“Twenty-five days,” the words reverberated in her skull like the clanging of some gong as she made a bright, red X on June 1st. She flipped back to May and saw the thirty-one Xs there. Five months and five days ago, they’d told her she had six months to live. And, now she only had twenty-five of those left and every day she finished vertical, she added another X. Amy stuffed the calendar into a pocket, hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder, and left the motel. She smiled at the flatirons in front of her and said, “I took the one less traveled, and that has made all the difference.”
I have a backpack that has purple and pink birds on it. It has been a fantastic friend this year, but has become damaged. Next year I am probably going to need to get a new backpack for school. I will always love my backpacks.
dora! backpack, backpack… that familiar tune. like annoying little jingles that get stuck in your head. I wonder how much you’d earn if you made up one of those jingles. Is it hard? It’s like forcing yourself to be creative.
I have a really cool backpack, I picked it out at the beginning of the year and I keep lots of really important school work in it.
Right now there’s only two important things though and that’s my yearbook and my hoodie. School is almost over and almost time for a new backpack as the new year starts!
Hello backpack! We seem together again, I haven’t forgot our last view, what a trip. Well I remember when we went to Peru. When we visit the Incas and while we we’re analyzing the paintings on the walls, we got kidnapted and took to Guatemala. There they told us that we will took some packages and take’em to Rio de Janeiro, and pass them through the carnaval without getting caught. I don’t remember well how we actually made it, but here we are… still alive!
My backpack weighed down on my shoulders. And I thought in the back of mind, I could have done without the pan. It’s not like I was going to be gone for ten days. Five minimum. That’s what the counselor requested: five. It wasn’t too long or short. It was just a vacation from my hectic life. Work, picking up the kids, paying bills — the usual. But my life wasn’t usual anymore, no, far from it. I’m ahead of myself, so let me start from the beginning…
It can hold an endless amount of items. It can express your personality! I know mine does. It also allows me to hide those things i dont want people to see! Without it i would feel so unprepared, for class and life. I love my backpack and it loves me back.
I grabbed the last of my belongings and stuffed them in my backpack. I have no way of really knowing where I am headed, but I’m optimistic. My yellow Jansport, I hope I remembered clean underwear. Really? That’s my concern? Thanks, mother.
this is what i wear on my back when i go to school except I have been using a shoulder bag lately as I prefer the look and the style. Backpacks are great for when I skateboard cause it stays on firmly. My old one was blue but sometimes looked like it was purple which i wasn’t so thrilled about. Looking back though, I don’t really care about
The two hikers walked through the desert, the blazing sun looming over them like an overprotective 5,800ºK mother watching from 92 million miles away. Mary set down her backpack and said, “I’m parched; I must get a drink.”
Tony warned her, “That’s not water; that’s a mirage.”
Mary stooped down, scooped up a couple of hands full of sand and gulped it down. “Nope; this is actually water and it’s delicious.”
Tony stooped down next to her and scooped up some sand and fervently raised it to his lips. Their skeletons were found weeks later by hungry camels.
I’m not really a fan of backpacks, yet they’re so conveinient. I think I want to write a story about a girl with a black and whte stri[ed backpack. She wont be Dora or anything,; the story wont be focused on her backpack, but that’l be a detail, a good, but minor detail.
And the word just hits me like a ray of sun. College. Just 2 years away, so far, but yet so soon. It’ll seem like tomorrow when backpacks won’t be as necessary as they are now. Where everything will depend on me, and i’ll have to get used to it.
There’s a backpack in my house, wich I take to my school. There, I have all the cool stuff I need to have a great day on school, my backpack is blue, yellow, big and fancy, because is of a trademark name Chanel, which was created at france, by Coco Chanel.
My backpack was getting heavy after walking the four miles from school to my home under the railroad tracks. I don’t know what I’d do if the school ever checked out the fake address I had given him. I had had to pay my neighbor, Old Grimy, a bottle of whiskey to shave and pretend to be my father. The secretary didn’t even look twice. I guess she was having one of those days.
