I remember being in a village in a dream. It was dark, eerie, and it had a big, dark church. I don’t remember much more than that, but I felt like a visitor to that village, not a dweller. I’m glad I had this feeling. As far as I remember, I was alone.
Alexandre Rosas
“It takes a village to raise a child.” My mother always says that. I’m not sure I would be who I am today if I had had only had my mother and father parent me.
Kate
It takes a village to raise a child
I am a village
I have no child
But I might as well have
nick matherne
yeah and your dirt road daydreams will keep us ill for only so long until i am emptying my lungs into a pillowcase between sighs and slurred speech.
Matthew Breuer
“village” reminds me of the movie first and foremost (that one that was supposed to be horror but wasn’t really at all) but mostly I think of old-time villages, where people are all dressed in drab colors and the women are all in dresses. I don’t really know what else to say.
melissa
People in small houses with thatched roofs gathering together like hoos in hooville. They have many pets and farms with chairs that climb on walls.
Anna
sleeping sad and sullen. lights are dimming, mothers sighing by the open windows. fathers? nowhere to be found. the town is barren.
anna
Villages often have angry mobs if the villagers get angry enough to light torches. If you have an angry mob after you, you should run and then hide in a hollow tree. Hollow trees surround villages and are best when they are covered in sap. That is because sap makes maple syrup and if you’re hiding from an angry mob then you will definately want some syrup.
Meow
little people.. a monster who comes out of this wierd place.
Allot of people who know each other. In the olden days. The people farm and all have cattle.
They wear old clothes, and are religious.
The pilgrims.
The village mall
Carolyn Damphousse
Something about villages makes me think small houses with large shingles. It also makes me think of Germany because when I went to Germany, my German friend would always called where she lived a village. All of the houses were cramped together but the place felt so cozy and familiar. There was an old church and lots of adorable houses.
Lizzie
tiny people living closely together in small or regular sized homes with the basic needs stores around them and are happy with their lives.
tori
There was a man who lived in a small village. It was quiet and isolated and the man liked it that way. The village wasn’t on the way to any where and nobody bothered to visit. Not long ago an important actress ha
Archibald P. Scabbe
Village….a small little place for people with simple lives. Not superficial…not complicated…just..life. Do things on your own, no money or government or any of the shit involved.
Nicole
a village full of people sat in the square waiting. For what they could not exactly be sure. All they knew was that the strange man who had appeared in town several weeks ago had told them all to assemble on this day, this time and in this place. There was something oddly trustworthy about this man so they obeyed his request.
Jackie
something about a wretched lover makes me think that these huts are nothing more that another means by which we all pretent to be one thing in ‘real’ life but use our mistresses as a means to cover ourselves up or became somebody else entirely. I have no doubt that what I am writing is rambling nonsense and should be ignored, and yet here I am. Lawyerboy.
Jason
a place . not like a town. its smaller. its prettier. at lest i could be , unless you are thinking of village like the ghetto. .. but i guess thats not really the same thing. The village. not to be confused with the village people, is a lovely place. serene. everyone knows everyone.
haneia
in this village, the children rule
Andriano
tiny town. people living & working & loving together. corner grocery store. gardens, children playing. dogs barking. lovely place to be
kathryn
The village is one fucked up place to be. There are a lot of arrogant little fucks and I hate it because it’s a goddamn village, okay? I grew up in a village filled with arrogant sons of bitches and priests. It was a very, very scary experience. I would not recommend you or anyone you know to live in a village because it is perceived as a place to be safe. It is not, when a place is perceived to be safe, it is a rape zone.
Bea
The Village is a movie often criticized for being dull, or pointless, or even a movie that “lies” by its openin shot. A major theme in it however is deception, the importance of deception, and how we decive ourselves in our own deception. Thus, justified.
