money finance happiness i have a bucket blue purple bucket nice things happy be don’t worry yay hello i have money bank loan loans i don’t take loans i have a lot of loans
there’s a hole in the bucket. a big, fat, stinking hole. it was put there by someone else and i had to deal with it. it was to become the story of my life. perhaps, even, the story of your life too.
as a little girl, i loved to play in the mud. My favourite thing to do was make mud pies1 and one day i found this bucket which my perfect companion while i was baking these earthy mounds of goodness that used to always put a smile on my face.
A bucket with holes in it is almost useless unless watering flowers on a path as you walk. A full one needs a companion for balance and an empty one longs to be filled. The end
I’d talk about a bucket full of tears but I’ve grown tired of being sad all the time. You’re the only person who has ever affected me this way and its got to stop. I’m happy, I’m complete. You talking to me would be grand but you not talking to me would be just fine. I’ll just let fate decide.
The bucket, sitting alone, near the wall. Empty, raindrops slowly dripping, but with a rhythm. smooth, dependable rhythm.
Laura thought the drops were soothing, with a reason to stay and stare, for hours on end in the rain. It calmed her while she thought about her past, she thought about what is happening and what happens next.
As I passed along the sidewalk, I glimpsed a rickety old man staring into dead space, just as if no crowd walked in front of him. I stopped, looked at him, and scrutinized him up and down. He looked as if he was a fisherman, judging from the buckets of smelly fish scattered around him and the fishing supplies behind him.
However, what struck me was that he seemed as if he was lost in a daydream, forever trapped in some sort of hazy reality.
I was about to speak when his skeletal hand grabbed my arm. Startled, I dropped the notebook I had in my hand as he whispered, his iron hand still clamped on me.
“Help me.”
For once I have a place to keep everything. Never mind that there is a hole in the bucket and some stuff drains out. At least it keeps the load lighter. However I am compelled to keep putting stuff in the bucket; even stuff that I already put there, or I think I did.
The bucket stood against the wall, dripping with water, standing, in contrast to its surroundings, who knew that a bucket would be beautiful.
Goes to show how anything can be beautiful, with imagination with a creative mind.
it was alone, and it was waiting. thats what i noticed second.
and for some reason that bothered me. not that it was a particular shade of vermillion or that the sunlight flickered off it a certain way at a slant, but that it was waiting.
I have a bucket, it was given to me by my ex’s mother. Surprisingly I cherish the thing, I really like it. We recently used it to store about 400 water balloons, surprisingly heavy.
I picked up the bucket full of water and spun it around in a circle really fast. “See?” I giggled. “Gravity makes everything stick together, just like you and me.” But he couldn’t hear my true thoughts… Thank the heavens.
The water dripped from the ceiling with rhythmless persistence, the poor bucket trying so hard to catch every falling droplet. Mouth open, arms open, filling slowly with the burden of the builder’s negligence.
Eyes to the sky, what the bucket had failed to notice was his own split, his own splinter; his own mess pooling beneath him, soaking into the carpet below.
a bucket is an empty space, just waiting to be filled up. a bucket; a willing mind, ready to learn. a bucket; a word, waiting to be spoken. a bucket; a thought, sparking into an idea.
She wept what felt like buckets of tears that night. It was just so stressful.
She blamed herself for not doing the revision, but nothing could be done now that it was the day before the exam. She sighed and wiped away her tears.
It would all come together. It had to. She just needed to work harder.
bucket is what you fill in water with. it can be used fro so many different things
There can be a bucket list of things you would want to do as well. however that bucket will keep getting filled every now and then. keeping the bucket half full is always so important
A bucket is one of the simplest things in the Universe. It’s a kind of large bowl you use to put stuff in. With a handle, so you can easily transport this stuff.
Drip. Drip… Did it stop? Drip. Drip. She picked herself off the bed and sighed. ‘Nope,’ she said as she glanced over at the bucket at the brink of overflowing with rain.