That God for my backpack, too. It held all of my worldly belongings. A toothbrush, a comb, two changes of clothes, all from the Good Sisters of St. Agatha.
kids school books and items for school not too heavy so they won’t hurt themselves or have items in it that they do not need always try to get a cute one that fits their personalities and ryan likes the kind that go over one shoulder
I want to backpack across Europe. I want to be thrown into the wide world, and I want to see if I can survive. I want to be exposed to new cultures, new languages, and most importantly…I want to meet new people. If we are essentially social creatures, then I want to fill my memory with as many smiling faces as I possibly can. I want to meet a variety of people, and I want to hear their stories. And I know the only way to find them is to venture outside of my own little word. Even so, my backpack remains empty, hanging in my closet, waiting for me to get the guts to follow a dream.
My backpack:
Is actually bigger than it looks;
Has lots of little compartments
Zips, pockets, lots of pockets;
That I hide all my little things in,
My heart, my souls scribbles
My rants and my misplaced judgement
Lunch boxes and snap glad bags,
Water bottle, Salts, vitamins, museli bars and
Peppermint tea; an orange,
Tobacco and filters sit at the bottom,
The book of the month, actually two months,
I take it everywhere with me
I will pack my backpack, but not all the way full. Just enough to carry without feeling it weigh down after a few hours. I will go to every place I have friends. That means, I will go everywhere.
She hugs her backpack like a teddy bear and stares through the rain at the train tracks below. Her heart hurts, but not sharply enough to bring tears. No one has come to see her off. Is it going to be like this forever? she wonders.
as the straps caresses the young mans back, he thinks about what will come of the day. perhaps a nice nap or a reprieve from the constant studying. this is all he wants. relief. from the old backpack slung around his shoulders.
i carry all my books in this everyday. it makes me think of the boarding school i go to. all the people are rich and have so many problems. they all think they are happy, but nobody is really happy there. i can’t wait for summer. i’ll get to take the backpack off, and the troubles will go.
The backpack was on the ground. It was just an ordinary backpack – until, Lucy zipped it open and a flood of light filled the room. A huge pair of tentacles shot out and wrapped tightly about her neck.
And with a sudden inspiration
we reach into our backpacks
and pull out a piece of informatin
a floating pieve of papter
in our so orgnainzed minds
and we take it with us
whereeer we go
because we cant leave it behind
its a part of our
consolidated selves
Backpack full of glasses – off for a picnic. At last – everything for the party is at hand, and I’m ready to let go of my old life for a drink with friends. Today the water is coming in without chlorine and we’re toasting to a new city.
And we’ll also drink to the departed and the lost. Wash away the tears with a welcome wave of water and stop our wallowing – swap it for some woohooing! How ? We’ll find a way!
Pack up your troubles in your old back pack and drink a drink to the fresh, the clean, the new, the sustaining! Christchurch! Rise Up!
These burdens i carry are like an emotional backpack. The pack feels as if it is loaded with stones. It makes me tire quickly and slows me down. But i have a choice. I can put this bag down and walk away. Or continue with them strapped to me.
the backpack was left unopened on the subway
noah spent the whole day worrying. he didn’t want his mothers day popsicle frame to go missing
he figured he could just hop back on the subway and find it.
but he didnt get on the same subway train.
so the backpack remained unopened, unclaimed.
school and my GOD do i hate school. i am a slacker and have always been a slacker and man i cannot even begin to tell you how many times i’ve gotten the “potential” talk. and perhaps perhaps perhaps it’s true, i’m a fucking genius and i’m especially smart and i would do quite well and gain success by actually trying in school. but all i want to do is smoke weed and fuck my girlfriend and fuck you it’s a great way to live.
I really like having my green backpack with me whenever I am on campus. It is probably unnecessary, I am a grad student now, but I really feel lost without it. My backpack is almost like a security blanket.
