determined standard has been discovered since
the day you and i left
and danced till the end.
Track back to the stack with mackalack. I ran track and I loved it. You can’t track my tracks, but when I look back all will be clear, a set of tracks, a line suddenly made straight. Make straight the path, eh John? That is what it means to track. To track isn’t over until the end. In the beginning I am making tracks.
Track back through all the mazes and wastes of time, back to the time when you were small, still small enough to see the world form the bottom up. When the rocks shined brighter and the fireflies were bigger, when your dog was the size of a pony. Tracking yourself….
I balanced myself on one rail of the train tracks, walking along the thin metal line as on a balance beam. Everything makes so much more sense when you’re set in one direction.
the track to no one is long and bright by myself i am one in a million. i am that chance to be myself. i never want to change it although it would be nice to have some one along for the ride.
I don’t feel like I’m on track
I feel a little lost
In the low floating sky
that I call home
In the clouds
that are
suffocating me
With humidity and hope and
dreams
that aren’t on track.
there was a track where the wolves went everyday. they never stopped following the track for fear of getting lost. they continued to follow for their entire lives, never looking back, never thinking of anything other than their track. one day they will near the end, then where will they go.