Ezra Pound, a place that is deserted because of the amount of garbage that it has compiled. What could be the death of planet earth – ignorant human kind. A place of doom and darkness.
it’s derelict and disgusting. it’s not used anymore. the children keep playing there, even though they could hurt themselves. no one wants to live by it, even though it was once useful. someone should do something, it’s a mess.
we were round all around the field the cricket ground – all boredom banished as fordern vinsensitive all rounder squalior beneaming my friend and teacher aldridge
This world is becoming a wasteland. We’re littering it with our nasty words, our toxic waste, in fact, our words are just as toxic. WE are wasting away our lives, humanities compassion, understanding, love. It’s draining away, we are being drained of our humanity.
A wasteland is a terrible place to be, all out and hot in the sun in the middle of post apocalyptic america, you wonder if zombies are going to come out of the rusted frames of cars that have been abandoned for years now. You dont have time to think about that as the main concern is how you are going to survive, where will you live, and if there are any other survivors.
The land around me was dry and empty. I was alone. No-one around to hear me scream. This place was a wasteland, and there was nothing I could do about it. I would die here, and I had to accept that.
the wasteland my own my creates on a beautiful day with limited idea in what to do. My mind is plentiful like a garden but the air is too sweet to savor. I dream beyond the point of dreaming. I think beyond the point of thinking yet i still stay alone.
So I am really confused now because I am pretty sure it just said “wasted” instead of “wasteland.” However, when I was last wasted very much, I had a great time with Evan. I was with him for the first time and it felt really good because I wanted to be with him for a very long time, so it made me extremely happy and I guess – and hope – him as well.
There was a deep dark wasteland sitting at the bottom of the cavern. I don’t know how I got there, but I did. I had no time to think, I just had to do. I was running away, but even as I turned back to look I couldn’t tell what I was running from. Was it real? Or was I just imagining it?
the world as we know it has been wasted away by the people whom ihabit it, we take advantage of the beautiful perfect eco system we were so graciously given…. and why?
Because of our greedy tendencies. We lose focus on what is important, and get caught up with “things”
it was a total wasteland. there were no trees, no houses, no life. Death. Total death. An incredible heat. hotness. Sun, burning sun that singed your skin. I waited to be picked up, but when my time had come around and no one arrived, I knew I myself would be dead soon.
Her mind was a wasteland, void of fluidity of thought, parched and barren, absent ideas or inspiration, the last of its oases long since having dried out, boiled away to nothing by the harsh light of an impending deadline.
It was a bright pulsing light that turned the world into a wasteland, thought Jensen, but admittedly a much larger pulse of light. Nevertheless, Jensen froze for a moment when he saw the light, but then gingerly poked his index finger under the device and pulled it from the ground. What the hell, Jensen said out loud, what are these wires leading to?
Teenage dreams are a wasteland. When one reaches adulthood, they;re dreams become a wasteland. Our world is filled with to many wastelands. We should change that.
I’m stuck in a wasteland. Searching everywhere to find the end. But I don’t see an escape. I feel lost… Stuck… trapped. This wasteland is full of useless things.
life was gone along with my hope. i was the sole survivor of world war four. within the past 9 years, iv met no other living creature. i was beginning to wonder if life was even worth it any more, or if i should just put an end to my misery; but with doing so, would i wipe out the only chance earth had?
there was a bomb. it wiped out everything. life on earth was scarce. food was even more scarce. i was on a journey to deliver the message of hope, a journey that was far from easy.
You think in absolutes. This is a wasteland or this is Eden. It’s terrible isn’t it? To be framed in by margins, or more simply put, these borders of doubt?
I look out on this life.
Really?
A wasteland, you say?
Well, that would be one view in describing it.
As for another?
Well isn’t that thought for another time?
It seems I’m way over mine as the gong’s just sounded like a minute ago. Guess the whole concept made me feel a little meditative. There’s a lot to think about when trying to define a concept as illusive as utopia and hell.
