I had the idea, the bulb, the spark, the thought. I knew i could achieve this accomplishment if only the bulb would shine some more. i knew it would be the end but what a dream the bulb was in the end.
i saw this bulb that stands alone. unknown as to why it’s there, it has a means it has a way, it has no idea where or when to stay. it needs to move and move it shall though the time is unknown still. if ever it is found by the slightest of
jessica
The bulb shined bright in my room so much so that i thought that I was in a dream world, I had always wondered what the world would be like if the bulb had reached their windows. I had dreamed of achieving the goal of ultimate stardom by selling bulbs but I had no way to do it.
keino
It’s made by some weird dude with a bad hairstyle that gives me the creeps. Who the heck invented something so weird-looking, anyway? Bulb! wait, a bulb also means that seed thingy of a plant, but the best thing about a bulb is that it gives the name to BULBASAUR!! :D :D :D :D :D lol. That was weird. :3
Imika
That bulb.
it flickered constantly, and today was no exception.
I wondered when they would fix it.
Seriously, how many people does it take to change one rotten lightbulb?
Ana
The bulb stood, being as it was, at the edge of its world that was about to end. It thought about its accomplishments, and about the nature of being and having been a bulb. These thoughts went rapidly by, before it joined the light and shattered.
Max
The first light bulb filament successfully tested was a cotton filament. Edison and his assistants stayed up for more than 24 hours just staring at it, it was a miracle to them.
So a light bulb goes off in my head. “I have an idea, I think!” I tell you excitedly. “Let’s get married.”
“A bit early for that isn’t it, dear? It’s only the first week.)
Elizabeth
Green, yellow, white, light flowing in through the branches of the trees. A magical garden. Underneath the dirt, just beginning to stir was a small bulb. A lonely single iris set aside from all the others. But not alone.
I don’t know what to write about a bulb. I think of Bulbasaur. It reminds me of that time I gave Nathan Durazo all of my Pokemon cards, and I never thought I’d want them back so badly. Why did I even like Nathan Durazo, anyway? He was a dick. I was desperate, I guess.
kyra
Bulb: a flowerbulb, a new beginning. A freshstart. A lightbulb.
a new idea. I fresh outlook. A light in this dark tunnel.
The bulb is dense and heavy, a waiting yellow fruit. It looms solemn and solitary like a low hanging sun, seeming to fill the night air with it’s hot, ripe form.
I sit beneath it’s lamp tree and write, querilous of the clouds passing through the walls like thoughts drifting out to sea
Light bulbs are really fucking annoying, because they always seem to go out when I’m alone and when it’s dark, which leaves me scared, in the dark, and incapable of changing the bulb because I can’t fucking see a damn thing.
Ralph
Bing.
A pinprick of intelligence. A flicker of understanding in a sea of ignorance. Can he finally see? Will he now comprehend everything that has been said, inferred, intended?
A rushing wind, a growing swell, the light blossoms, flashes-
Then it is gone. A burning filament with just a memory of smoke to mark its passing.
Caleb
light bulb.
flower bulb.
i can’t think of any more words with bulb. but both of the above make me think of life. which is thriving. and glowing. and something i need to be more a part of.
Calla lilies! My favorite flowers, besides daisies. Or a light-bulb when a brilliant idea is beheld! I love brilliant ideas, however mine usually do not fall in this category. I would love some flowers and bright ideas right about now though. Thanks.
Like light bulbs? Mine went out and I had to scour the cluttered basement to find a 60-watt. Or the plants? Like tulips and stuff? Those are pretty, but really hard to grow. I’d much rather just mow a lawn.
Jazz
I see a bulb in front of me. It was sliced ruthlessly to provide food. It made the slaughterers cry, but it must be done for survival.
I have an idea! she said to him. It’ll be great. We can do everything we’ve ever wanted once we make money off this amazing idea! Let’s discuss it over coffee. Those were the last text messages she ever sent him. He wished she had never texted while driving. An idea is a terrible thing to waste.
Chloe
cracked and flickering, it hangs, solitary, from a twisted cord in the centre of the ceiling. Casts a cold glare over him, that shadows his face like death in the reflection in the mirror.
h
The light bulb is one of the greatest inventions ever. Without it we wouldn’t be able to see as well the beauties of the world. Light cascades from it’s enclosed power.
Olivia
I love the way a light bulb looks. So sweet and soft. Sometimes a calming glow, others it’s a harsh bright light. It can be broken, it can be fixed.Use it to make a dream. Use it to break one. Make it a symbol for love or hate. It’s a light so simple, it can be anything.
i was having a short nap and the bulb went off. Woke me straight from a sleep so solid, i woke in the same position I fell asleep. I knew it know. I knew what was to be done. It was probably foolish, but what else could I do? What else could I try aside from this crazy, half dream of an idea.
Tyng
cracked and flickering, it hangs, solitary, from a twisted cord in the centre of the ceiling. Casts a cold glare over him that shadows his face like death in the reflection he sees in the mirror.
h
the bulb blink on and off in the dark room, a loud buzzing noise accompanied by the sound of a few zaps as moths dart in too close, and then, boom- charred. the room has a yellow glow, the sort that feels so unnatural because there’s not enough blueredgreenwhiteblack.
Jenna
The bulb glowed dully from the ceiling, illuminating the clutter around the room. It’s aura was dingy, a dirty remnant of better days. Though it provided valuable light, the inhabitants of the room almost wished it did not grace them with it’s presence.