Ian
I like to think that when I grow old, I’ll live in a small country village, where I can reminisce about the city life and raise some kids in boring oblivion, so that they’ll be chomping at the bit to get some excitment when they’re old enough to move back somewhere urban…yet will hopefully retain a pleasant country manner…
Vinay
we lived among the trees in a dark hole in the corner of the planet where no one ever came. they didn’t discover us, we discovered them. we were told they existed. the gods informed us. “you must leave the village,” the gods said, speaking through the old priest. “you must go and kill the others.” we didn’t want to. but we had to. so we went.
jinx
In a little village near where I grew up in the mountains of Tennessee, there are incredible artisans who make beautiful things
betty
it takes a village to raise an idiot; Villages are such funny things we ascribe them as being groups of people but they aren’t really they are living breathing enitites of their own accord having a lif of their own and greater than than the sum of their parts
Keith Bernard
The village was where she had always been. She knew no different than the people there, the way of life, the daily routine. It was her world and nothing needed to change. Well, nothing needed to change until the real world crashed down onto her and she saw that her perfect world wasn’t so perfect.
sam
there once was a village with lots of houses with straw roofs. in it lived this olympic gymnast, although no one knew she was a gymnast yet, because she had just been born. yesterday, in fact. she was born yesterday. but she came out fighting, going for a double backflip out of the doctor’s arms, and stuck a landing on the floor. without a mat. gymnast in the making, for sure.
village people, little town, it’s a quiet village, i miss melisey and the grass the moves and sways, the tall grass and fields of wheat in the abandoned town that i inhabited for three weeks. three weeks without seeing neighbors, without stepping into the church that had begun to crumble and smell of wet rain that had seeped into the window at the top of its tower. three weeks of throwing postcards into the yellow poast box and hoping they’d get to you.
Katie
It takes a village to raise a child. This could be considered true by those who have feebly tried to babysit two children at once and realized that you cannot, by any means, teach a child manners in one day.
“Don’t hit your brother,” you may say, and regardless, less than twenty minutes later, she may do it again.
Adrienne
A place where it is an enjoyment to go where it is pretty and small and relaxing. villages are fun and I love them.
kalyn
Mabel told me to take the milk out. So I take the milk out. Harry’s there next door with his fucking grassmower munching up the dasies and he waves at me with a Oh God Here it Comes The Catchphrase, “Top of the morning!” He’s not even Irish. He’s just a twat. God. I put the Fucking milk out and go the fuck back indoors before I start ejaculating kidney stones all over the shop.
crabmuffins
a village in the middle of the woods. suddenly, a clearing, and a quaint, archaic splash of domestic bliss. and yet, no one is there. food still on tables. the forge set up for work, long cold. but a village, in the middle of the woods. what happened?
meghan
I hide. I seek. I peek at the light. The strangest corners spell freedom for me.
liberte, egalite, fraternite.
I am alive.
heidilael
There’s a village where I used to live. It was quaint. But that’s a lie. There was no village. I come from an industrialized city. A city I haven’t been to in 12 years. As of now it’s metropolitan beyond belief. Not at all as what I remembered it to be. Alas, what one would give to have grown up in a quaint village by the sea.
Yan Zhang
small town, with little shops
Sharon
in a tiny village in norway, there lived a little girl named mischa. mischa liked her village very much: she liked hiking and fishing and skiing with the people she had grown up with and knew her well. but she dreamed to someday go to oslo.
oslo was a big city, mischa knew. her elder sister went there for university.
janelle (:
adults bustling,
children laughing.
rice and wheat
growing tall.
work to be done,
yet everyone is calm.
harvest season
is around the corner.
Krystina
it takes a village to raise a child, but a child doesnt fall in love with a village. a child wants a parent. only a parent can hold your hand, smile inot your eyes….yes, a village can laugh with you,ou, but it’s your parent’s laugh that you listen for amongst all those other laughing voices. Why? Why does one person become so special to another? How do they meet? can it only be as strong as this between parent and child, and can it last a lifetime? How does life change the bond? Life can test a child and a parent. it changes them, it hurls hurricanes at them and no one knows if they’ll still be intact, and loving at the end of it. I am writing too quickly, i have interesting themes here, but what do i want to say….god i love my son. i loved my lover too, and would have left my son for him, but i know that i would have had to return to my son. even if my son doesn’t see me every day, or even regularly now that he lives on his own, i still hunger to be near him. available at a moment’s notice. why? well, life is random and has no meaning other than what we assign, so it doesn’t really matter! its just that …i am his mom. I will always be his mom. he is dear to me.