I am a waste land myself. I am barren and empty. I have nothing to give. I have nothing to share. I am fucking desolate. it’s as simple as that.
I have nothing.
Have nothing.
Nothing.
Teenage wasteland basically like that song baba o reily I think its called. Staten island is a wasteland. It has a huge dump by the mall. I think jersey smells just as bad but everytime I pass the mall it just stinks. good thing I live here.. good thing I dnt have to stay
Fuck it, hit the bucket.
One word daily leaves me craving more than just all you to offer me.
I want to write about a thousand words
a million words, until the world is black and blue with my sadness and you’re all alone
in your house, in the dark, in this wasteland. that you’ve brought upon yourself for leaving me empty and running me dry.
this is nothing but a wasteland
a wasterland,
no mans land.
there is no hope for the wiked, and there is no peace for the damned
keep me away from what you have
in this wasted wasterland.
It lay desolate and barren. This wasteland was once a beautiful, thriving city full of wonder and prosperity. Now it is nothing and hold no sentiment to anyone. Such a shame when great empires become wastelands.
the world is a wasteland, a land of waste and decay. Our place has become a place where nothing flourishes and everything falls into nothingness because we don’t care for it. that is what wasteland truly means. it means we waste our land and eventually there will be nothing left. sad isn’t it?
this world is a barren wasteland. every day i walk through the heaps of other peoples rejections and hope to find just one pretty thing to turn my eyes to. I havent yet. But I haven’t stopped looking.
garbage junk bad horrible nasty dirty gross environmentally bad
terrible universe earth planet change make a change now you need to you’re the only person who can control our world. it starts with us. be the change you want to see in the world. otherwise who will? if not us then who? we are the future and we must take action because it’s up to us and nobody else. make a difference you know you can. just do it. dont be lazy or afraid. garbage is bad. we need to recycle more and do more for the planet and stop focusing so much on money. because it wont matter if there is no earth.
I was a teenage wasteland
I don’t even know what the fuck that’s from but
it rather oddly applies
I miss being a teenager…but at the same time I don’t.
I didn’t have Kyle as a teenager.
I was treated like shit as a teenager.
But…
I had time for my books and my music.
The wasteland was huge. Scraps of metal lye everywhere, trash, you name it, he had seen it. It was the fifth day of the big Scrap when he saw it glittering. Nothing ever glittered in the wasteland.
The wasteland of my life is made up of highschool sweethearts and no good best friend rants come on people doesnt anyone care that highschool is just another way for adults to trap our tiny imbuslie minds in something we call important and here I go ranting about college again I hear enough of this from my parents “you need to go to college to get a life blah blah blah” I have a life, my teenage wasteland is wasting away watching people makeout out side of class, while I get whistled at as I walk to gym. Im in gym shorts and sure I was wearing a dress before I entered the locker room doesnt any guy give a fuck how I feel, dont my friends? no not really the only guy I like all my freinds hate. What a great life highschool is. Its a lame wasteland and I have 3 more years. I hate I highschool. people always say these are your glorry years live them well. well nothing good happensin my glorry years so why live in then I can drown on if i want to.
A great wasteland stretched out before her. A silvered desert scrubbed with shrubs and sand. It seemed to round up at the edges like a bowl and the moon floated lowly in its dip. She cried out to it in a howl, listening for a return, her fur on the back of her neck rising in excitement when the call was returned and she realized she wouldn’t have to make this journey alone.
Ezra Pound, a place that is deserted because of the amount of garbage that it has compiled. What could be the death of planet earth – ignorant human kind. A place of doom and darkness.
it’s derelict and disgusting. it’s not used anymore. the children keep playing there, even though they could hurt themselves. no one wants to live by it, even though it was once useful. someone should do something, it’s a mess.
we were round all around the field the cricket ground – all boredom banished as fordern vinsensitive all rounder squalior beneaming my friend and teacher aldridge
This world is becoming a wasteland. We’re littering it with our nasty words, our toxic waste, in fact, our words are just as toxic. WE are wasting away our lives, humanities compassion, understanding, love. It’s draining away, we are being drained of our humanity.
i don’t know what wasteland means. But… i think its somewhat connected to barren land where nothings able to survive.