Well I really love backpacks mostly because they are really convenient. When I was on my mission though we weren’t allowed to carry them. That kind of stunk but it was really smart because otherwise we would get robbed. I wonder who invented the backpack? That would be a fun person to meet. I wonder if they got the idea from seeing animals carry their babies on their backs? That would be a very inspired and not commonly thought of idea. I would like to meet that person. Why don’t humans carry their babies on their backs? They would probably fall off. Because human babies don’t know how to hold on like animal babies. Wow, I can say a lot about backpacks.
If I had a backpack, I’d fill it with food and go for a long walk in the woods all by myself. I’d sit along a riverbank, bring out the food, and munch away. Food gives me calm. Nature gives me calm. It would be just a calming experience for me. Just me and my backpack.
I guess I finished sooner than expected. I don’t have much else to say about my backpack, except that the zipper is stuck and I can’t get it zipped back up. Hope I don’t lose my food.
I can fill you with the most basic concepts and ideas for my ongoing ventures. You’re not a symbol of school to me, or any such other unhappy necessity. You are for me to choose. You lead me on and allow me to enjoy my experiences for what they are- nothing yet. I hold on to only what I need, and come back with everything else.
Slung upon his shoulder, filled with the only contents he had left, the backpack weighed upon him with terrific force, as though all the struggles of his life were forcing him farther into the mud.
my backpack is purple and it has things in it but some things are just for me like sometimes you have a special place that only you know about (sometimes it is a dream place) and these things in my backpack that are just for me are the best things in the world like a million friends who are my best friend but im not theirs.
“Twenty-five days,” the words reverberated in her skull like the clanging of some gong as she made a bright, red X on June 1st. She flipped back to May and saw the thirty-one Xs there. Five months and five days ago, they’d told her she had six months to live. And, now she only had twenty-five of those left and every day she finished vertical, she added another X. Amy stuffed the calendar into a pocket, hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder, and left the motel. She smiled at the flatirons in front of her and said, “I took the one less traveled, and that has made all the difference.”
I have a backpack that has purple and pink birds on it. It has been a fantastic friend this year, but has become damaged. Next year I am probably going to need to get a new backpack for school. I will always love my backpacks.
dora! backpack, backpack… that familiar tune. like annoying little jingles that get stuck in your head. I wonder how much you’d earn if you made up one of those jingles. Is it hard? It’s like forcing yourself to be creative.
I have a really cool backpack, I picked it out at the beginning of the year and I keep lots of really important school work in it.
Right now there’s only two important things though and that’s my yearbook and my hoodie. School is almost over and almost time for a new backpack as the new year starts!
Hello backpack! We seem together again, I haven’t forgot our last view, what a trip. Well I remember when we went to Peru. When we visit the Incas and while we we’re analyzing the paintings on the walls, we got kidnapted and took to Guatemala. There they told us that we will took some packages and take’em to Rio de Janeiro, and pass them through the carnaval without getting caught. I don’t remember well how we actually made it, but here we are… still alive!
My backpack weighed down on my shoulders. And I thought in the back of mind, I could have done without the pan. It’s not like I was going to be gone for ten days. Five minimum. That’s what the counselor requested: five. It wasn’t too long or short. It was just a vacation from my hectic life. Work, picking up the kids, paying bills — the usual. But my life wasn’t usual anymore, no, far from it. I’m ahead of myself, so let me start from the beginning…
It can hold an endless amount of items. It can express your personality! I know mine does. It also allows me to hide those things i dont want people to see! Without it i would feel so unprepared, for class and life. I love my backpack and it loves me back.