Pass the buck…the buck stops here…but the buck never seems to stop in our society anymore. There is always someone else that can be left holding the buck. What happened to personal responsibility?
empty yet full
half empty?
children laughing and mother’s crying.
is it a hat or a tool?
do you fill it
do i fill it
does it fulfill me?
bucket for you, bucket for tea
bucket man is awesome. he doesn’t do much, but everyone’s eternally grateful for him, even though the security man always does the saving. and bucket man is awesome because he’s an ordinary guy
buckets have a lot of water in them. that’s stupid because not all of them do. i don’t know. i think of red and sand when i think of buckets. it would suck if they all had holes in them. then there would be no purpose. who really uses buckets? i don’t they’re dumb objects. ha.
i see that buckets are made for holding but what if they are made for emptying. what if i took all the contents in my heart, the icky kind, and emptied it on the ground. i wouldn’t want my bucket to hold it forever. my bucket is master emptier. it empties all things.
Bucket rhymes with “bakit”, which means “why” in Tagalog. That’s kinda why it’s used in an advertisement with ice BUCKETS and asking BAKIT you should buy it.
i have a bucket of thoughts attached to feelings that i would like to pour on you. a bucket of desires which i have to let free, a bucket of unsettling longing, a bucket of giving.
A bucket, commonly seen as something very utilitarian, very practical has permeated our lives in ways we can never imagine. Could you imagine life without buckets? No. They are so much more useful and precious than so many other things, and yet their value pass us by every time.
bucket, sitting empty in the sun.
bucket, swung up by joyful, tiny, life-filled hands.
bucket, filled with life-giving water.
bucket, poured on the dirt, on tender green plants.
bucket, swung down on the ground.
bucket, a carrier of life-giving food.
A bucket of memories. That’s what my mind feels like sometimes. Just stuff and stuff and more stuff, slimy and dirty and slippery, all crammed together in a little space, with no choice but to sit there in my head and never go away. If you put old trash in a bucket and eave it by the back door, it won’t disappear. It’ll just sit there, for months, getting smellier and more unpleasant to deal with every day you choose to ignore it. That’s what the things in my brain are like. They can’t simply go away, leave, hide in some forgotten corner. Everything always has to float back up.
i collected a bucket of water from the river.
Then I pour the water into the drum. The drum was full of fresh water that i collected. I use the water for washing
Go to the top of the Effiel Tower
Sky dive
got to all London attractions
go to Oz
cook in a restaurant
have a successful business
raise a family
watch the sunrise on a beach
go camping
i like to take a bucket and spade to the seaside. preferably a big spade, for digging big moats and building big sandcastles, we have a bucket which is yellow I think I need to get a new one for our holiday becv=se the handle’s broken. we like to cellect hermit crabs too.
money finance happiness i have a bucket blue purple bucket nice things happy be don’t worry yay hello i have money bank loan loans i don’t take loans i have a lot of loans
By Kazzu1999 URL on 07.09.2012
there’s a hole in the bucket. a big, fat, stinking hole. it was put there by someone else and i had to deal with it. it was to become the story of my life. perhaps, even, the story of your life too.
By Linda on 07.09.2012
as a little girl, i loved to play in the mud. My favourite thing to do was make mud pies1 and one day i found this bucket which my perfect companion while i was baking these earthy mounds of goodness that used to always put a smile on my face.
By Natalie URL on 07.09.2012
today I remembered that my bucket list is another reason to live, something to strive for.
By t URL on 07.09.2012
A bucket with holes in it is almost useless unless watering flowers on a path as you walk. A full one needs a companion for balance and an empty one longs to be filled. The end
By Phil on 07.09.2012
The bucket was heavy so she set it down, arms aching. She’d rest for a minute then continue.
By Eva Shore URL on 07.09.2012
I’d talk about a bucket full of tears but I’ve grown tired of being sad all the time. You’re the only person who has ever affected me this way and its got to stop. I’m happy, I’m complete. You talking to me would be grand but you not talking to me would be just fine. I’ll just let fate decide.
