Money. This is the thing that is making all us insane. A little piece of paper playing with our heads.
Dili
banks are places that you go to get money when you are broke. It is also the side of a river or beach. Basically, banks save your life. Whether you are super- emotional, or in need of money desperately!
Banks are where people store their dreams, they hope to save enough for that future thing that elusive hope. Meanwhile undreaming they work to fill the bank that never dreams.
Man I hate my bank. Recently, I went online to sign into my account… You know, to check if I had any money left. Typed in my password… DENIED. Typed it in again… WRONG PASSWORD. TRY AGAIN. I did. Same thing happened… Me: “Stupid online bank! You think you know MY PASSWORD!?!?!?!”
Banks is a word that most people think has two or three meaning. One meaning could be the plural for bank, a place where money is stored. The second meaning is banks, as in the banks of a river. The last meaning could be banks as in a slang term for a perfect basket in basketball.
Cole
Banks are somewhat depressing. They remind you of all the money you don’t have. The money you wish you had. The money other people have and have enjoyed for potentially all their lives while you have been left with little. But banks also can remind you that you have something. It could be worse. Much worse.
Alana
Banks hold your money. They also do trust funds, loans, stuff with cash and everything else money related. They do other things like buy and sell things to try and make a profit. This way everyone will make a profit and the people are cheated upon and then everyone is soooo happy that they got stuff.
Molly
A bank is a place where you invest your money, but when you think about it, so is life. You choose where your money, goes where it’s spent, who you spend it on. Just like life, you choose where you go, who you spend it with, what you spend your time doing. So choose your banks carefully.
iain, being a british author. russell, being an american novelist. tyra, being a black supermodel. piggy, being a coin keeper. being inside turns. being basketball shots. being what a pool ball does before it pockets.
williamtellact
Once upon a time there was a man named Banks. Everyone thought that it was strange to call your son that, so he was picked on a lot. He didn’t really care, and made the best he could out of his life, by becoming a professional well written banker.
Mina
i think there are different types of banks. the one i have is wells fargo and the one my mom has is bank of america and my dad has chase. I dont like chace i think it’s a bad bank what i think i think a lot about the inside with desks and people dressed up and a waiting line, the shiny floor and the big roofs and the nice people who want to help you.
Karla
A bank or a prison? Money or politics? Where does the word come from? In the end it is a prison for money and the bank will control a part of politics.
The man jumped in from the open ledge on the roof, eager to get his hands on some cash. He quietly opened the vault door, which had been unlocked since 1981. He grabbed as much money as he could handle and stuffed it into his burlap sack. Something told him they were coming. He jumped back through the roof, leaving no trace of himself.
Autumn Hayley
ugh i hate banks and money, i wish people would get everything they need for free, but not what they want. only needs for free. we would have a better world without banks and money then. li,fe is hard.
ds
Banks line the street I walk to on my way to class Monday mornings. It is a near daily reminder of how marterial we all are. Do we need to have three banks on one street corner? Wouldn’t one be enough?
I am always terrified to go to the bank. I feel lost as soon as I walk in the door. Even if I am making a simple deposit, which I have done many times, I just feel as if all of my senses go out the door and I loose all competency.
KP
The banks of life make me stay, stand, not move.
I stand, idly, waiting for tomorrow, but knowing it might never come.
But I will wait, I will wait, I will wait
Until tomorrow, the next day, whenever.
Abby
Banks, something that is meant to keep money safe but is offend robbed because of it.
sam
He leans forward, left hand making a visor over his eyes. From the sunshine.
Squinting, he presses the number on the keypad. Again. He leans his forehead against the brick wall above the console.
He lets out a sigh. Card withheld again.
‘Banks!’ he mutters, before marching by the lady in the queue behind him.
Fish swim up the watery banks feeding on the plant life growing on the pebbles. They nibble every last bite off the rocks till they are pleasantly stuffed.
Aislinn Sheehan
I hate banks. The people there have no emotion. My brother, he’s 19, went to the bank yesterday to try to talk to them, but to no avail. They won’t relent. It doesn’t matter to them that our mother is sick and our father is dead, they don’t care. Rent is due tomorrow and if we don’t somehow come up with the money by then, we’re evicted.