I grabbed the last of my belongings and stuffed them in my backpack. I have no way of really knowing where I am headed, but I’m optimistic. My yellow Jansport, I hope I remembered clean underwear. Really? That’s my concern? Thanks, mother.
this is what i wear on my back when i go to school except I have been using a shoulder bag lately as I prefer the look and the style. Backpacks are great for when I skateboard cause it stays on firmly. My old one was blue but sometimes looked like it was purple which i wasn’t so thrilled about. Looking back though, I don’t really care about
The two hikers walked through the desert, the blazing sun looming over them like an overprotective 5,800ºK mother watching from 92 million miles away. Mary set down her backpack and said, “I’m parched; I must get a drink.”
Tony warned her, “That’s not water; that’s a mirage.”
Mary stooped down, scooped up a couple of hands full of sand and gulped it down. “Nope; this is actually water and it’s delicious.”
Tony stooped down next to her and scooped up some sand and fervently raised it to his lips. Their skeletons were found weeks later by hungry camels.
I’m not really a fan of backpacks, yet they’re so conveinient. I think I want to write a story about a girl with a black and whte stri[ed backpack. She wont be Dora or anything,; the story wont be focused on her backpack, but that’l be a detail, a good, but minor detail.
And the word just hits me like a ray of sun. College. Just 2 years away, so far, but yet so soon. It’ll seem like tomorrow when backpacks won’t be as necessary as they are now. Where everything will depend on me, and i’ll have to get used to it.
There’s a backpack in my house, wich I take to my school. There, I have all the cool stuff I need to have a great day on school, my backpack is blue, yellow, big and fancy, because is of a trademark name Chanel, which was created at france, by Coco Chanel.
Hoisted and slung like the carcass
It is, your backpack hangs off
Your shoulder, black and damp
And tatty.
Now that’s love.
school, back pain, fibromyalgia, liz’s red one and brandon’s matching one, pink, yellow, gym class, swimming, hair, cut
My backpack was getting heavy after walking the four miles from school to my home under the railroad tracks. I don’t know what I’d do if the school ever checked out the fake address I had given him. I had had to pay my neighbor, Old Grimy, a bottle of whiskey to shave and pretend to be my father. The secretary didn’t even look twice. I guess she was having one of those days.
That God for my backpack, too. It held all of my worldly belongings. A toothbrush, a comb, two changes of clothes, all from the Good Sisters of St. Agatha.
kids school books and items for school not too heavy so they won’t hurt themselves or have items in it that they do not need always try to get a cute one that fits their personalities and ryan likes the kind that go over one shoulder
I want to backpack across Europe. I want to be thrown into the wide world, and I want to see if I can survive. I want to be exposed to new cultures, new languages, and most importantly…I want to meet new people. If we are essentially social creatures, then I want to fill my memory with as many smiling faces as I possibly can. I want to meet a variety of people, and I want to hear their stories. And I know the only way to find them is to venture outside of my own little word. Even so, my backpack remains empty, hanging in my closet, waiting for me to get the guts to follow a dream.
My backpack:
Is actually bigger than it looks;
Has lots of little compartments
Zips, pockets, lots of pockets;
That I hide all my little things in,
My heart, my souls scribbles
My rants and my misplaced judgement
Lunch boxes and snap glad bags,
Water bottle, Salts, vitamins, museli bars and
Peppermint tea; an orange,
Tobacco and filters sit at the bottom,
The book of the month, actually two months,
I take it everywhere with me
I will pack my backpack, but not all the way full. Just enough to carry without feeling it weigh down after a few hours. I will go to every place I have friends. That means, I will go everywhere.
my thing that i carry to school. it holds all of my school and other stuff in it.
She hugs her backpack like a teddy bear and stares through the rain at the train tracks below. Her heart hurts, but not sharply enough to bring tears. No one has come to see her off. Is it going to be like this forever? she wonders.
as the straps caresses the young mans back, he thinks about what will come of the day. perhaps a nice nap or a reprieve from the constant studying. this is all he wants. relief. from the old backpack slung around his shoulders.
i carry all my books in this everyday. it makes me think of the boarding school i go to. all the people are rich and have so many problems. they all think they are happy, but nobody is really happy there. i can’t wait for summer. i’ll get to take the backpack off, and the troubles will go.
