I thought I could make it, I really thought I could make it. This is what my best friend Crag yelped in the hockey locker room when he went crashing down. Now time for a little explanation, this all started… Continue Reading →
“I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it.” Two months ago, when I was in Spain, there was a competition. My friend and I took part in a drawing competition. The competition stated that there… Continue Reading →
“I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it.” I said sitting at my computer. It had just passed midnight, the glow of the computer monitor was illuminating my room. A big document displayed in front… Continue Reading →
I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it. Through the rubble from the steel titans, The sky black as ink. Scents of buildings being ruinated, I knew my time was slipping before me, Ash draped… Continue Reading →
“I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it.” There I sat, trapped between crushed metal and the seat. My vision blurred, glasses smashed, but through the broken windshield, I could see the traffic light finally… Continue Reading →
I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it. Overbearing, overwhelming, overpowering – It wasn’t over, it was beginning. One step at a time, one piece at a time, one thought at a time – I… Continue Reading →
I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it. That was my last thought before everything went black. I opened my eyes to see everything was white. I could slightly move my head to look around,… Continue Reading →
Some Time Missed Can’t Be Gotten Back “I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it.” These are the words uttered on repeat by Dennis Grey as he sits on the flimsy chairs at gate 32… Continue Reading →
“Stargazing. World-gazing.” I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it. I reach for the stars, they fall from the sky; I pose man’s questions like who, what and why? All answers, it seems, lurk out… Continue Reading →
I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it. I hunkered down in my desk, Unprepared for the test, With my teacher glaring at me… I had arrived late yet again; This time it was eight-o-three!… Continue Reading →
Welcome to the first Street Snippet for 2024-2025. Here’s the real-world story on where the opening line, “I thought I could make it. I really thought I could make it,” was heard. I was walking up 8th Avenue at about… Continue Reading →
“There are no written ways to arrive at this. Either we jump out of this Uber or we die in here”, my friend Greta texts me. She’s sitting right next to me in the backseat of the Uber that she… Continue Reading →
There are no written ways to arrive at this.There is no map to bring you to this momentFor in this moment, pure and undefined,We find the essence of all that’s intertwined.
A silence that’s louder than any beeps.A feeling so uncertain like no other.A decision that affects not just mine. Memories running rampant.Memories of favorable times.Memories of you running and laughing. My trembling hand I reached out.My thoughts of you never… Continue Reading →
“There are no written ways to arrive at this.” he wrote hypocritically. He is finishing up a paper given to him months ago on an archeological dig he had done and he only started working on it now a week… Continue Reading →
“There are no written ways to arrive at this.”It can described like the aroma of homemade soup, when you’re cursed with a fever .It can described like the feeling of seeing your love.The dopamine, rushing through your veins like dolphins… Continue Reading →
“There are no written ways to arrive at this.”One foot is on the line,The other is already on the way.To the end of beginnings,No more first days.Packed lunches and size two shoes,A school teacher teaching you your to dos. Now… Continue Reading →
“There are no written ways to arrive at this.” Thomas found himself trapped inside a dimly lit storage unit, nestled deep within the woods in the dead of winter. He could imagine the outside, the tree’s skeletal branches casting shadows… Continue Reading →
There are no written ways to arrive at this.No mark on paper could explain.No speck would tell a plan fully set. A bloom of mission— thriving on mental silt,When rains of ink stain paper, hope wilts.A squids last stand will… Continue Reading →
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