Anne
I went to the village one day and saw a pretty yellow sunflower. The sun was hot but there was a beautiful breeze. As I begun to look around the village, I seen lots of people milling around. All the people were really beautiful. The houses in this village were very nice. They all seemed to be very happy.
always think of the settlers video game.
I remember being in a village in a dream. It was dark, eerie, and it had a big, dark church. I don’t remember much more than that, but I felt like a visitor to that village, not a dweller. I’m glad I had this feeling. As far as I remember, I was alone.
“It takes a village to raise a child.” My mother always says that. I’m not sure I would be who I am today if I had had only had my mother and father parent me.
It takes a village to raise a child
I am a village
I have no child
But I might as well have
yeah and your dirt road daydreams will keep us ill for only so long until i am emptying my lungs into a pillowcase between sighs and slurred speech.
“village” reminds me of the movie first and foremost (that one that was supposed to be horror but wasn’t really at all) but mostly I think of old-time villages, where people are all dressed in drab colors and the women are all in dresses. I don’t really know what else to say.
People in small houses with thatched roofs gathering together like hoos in hooville. They have many pets and farms with chairs that climb on walls.
sleeping sad and sullen. lights are dimming, mothers sighing by the open windows. fathers? nowhere to be found. the town is barren.
Villages often have angry mobs if the villagers get angry enough to light torches. If you have an angry mob after you, you should run and then hide in a hollow tree. Hollow trees surround villages and are best when they are covered in sap. That is because sap makes maple syrup and if you’re hiding from an angry mob then you will definately want some syrup.
little people.. a monster who comes out of this wierd place.
Allot of people who know each other. In the olden days. The people farm and all have cattle.
They wear old clothes, and are religious.
The pilgrims.
The village mall
Something about villages makes me think small houses with large shingles. It also makes me think of Germany because when I went to Germany, my German friend would always called where she lived a village. All of the houses were cramped together but the place felt so cozy and familiar. There was an old church and lots of adorable houses.
tiny people living closely together in small or regular sized homes with the basic needs stores around them and are happy with their lives.
There was a man who lived in a small village. It was quiet and isolated and the man liked it that way. The village wasn’t on the way to any where and nobody bothered to visit. Not long ago an important actress ha
Village….a small little place for people with simple lives. Not superficial…not complicated…just..life. Do things on your own, no money or government or any of the shit involved.
a village full of people sat in the square waiting. For what they could not exactly be sure. All they knew was that the strange man who had appeared in town several weeks ago had told them all to assemble on this day, this time and in this place. There was something oddly trustworthy about this man so they obeyed his request.
something about a wretched lover makes me think that these huts are nothing more that another means by which we all pretent to be one thing in ‘real’ life but use our mistresses as a means to cover ourselves up or became somebody else entirely. I have no doubt that what I am writing is rambling nonsense and should be ignored, and yet here I am. Lawyerboy.
a place . not like a town. its smaller. its prettier. at lest i could be , unless you are thinking of village like the ghetto. .. but i guess thats not really the same thing. The village. not to be confused with the village people, is a lovely place. serene. everyone knows everyone.
in this village, the children rule
tiny town. people living & working & loving together. corner grocery store. gardens, children playing. dogs barking. lovely place to be
The village is one fucked up place to be. There are a lot of arrogant little fucks and I hate it because it’s a goddamn village, okay? I grew up in a village filled with arrogant sons of bitches and priests. It was a very, very scary experience. I would not recommend you or anyone you know to live in a village because it is perceived as a place to be safe. It is not, when a place is perceived to be safe, it is a rape zone.
The Village is a movie often criticized for being dull, or pointless, or even a movie that “lies” by its openin shot. A major theme in it however is deception, the importance of deception, and how we decive ourselves in our own deception. Thus, justified.
I like to think that when I grow old, I’ll live in a small country village, where I can reminisce about the city life and raise some kids in boring oblivion, so that they’ll be chomping at the bit to get some excitment when they’re old enough to move back somewhere urban…yet will hopefully retain a pleasant country manner…
we lived among the trees in a dark hole in the corner of the planet where no one ever came. they didn’t discover us, we discovered them. we were told they existed. the gods informed us. “you must leave the village,” the gods said, speaking through the old priest. “you must go and kill the others.” we didn’t want to. but we had to. so we went.