The backpack was on the ground. It was just an ordinary backpack – until, Lucy zipped it open and a flood of light filled the room. A huge pair of tentacles shot out and wrapped tightly about her neck.
My backpack is purple. It looks Indian. It has a bird on it aswell. It’s breaking, but I still love it.
And with a sudden inspiration
we reach into our backpacks
and pull out a piece of informatin
a floating pieve of papter
in our so orgnainzed minds
and we take it with us
whereeer we go
because we cant leave it behind
its a part of our
consolidated selves
Backpack full of glasses – off for a picnic. At last – everything for the party is at hand, and I’m ready to let go of my old life for a drink with friends. Today the water is coming in without chlorine and we’re toasting to a new city.
And we’ll also drink to the departed and the lost. Wash away the tears with a welcome wave of water and stop our wallowing – swap it for some woohooing! How ? We’ll find a way!
Pack up your troubles in your old back pack and drink a drink to the fresh, the clean, the new, the sustaining! Christchurch! Rise Up!
These burdens i carry are like an emotional backpack. The pack feels as if it is loaded with stones. It makes me tire quickly and slows me down. But i have a choice. I can put this bag down and walk away. Or continue with them strapped to me.
my back is backed up by the things on my mind and the things i back up are always on my mind. back up you mind and not your back.
the backpack was left unopened on the subway
noah spent the whole day worrying. he didn’t want his mothers day popsicle frame to go missing
he figured he could just hop back on the subway and find it.
but he didnt get on the same subway train.
so the backpack remained unopened, unclaimed.
back pack school children heavy books straps adjustable full of random crap and papers bookbag makes me feel like a mule not fun to carry
school and my GOD do i hate school. i am a slacker and have always been a slacker and man i cannot even begin to tell you how many times i’ve gotten the “potential” talk. and perhaps perhaps perhaps it’s true, i’m a fucking genius and i’m especially smart and i would do quite well and gain success by actually trying in school. but all i want to do is smoke weed and fuck my girlfriend and fuck you it’s a great way to live.
I really like having my green backpack with me whenever I am on campus. It is probably unnecessary, I am a grad student now, but I really feel lost without it. My backpack is almost like a security blanket.
Well I really love backpacks mostly because they are really convenient. When I was on my mission though we weren’t allowed to carry them. That kind of stunk but it was really smart because otherwise we would get robbed. I wonder who invented the backpack? That would be a fun person to meet. I wonder if they got the idea from seeing animals carry their babies on their backs? That would be a very inspired and not commonly thought of idea. I would like to meet that person. Why don’t humans carry their babies on their backs? They would probably fall off. Because human babies don’t know how to hold on like animal babies. Wow, I can say a lot about backpacks.
If I had a backpack, I’d fill it with food and go for a long walk in the woods all by myself. I’d sit along a riverbank, bring out the food, and munch away. Food gives me calm. Nature gives me calm. It would be just a calming experience for me. Just me and my backpack.
I guess I finished sooner than expected. I don’t have much else to say about my backpack, except that the zipper is stuck and I can’t get it zipped back up. Hope I don’t lose my food.
I can fill you with the most basic concepts and ideas for my ongoing ventures. You’re not a symbol of school to me, or any such other unhappy necessity. You are for me to choose. You lead me on and allow me to enjoy my experiences for what they are- nothing yet. I hold on to only what I need, and come back with everything else.
Slung upon his shoulder, filled with the only contents he had left, the backpack weighed upon him with terrific force, as though all the struggles of his life were forcing him farther into the mud.
my backpack is purple and it has things in it but some things are just for me like sometimes you have a special place that only you know about (sometimes it is a dream place) and these things in my backpack that are just for me are the best things in the world like a million friends who are my best friend but im not theirs.
im back
for another back pack
crack
against something wack
like licorice thats black
or a severe heart attack
lets just plan to keep it zipped up