Third Plan8(Planet)
Griffin was used to the smell of money in the air. He had worked for ten years on the floors of the biggest banks on Wall Street. Olivia Winthrop was not able to intimidate him with her diamonds from Bond Street and hair from Bel Air.
sharon london
I sat on the high banks of a stream, the current lazily twisting here and there. A frog plopped into the water, startled by my roaming hand, which was softly stroking a daisy nearby. My feet hung off the bank, allowing my toes to make small ripples in the water.The wind gently teased my hair until I had a halo of frizzies, and went on to softly caress my face. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, and I ripped the daisy out of the ground, dirt still clinging hopelessly to the daisy’s roots. The wind slapped my face, the water drowned my feet, and the frog emerged to the surface, dead.
They went to the bank that sultry morning in july and withdrew all their money. All 2300 dollars, they needed it, wanted it, loved it, rebelled in it. Why? Why, the money that they had saved and saved through out time and space and relative dimensions. Because death was coming.
jessica
Jason and Emily stood near the banks of the river where they used to play as children. He bends over and his fingers fold around a round, flat rock. He straightens his back and, after giving Emily a wink, whips his wrist so that the rock starts skipping over the water.
1, 2, 3, 4.
It sinks into the river. Emily walks over to him and picks up her own rock. She throws the rock on the water competitively.
1, 2, 3, 4.
And it too sinks.
Isn’t it strange how every river has a bank, and every bank is different? it’s like people. everyone is different, the inner contents might be the same, the water flows downward, people are flesh and blood, but the outward appearance, the banks of the river, are always different.
Emily
the river went serpenting through the valley for miles. when suddenly it opened wide and broad.
Can we talk about ‘Banksy’? I’m not sure I want to discuss banks. I work for one. In a call centre. There is a job to drain your soul. Money is a dirty business. Talking about it is filthy. I dream of a day where I am not taking calls…
Lots of banks have been robbed. My bank in particular gets robbed pretty often and I feel sorry for the girls who work there. I mean you know they get paid crap and their life is at risk pretty much every day.
you save up your money for what seems like ever. you told them your dreams and they just left you. you were on your own; alone. but you knew that one day you would show them you would make it. your dreams would carry you around the world. and you’d be the one leaving them.
Amanda
i never thought much about banks.. i guess they’re sort of sad and boring, i mean i would never want to work in one. unless it played good music and the people there were funny. then i would. but you go there to get money and money is good, that is if you have enough of it. but not too much. just enough. and i think the bank helps balance that. so yeah theyre good!
Portia Baudisch
they steal money! Well, people steal money from them. You know, my grandpa works at a bank. It’s called Vinings. They have nice people. My mom used to work at a bank to. They had these really cool glass stones for windows. They gave me suckers (:
Ruthie
Banks have money in them. People like money. People spend their money on useless things, like over-priced clothing, unhealthy food and stuff they will probably never use more than once. Money is so abused.
Banks of a river flow forward rather than backward. They stream upon an empty soul, forgiving the pebbles in dust. The bank rolls after the quiet semblance of something once remembered, but forgotten in the instant it predicts the splashing’s of its father.
I sit on the river bank and watch you all. You flow downstream or try to fight the current, eroding away at the edges. You fight and scream and realize that gravity will always win, but you still fightfightfight. And i’m just sitting here, laughing, considering the
stupidity; why not climb out, be free, and pave your own way? It’s not just sink or swim, it’s run or walk or fly or roll as well. Take your pick.
river banks – that’s pretty, makes you think about nature and picnic and sunshine and little ducks swimming with mummy duck. cute.
tyra banks- supermodels and FIERCE! SMILE WITH YOUR EYES. pressure pressure pressure to look good.
banks – the ones who ‘look after’ our money. cunts.
coops
You put money in the bank. Banks can go bankrupt. Banks hold lots of money. if you put money in the bank you get interest. Banks are cool!!! yay for banks! Banks have tellers.
Gerferty
Banks are locations where money is stored and stolen. Not stolen by any bank robber, but stolen by the bankers themselves. Every cent you put into the bank is then taken from you and invested, turned into billions and sarcastically handed back to you. Don’t put your faith in the bankers…they’ll kill you…and your little dog too!