In a little village near where I grew up in the mountains of Tennessee, there are incredible artisans who make beautiful things
it takes a village to raise an idiot; Villages are such funny things we ascribe them as being groups of people but they aren’t really they are living breathing enitites of their own accord having a lif of their own and greater than than the sum of their parts
The village was where she had always been. She knew no different than the people there, the way of life, the daily routine. It was her world and nothing needed to change. Well, nothing needed to change until the real world crashed down onto her and she saw that her perfect world wasn’t so perfect.
there once was a village with lots of houses with straw roofs. in it lived this olympic gymnast, although no one knew she was a gymnast yet, because she had just been born. yesterday, in fact. she was born yesterday. but she came out fighting, going for a double backflip out of the doctor’s arms, and stuck a landing on the floor. without a mat. gymnast in the making, for sure.
renaissance. peasants. family. love. community. politics. dirty. water. country. simple. homey. calm.
village people, little town, it’s a quiet village, i miss melisey and the grass the moves and sways, the tall grass and fields of wheat in the abandoned town that i inhabited for three weeks. three weeks without seeing neighbors, without stepping into the church that had begun to crumble and smell of wet rain that had seeped into the window at the top of its tower. three weeks of throwing postcards into the yellow poast box and hoping they’d get to you.
It takes a village to raise a child. This could be considered true by those who have feebly tried to babysit two children at once and realized that you cannot, by any means, teach a child manners in one day.
“Don’t hit your brother,” you may say, and regardless, less than twenty minutes later, she may do it again.
A place where it is an enjoyment to go where it is pretty and small and relaxing. villages are fun and I love them.
Mabel told me to take the milk out. So I take the milk out. Harry’s there next door with his fucking grassmower munching up the dasies and he waves at me with a Oh God Here it Comes The Catchphrase, “Top of the morning!” He’s not even Irish. He’s just a twat. God. I put the Fucking milk out and go the fuck back indoors before I start ejaculating kidney stones all over the shop.
a village in the middle of the woods. suddenly, a clearing, and a quaint, archaic splash of domestic bliss. and yet, no one is there. food still on tables. the forge set up for work, long cold. but a village, in the middle of the woods. what happened?
I hide. I seek. I peek at the light. The strangest corners spell freedom for me.
liberte, egalite, fraternite.
I am alive.
There’s a village where I used to live. It was quaint. But that’s a lie. There was no village. I come from an industrialized city. A city I haven’t been to in 12 years. As of now it’s metropolitan beyond belief. Not at all as what I remembered it to be. Alas, what one would give to have grown up in a quaint village by the sea.
small town, with little shops
in a tiny village in norway, there lived a little girl named mischa. mischa liked her village very much: she liked hiking and fishing and skiing with the people she had grown up with and knew her well. but she dreamed to someday go to oslo.
oslo was a big city, mischa knew. her elder sister went there for university.
adults bustling,
children laughing.
rice and wheat
growing tall.
work to be done,
yet everyone is calm.
harvest season
is around the corner.
it takes a village to raise a child, but a child doesnt fall in love with a village. a child wants a parent. only a parent can hold your hand, smile inot your eyes….yes, a village can laugh with you,ou, but it’s your parent’s laugh that you listen for amongst all those other laughing voices. Why? Why does one person become so special to another? How do they meet? can it only be as strong as this between parent and child, and can it last a lifetime? How does life change the bond? Life can test a child and a parent. it changes them, it hurls hurricanes at them and no one knows if they’ll still be intact, and loving at the end of it. I am writing too quickly, i have interesting themes here, but what do i want to say….god i love my son. i loved my lover too, and would have left my son for him, but i know that i would have had to return to my son. even if my son doesn’t see me every day, or even regularly now that he lives on his own, i still hunger to be near him. available at a moment’s notice. why? well, life is random and has no meaning other than what we assign, so it doesn’t really matter! its just that …i am his mom. I will always be his mom. he is dear to me.
I went to the village one day and saw a pretty yellow sunflower. The sun was hot but there was a beautiful breeze. As I begun to look around the village, I seen lots of people milling around. All the people were really beautiful. The houses in this village were very nice. They all seemed to be very happy.