A wasteland is a terrible place to be, all out and hot in the sun in the middle of post apocalyptic america, you wonder if zombies are going to come out of the rusted frames of cars that have been abandoned for years now. You dont have time to think about that as the main concern is how you are going to survive, where will you live, and if there are any other survivors.
The land around me was dry and empty. I was alone. No-one around to hear me scream. This place was a wasteland, and there was nothing I could do about it. I would die here, and I had to accept that.
the wasteland my own my creates on a beautiful day with limited idea in what to do. My mind is plentiful like a garden but the air is too sweet to savor. I dream beyond the point of dreaming. I think beyond the point of thinking yet i still stay alone.
So I am really confused now because I am pretty sure it just said “wasted” instead of “wasteland.” However, when I was last wasted very much, I had a great time with Evan. I was with him for the first time and it felt really good because I wanted to be with him for a very long time, so it made me extremely happy and I guess – and hope – him as well.
There was a deep dark wasteland sitting at the bottom of the cavern. I don’t know how I got there, but I did. I had no time to think, I just had to do. I was running away, but even as I turned back to look I couldn’t tell what I was running from. Was it real? Or was I just imagining it?
garage sell tragedy, louisiana shores, a bird covered in oil, recycle,green, we live in one
the world as we know it has been wasted away by the people whom ihabit it, we take advantage of the beautiful perfect eco system we were so graciously given…. and why?
Because of our greedy tendencies. We lose focus on what is important, and get caught up with “things”
Teenage Wasteland. My sister was obsessed with David Cook from American Idol a few years back. She loved his cover of the song. What a mistake…
it was a total wasteland. there were no trees, no houses, no life. Death. Total death. An incredible heat. hotness. Sun, burning sun that singed your skin. I waited to be picked up, but when my time had come around and no one arrived, I knew I myself would be dead soon.
What is my body, if it’s no good to you?
What is my mind, if it’s no good to me?
My heart’s empty contents
Is all but a wasteland to us.
Her mind was a wasteland, void of fluidity of thought, parched and barren, absent ideas or inspiration, the last of its oases long since having dried out, boiled away to nothing by the harsh light of an impending deadline.
change my attempt, good intentions. crouched over. you were not there living in fear. but signs were not really that scare. obvious tears.
It was a bright pulsing light that turned the world into a wasteland, thought Jensen, but admittedly a much larger pulse of light. Nevertheless, Jensen froze for a moment when he saw the light, but then gingerly poked his index finger under the device and pulled it from the ground. What the hell, Jensen said out loud, what are these wires leading to?
Teenage dreams are a wasteland. When one reaches adulthood, they;re dreams become a wasteland. Our world is filled with to many wastelands. We should change that.
I’m stuck in a wasteland. Searching everywhere to find the end. But I don’t see an escape. I feel lost… Stuck… trapped. This wasteland is full of useless things.
life was gone along with my hope. i was the sole survivor of world war four. within the past 9 years, iv met no other living creature. i was beginning to wonder if life was even worth it any more, or if i should just put an end to my misery; but with doing so, would i wipe out the only chance earth had?
there was a bomb. it wiped out everything. life on earth was scarce. food was even more scarce. i was on a journey to deliver the message of hope, a journey that was far from easy.
Is this earth a wasteland of souls?
wondering, having no place to go,
confined to the crust
not able to escape..
not even to the moon
im on one
You think in absolutes. This is a wasteland or this is Eden. It’s terrible isn’t it? To be framed in by margins, or more simply put, these borders of doubt?
I look out on this life.
Really?
A wasteland, you say?
Well, that would be one view in describing it.
As for another?
Well isn’t that thought for another time?