By ban-a-bomb URL on 07.09.2012
Bucket, makes me think of the movie bucket list with Morgan freeman. I’ve always loved him and his movies. I wish I could just hug him.
By Jade on 07.09.2012
“Put a bucket on your head, it would still be prettier than your face.” yelled one of my bullies. I kept walking, ignoring him.
By Rachel on 07.09.2012
The bucket, sitting alone, near the wall. Empty, raindrops slowly dripping, but with a rhythm. smooth, dependable rhythm.
Laura thought the drops were soothing, with a reason to stay and stare, for hours on end in the rain. It calmed her while she thought about her past, she thought about what is happening and what happens next.
By Ally on 07.09.2012
As I passed along the sidewalk, I glimpsed a rickety old man staring into dead space, just as if no crowd walked in front of him. I stopped, looked at him, and scrutinized him up and down. He looked as if he was a fisherman, judging from the buckets of smelly fish scattered around him and the fishing supplies behind him.
However, what struck me was that he seemed as if he was lost in a daydream, forever trapped in some sort of hazy reality.
I was about to speak when his skeletal hand grabbed my arm. Startled, I dropped the notebook I had in my hand as he whispered, his iron hand still clamped on me.
“Help me.”
By Tee URL on 07.09.2012
For once I have a place to keep everything. Never mind that there is a hole in the bucket and some stuff drains out. At least it keeps the load lighter. However I am compelled to keep putting stuff in the bucket; even stuff that I already put there, or I think I did.
By Ron Bell on 07.09.2012
The bucket stood against the wall, dripping with water, standing, in contrast to its surroundings, who knew that a bucket would be beautiful.
Goes to show how anything can be beautiful, with imagination with a creative mind.
By '98Writer on 07.09.2012
it was red and shiny, thats what i noticed first.
it was alone, and it was waiting. thats what i noticed second.
and for some reason that bothered me. not that it was a particular shade of vermillion or that the sunlight flickered off it a certain way at a slant, but that it was waiting.
what for?
By swansandsparrows URL on 07.09.2012
I have a bucket, it was given to me by my ex’s mother. Surprisingly I cherish the thing, I really like it. We recently used it to store about 400 water balloons, surprisingly heavy.
By Sage Fuentes on 07.09.2012
I picked up the bucket full of water and spun it around in a circle really fast. “See?” I giggled. “Gravity makes everything stick together, just like you and me.” But he couldn’t hear my true thoughts… Thank the heavens.
By Kayleena on 07.09.2012
The water dripped from the ceiling with rhythmless persistence, the poor bucket trying so hard to catch every falling droplet. Mouth open, arms open, filling slowly with the burden of the builder’s negligence.
Eyes to the sky, what the bucket had failed to notice was his own split, his own splinter; his own mess pooling beneath him, soaking into the carpet below.
By Barber URL on 07.09.2012
a bucket is an empty space, just waiting to be filled up. a bucket; a willing mind, ready to learn. a bucket; a word, waiting to be spoken. a bucket; a thought, sparking into an idea.
By Alexa URL on 07.09.2012
She wept what felt like buckets of tears that night. It was just so stressful.
She blamed herself for not doing the revision, but nothing could be done now that it was the day before the exam. She sighed and wiped away her tears.
It would all come together. It had to. She just needed to work harder.
By bethisabee URL on 07.09.2012
bucket is what you fill in water with. it can be used fro so many different things
There can be a bucket list of things you would want to do as well. however that bucket will keep getting filled every now and then. keeping the bucket half full is always so important
By suni on 07.09.2012
A bucket is one of the simplest things in the Universe. It’s a kind of large bowl you use to put stuff in. With a handle, so you can easily transport this stuff.
By Mia on 07.09.2012
Drip. Drip… Did it stop? Drip. Drip. She picked herself off the bed and sighed. ‘Nope,’ she said as she glanced over at the bucket at the brink of overflowing with rain.