Derrick
banks give people money. people need money to live. without money people can’t survive. people need money to buy the things they need to live like food. Banks are the source of money.
Money. This is the thing that is making all us insane. A little piece of paper playing with our heads.
banks are places that you go to get money when you are broke. It is also the side of a river or beach. Basically, banks save your life. Whether you are super- emotional, or in need of money desperately!
Banks are where people store their dreams, they hope to save enough for that future thing that elusive hope. Meanwhile undreaming they work to fill the bank that never dreams.
loaded word
Man I hate my bank. Recently, I went online to sign into my account… You know, to check if I had any money left. Typed in my password… DENIED. Typed it in again… WRONG PASSWORD. TRY AGAIN. I did. Same thing happened… Me: “Stupid online bank! You think you know MY PASSWORD!?!?!?!”
Banks is a word that most people think has two or three meaning. One meaning could be the plural for bank, a place where money is stored. The second meaning is banks, as in the banks of a river. The last meaning could be banks as in a slang term for a perfect basket in basketball.
Banks are somewhat depressing. They remind you of all the money you don’t have. The money you wish you had. The money other people have and have enjoyed for potentially all their lives while you have been left with little. But banks also can remind you that you have something. It could be worse. Much worse.
Banks hold your money. They also do trust funds, loans, stuff with cash and everything else money related. They do other things like buy and sell things to try and make a profit. This way everyone will make a profit and the people are cheated upon and then everyone is soooo happy that they got stuff.
A bank is a place where you invest your money, but when you think about it, so is life. You choose where your money, goes where it’s spent, who you spend it on. Just like life, you choose where you go, who you spend it with, what you spend your time doing. So choose your banks carefully.
iain, being a british author. russell, being an american novelist. tyra, being a black supermodel. piggy, being a coin keeper. being inside turns. being basketball shots. being what a pool ball does before it pockets.
Once upon a time there was a man named Banks. Everyone thought that it was strange to call your son that, so he was picked on a lot. He didn’t really care, and made the best he could out of his life, by becoming a professional well written banker.
i think there are different types of banks. the one i have is wells fargo and the one my mom has is bank of america and my dad has chase. I dont like chace i think it’s a bad bank what i think i think a lot about the inside with desks and people dressed up and a waiting line, the shiny floor and the big roofs and the nice people who want to help you.
A bank or a prison? Money or politics? Where does the word come from? In the end it is a prison for money and the bank will control a part of politics.
The man jumped in from the open ledge on the roof, eager to get his hands on some cash. He quietly opened the vault door, which had been unlocked since 1981. He grabbed as much money as he could handle and stuffed it into his burlap sack. Something told him they were coming. He jumped back through the roof, leaving no trace of himself.
ugh i hate banks and money, i wish people would get everything they need for free, but not what they want. only needs for free. we would have a better world without banks and money then. li,fe is hard.
Banks line the street I walk to on my way to class Monday mornings. It is a near daily reminder of how marterial we all are. Do we need to have three banks on one street corner? Wouldn’t one be enough?
I am always terrified to go to the bank. I feel lost as soon as I walk in the door. Even if I am making a simple deposit, which I have done many times, I just feel as if all of my senses go out the door and I loose all competency.
The banks of life make me stay, stand, not move.
I stand, idly, waiting for tomorrow, but knowing it might never come.
But I will wait, I will wait, I will wait
Until tomorrow, the next day, whenever.
Banks, something that is meant to keep money safe but is offend robbed because of it.
He leans forward, left hand making a visor over his eyes. From the sunshine.
Squinting, he presses the number on the keypad. Again. He leans his forehead against the brick wall above the console.
He lets out a sigh. Card withheld again.
‘Banks!’ he mutters, before marching by the lady in the queue behind him.
Fish swim up the watery banks feeding on the plant life growing on the pebbles. They nibble every last bite off the rocks till they are pleasantly stuffed.
I hate banks. The people there have no emotion. My brother, he’s 19, went to the bank yesterday to try to talk to them, but to no avail. They won’t relent. It doesn’t matter to them that our mother is sick and our father is dead, they don’t care. Rent is due tomorrow and if we don’t somehow come up with the money by then, we’re evicted.