It seems I’m way over mine as the gong’s just sounded like a minute ago. Guess the whole concept made me feel a little meditative. There’s a lot to think about when trying to define a concept as illusive as utopia and hell.
I am a waste land myself. I am barren and empty. I have nothing to give. I have nothing to share. I am fucking desolate. it’s as simple as that.
I have nothing.
Have nothing.
Nothing.
Teenage wasteland basically like that song baba o reily I think its called. Staten island is a wasteland. It has a huge dump by the mall. I think jersey smells just as bad but everytime I pass the mall it just stinks. good thing I live here.. good thing I dnt have to stay
Fuck it, hit the bucket.
One word daily leaves me craving more than just all you to offer me.
I want to write about a thousand words
a million words, until the world is black and blue with my sadness and you’re all alone
in your house, in the dark, in this wasteland. that you’ve brought upon yourself for leaving me empty and running me dry.
this is nothing but a wasteland
a wasterland,
no mans land.
there is no hope for the wiked, and there is no peace for the damned
keep me away from what you have
in this wasted wasterland.
It lay desolate and barren. This wasteland was once a beautiful, thriving city full of wonder and prosperity. Now it is nothing and hold no sentiment to anyone. Such a shame when great empires become wastelands.
the world is a wasteland, a land of waste and decay. Our place has become a place where nothing flourishes and everything falls into nothingness because we don’t care for it. that is what wasteland truly means. it means we waste our land and eventually there will be nothing left. sad isn’t it?
Wasteland, let’s not turn our world into a wasteland, and instead make it a happy place where bunnies run around and gold grows on trees.
this world is a barren wasteland. every day i walk through the heaps of other peoples rejections and hope to find just one pretty thing to turn my eyes to. I havent yet. But I haven’t stopped looking.
I feel like I am in a constant state of nothingness. Nothing being accomplished. Not meeting my potential. A mental wasteland. Completely useless.
garbage junk bad horrible nasty dirty gross environmentally bad
terrible universe earth planet change make a change now you need to you’re the only person who can control our world. it starts with us. be the change you want to see in the world. otherwise who will? if not us then who? we are the future and we must take action because it’s up to us and nobody else. make a difference you know you can. just do it. dont be lazy or afraid. garbage is bad. we need to recycle more and do more for the planet and stop focusing so much on money. because it wont matter if there is no earth.
I was a teenage wasteland
I don’t even know what the fuck that’s from but
it rather oddly applies
I miss being a teenager…but at the same time I don’t.
I didn’t have Kyle as a teenager.
I was treated like shit as a teenager.
But…
I had time for my books and my music.
But…
Kyle.
The best part of my life wasn’t here.
Thus
I was a teenage wasteland.
The wasteland was huge. Scraps of metal lye everywhere, trash, you name it, he had seen it. It was the fifth day of the big Scrap when he saw it glittering. Nothing ever glittered in the wasteland.
The wasteland of my life is made up of highschool sweethearts and no good best friend rants come on people doesnt anyone care that highschool is just another way for adults to trap our tiny imbuslie minds in something we call important and here I go ranting about college again I hear enough of this from my parents “you need to go to college to get a life blah blah blah” I have a life, my teenage wasteland is wasting away watching people makeout out side of class, while I get whistled at as I walk to gym. Im in gym shorts and sure I was wearing a dress before I entered the locker room doesnt any guy give a fuck how I feel, dont my friends? no not really the only guy I like all my freinds hate. What a great life highschool is. Its a lame wasteland and I have 3 more years. I hate I highschool. people always say these are your glorry years live them well. well nothing good happensin my glorry years so why live in then I can drown on if i want to.
A great wasteland stretched out before her. A silvered desert scrubbed with shrubs and sand. It seemed to round up at the edges like a bowl and the moon floated lowly in its dip. She cried out to it in a howl, listening for a return, her fur on the back of her neck rising in excitement when the call was returned and she realized she wouldn’t have to make this journey alone.
Such a big vacant land between my ears, a builder’s dream, so much fertile ground, not being utilized.