By Amy CJ URL on 07.09.2012
Pass the buck…the buck stops here…but the buck never seems to stop in our society anymore. There is always someone else that can be left holding the buck. What happened to personal responsibility?
By essays35 on 07.09.2012
i was waiting for you
you didn’t come
you promised me forever
now im alone
now im sad
now im crying
holding a bucket, full of tears
By Vim URL on 07.09.2012
empty yet full
half empty?
children laughing and mother’s crying.
is it a hat or a tool?
do you fill it
do i fill it
does it fulfill me?
bucket for you, bucket for tea
By Kady Burrell on 07.09.2012
bucket man is awesome. he doesn’t do much, but everyone’s eternally grateful for him, even though the security man always does the saving. and bucket man is awesome because he’s an ordinary guy
By Aria on 07.09.2012
buckets have a lot of water in them. that’s stupid because not all of them do. i don’t know. i think of red and sand when i think of buckets. it would suck if they all had holes in them. then there would be no purpose. who really uses buckets? i don’t they’re dumb objects. ha.
By alaina on 07.09.2012
i see that buckets are made for holding but what if they are made for emptying. what if i took all the contents in my heart, the icky kind, and emptied it on the ground. i wouldn’t want my bucket to hold it forever. my bucket is master emptier. it empties all things.
By Kady Adeline URL on 07.09.2012
Bucket rhymes with “bakit”, which means “why” in Tagalog. That’s kinda why it’s used in an advertisement with ice BUCKETS and asking BAKIT you should buy it.
By Aria URL on 07.09.2012
i have a bucket of thoughts attached to feelings that i would like to pour on you. a bucket of desires which i have to let free, a bucket of unsettling longing, a bucket of giving.
By Bish URL on 07.09.2012
this is unfair. i was only aware that the timer is on just now. :| how awkward. anyways, bucket ba/?1!!?
By Aria URL on 07.09.2012
Drip drip. The water falls into the bucket. Achingly slow, teasing. Taunting. I stood. Mouth dry. Waiting. Anxious. I stood. Drip drip.
By Z on 07.09.2012
FOOD! nyahaha, bucket meal, chicken preferably.
By tictactoe URL on 07.09.2012
bucketful, clean, bucket of water, bucket of vegetables, wooden, dirty, bucket of sand
By ivana on 07.09.2012
A bucket, commonly seen as something very utilitarian, very practical has permeated our lives in ways we can never imagine. Could you imagine life without buckets? No. They are so much more useful and precious than so many other things, and yet their value pass us by every time.
By Sunny on 07.09.2012
bucket, sitting empty in the sun.
bucket, swung up by joyful, tiny, life-filled hands.
bucket, filled with life-giving water.
bucket, poured on the dirt, on tender green plants.
bucket, swung down on the ground.
bucket, a carrier of life-giving food.
By Somebody on 07.09.2012
A bucket of memories. That’s what my mind feels like sometimes. Just stuff and stuff and more stuff, slimy and dirty and slippery, all crammed together in a little space, with no choice but to sit there in my head and never go away. If you put old trash in a bucket and eave it by the back door, it won’t disappear. It’ll just sit there, for months, getting smellier and more unpleasant to deal with every day you choose to ignore it. That’s what the things in my brain are like. They can’t simply go away, leave, hide in some forgotten corner. Everything always has to float back up.
By Anna on 07.09.2012
i collected a bucket of water from the river.
Then I pour the water into the drum. The drum was full of fresh water that i collected. I use the water for washing
By mashiti on 07.09.2012
List! things on mine;
Go to the top of the Effiel Tower
Sky dive
got to all London attractions
go to Oz
cook in a restaurant
have a successful business
raise a family
watch the sunrise on a beach
go camping
By beckie on 07.09.2012
i like to take a bucket and spade to the seaside. preferably a big spade, for digging big moats and building big sandcastles, we have a bucket which is yellow I think I need to get a new one for our holiday becv=se the handle’s broken. we like to cellect hermit crabs too.
By jan sambrook on 07.09.2012