Griffin was used to the smell of money in the air. He had worked for ten years on the floors of the biggest banks on Wall Street. Olivia Winthrop was not able to intimidate him with her diamonds from Bond Street and hair from Bel Air.
I sat on the high banks of a stream, the current lazily twisting here and there. A frog plopped into the water, startled by my roaming hand, which was softly stroking a daisy nearby. My feet hung off the bank, allowing my toes to make small ripples in the water.The wind gently teased my hair until I had a halo of frizzies, and went on to softly caress my face. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, and I ripped the daisy out of the ground, dirt still clinging hopelessly to the daisy’s roots. The wind slapped my face, the water drowned my feet, and the frog emerged to the surface, dead.
They went to the bank that sultry morning in july and withdrew all their money. All 2300 dollars, they needed it, wanted it, loved it, rebelled in it. Why? Why, the money that they had saved and saved through out time and space and relative dimensions. Because death was coming.
Jason and Emily stood near the banks of the river where they used to play as children. He bends over and his fingers fold around a round, flat rock. He straightens his back and, after giving Emily a wink, whips his wrist so that the rock starts skipping over the water.
1, 2, 3, 4.
It sinks into the river. Emily walks over to him and picks up her own rock. She throws the rock on the water competitively.
1, 2, 3, 4.
And it too sinks.
Isn’t it strange how every river has a bank, and every bank is different? it’s like people. everyone is different, the inner contents might be the same, the water flows downward, people are flesh and blood, but the outward appearance, the banks of the river, are always different.
the river went serpenting through the valley for miles. when suddenly it opened wide and broad.
Can we talk about ‘Banksy’? I’m not sure I want to discuss banks. I work for one. In a call centre. There is a job to drain your soul. Money is a dirty business. Talking about it is filthy. I dream of a day where I am not taking calls…
Lots of banks have been robbed. My bank in particular gets robbed pretty often and I feel sorry for the girls who work there. I mean you know they get paid crap and their life is at risk pretty much every day.
you save up your money for what seems like ever. you told them your dreams and they just left you. you were on your own; alone. but you knew that one day you would show them you would make it. your dreams would carry you around the world. and you’d be the one leaving them.
i never thought much about banks.. i guess they’re sort of sad and boring, i mean i would never want to work in one. unless it played good music and the people there were funny. then i would. but you go there to get money and money is good, that is if you have enough of it. but not too much. just enough. and i think the bank helps balance that. so yeah theyre good!
they steal money! Well, people steal money from them. You know, my grandpa works at a bank. It’s called Vinings. They have nice people. My mom used to work at a bank to. They had these really cool glass stones for windows. They gave me suckers (:
Banks have money in them. People like money. People spend their money on useless things, like over-priced clothing, unhealthy food and stuff they will probably never use more than once. Money is so abused.
Banks of a river flow forward rather than backward. They stream upon an empty soul, forgiving the pebbles in dust. The bank rolls after the quiet semblance of something once remembered, but forgotten in the instant it predicts the splashing’s of its father.
I sit on the river bank and watch you all. You flow downstream or try to fight the current, eroding away at the edges. You fight and scream and realize that gravity will always win, but you still fightfightfight. And i’m just sitting here, laughing, considering the
stupidity; why not climb out, be free, and pave your own way? It’s not just sink or swim, it’s run or walk or fly or roll as well. Take your pick.
river banks – that’s pretty, makes you think about nature and picnic and sunshine and little ducks swimming with mummy duck. cute.
tyra banks- supermodels and FIERCE! SMILE WITH YOUR EYES. pressure pressure pressure to look good.
banks – the ones who ‘look after’ our money. cunts.
You put money in the bank. Banks can go bankrupt. Banks hold lots of money. if you put money in the bank you get interest. Banks are cool!!! yay for banks! Banks have tellers.
Banks are locations where money is stored and stolen. Not stolen by any bank robber, but stolen by the bankers themselves. Every cent you put into the bank is then taken from you and invested, turned into billions and sarcastically handed back to you. Don’t put your faith in the bankers…they’ll kill you…and your little dog too!
banks give people money. people need money to live. without money people can’t survive. people need money to buy the things they need to live like food. Banks are the source of money.