Sarah
I can’t see; I just looked up at the bare bulbs in the ceiling fan. I try to blink the afterimage away, but it remains as stark-white against the black of my eyelids. My roommate laughs at me. “What did you expect, silly girl,” he asks jokingly.
“I dunno,” I reply with a smile. “I guess I forgot I wasn’t wearing sunglasses.”
a bulb brings up light or an idea. stretching farther than the horizons. a sun desperately trying to be seen is located far in the distance. stretching farther than the horizons, a bulb did all that.
The light bulb burned lightly in the small closet. The poor teenager was in the closet with a poor boy about as nervous as she was. They held hands and looked at each other. She let out a soft gasp as the boy leaned forward and kissed her.
A light bulb. A simple glowing thing that hangs in a room or lives inside the street lamp. It strives only to please. To entertain the girl who sits alone in it’s light and thinks. It’s a good friend. And a constant companion, if only more people understood.
Alina Rubalcaba
She threw the tulip bulb on the ground as she gave up. It was just too hot for gardening! She abandoned her shovel for a cool glass of lemonade and smiled contently.
One bulbous stomach. That’s our world, “Give me, give me, give me. Fill me up, and let me go. I’ll fill the world with the exhaust of my races. My races for things, and money, and material, and anything else that makes me happy.”
But what happens when the fuel tank runs out? Its empty. Empty and dry. A hollow nothing; longing for something more. And there’s only one thing to fill it full forever.
Everything alive once begins small. A flower is a bulb. A cat is a kitten. It’s the circle of life. The monsters that roam the earth were once innocent babies in a pink or blue blanket. Enjoy your bulb-hood. Bask in youth’s glory, and let it linger for as long as possible.
The bulb flickered and hummed. If you listened carefully, you would notice that the humming wasn’t constant, that it would change in pitch and duration. If you listened long enough, it would hint as some lost memory of a melody that you just couldn’t remember and you would spend the next several hours racking your mind what that melody was.
The flower bulb was small, delicate in my hand. I thought about its potential. My own potential. I threw the large seed down and looked to the side, closing my eyes. What potential?
Jess
The light bulb above her flickered and threw the room into a static fit of light. She could feel the mattress below her was damp with her own sweat and blood. Her wrists stung from the chaffing rope that bound her to the wrought iron bed. Every movement induced fresh pain. She had stopped trying to escape hours ago.
I had the idea, the bulb, the spark, the thought. I knew i could achieve this accomplishment if only the bulb would shine some more. i knew it would be the end but what a dream the bulb was in the end.
i saw this bulb that stands alone. unknown as to why it’s there, it has a means it has a way, it has no idea where or when to stay. it needs to move and move it shall though the time is unknown still. if ever it is found by the slightest of
The bulb shined bright in my room so much so that i thought that I was in a dream world, I had always wondered what the world would be like if the bulb had reached their windows. I had dreamed of achieving the goal of ultimate stardom by selling bulbs but I had no way to do it.
It’s made by some weird dude with a bad hairstyle that gives me the creeps. Who the heck invented something so weird-looking, anyway? Bulb! wait, a bulb also means that seed thingy of a plant, but the best thing about a bulb is that it gives the name to BULBASAUR!! :D :D :D :D :D lol. That was weird. :3
That bulb.
it flickered constantly, and today was no exception.
I wondered when they would fix it.
Seriously, how many people does it take to change one rotten lightbulb?
The bulb stood, being as it was, at the edge of its world that was about to end. It thought about its accomplishments, and about the nature of being and having been a bulb. These thoughts went rapidly by, before it joined the light and shattered.
The first light bulb filament successfully tested was a cotton filament. Edison and his assistants stayed up for more than 24 hours just staring at it, it was a miracle to them.
Lights and flowers, ideas.
So a light bulb goes off in my head. “I have an idea, I think!” I tell you excitedly. “Let’s get married.”
“A bit early for that isn’t it, dear? It’s only the first week.)
Green, yellow, white, light flowing in through the branches of the trees. A magical garden. Underneath the dirt, just beginning to stir was a small bulb. A lonely single iris set aside from all the others. But not alone.
njhvgvghjhjhgjhh
uyguy
uyguyg
yjhgh
hfgkgkl
I don’t know what to write about a bulb. I think of Bulbasaur. It reminds me of that time I gave Nathan Durazo all of my Pokemon cards, and I never thought I’d want them back so badly. Why did I even like Nathan Durazo, anyway? He was a dick. I was desperate, I guess.
Bulb: a flowerbulb, a new beginning. A freshstart. A lightbulb.
a new idea. I fresh outlook. A light in this dark tunnel.
I spent all yesterday tearing bulbs apart, that’s just really a word I don’t want to write about today.
The bulb is dense and heavy, a waiting yellow fruit. It looms solemn and solitary like a low hanging sun, seeming to fill the night air with it’s hot, ripe form.
I sit beneath it’s lamp tree and write, querilous of the clouds passing through the walls like thoughts drifting out to sea
Light bulbs are really fucking annoying, because they always seem to go out when I’m alone and when it’s dark, which leaves me scared, in the dark, and incapable of changing the bulb because I can’t fucking see a damn thing.
Bing.
A pinprick of intelligence. A flicker of understanding in a sea of ignorance. Can he finally see? Will he now comprehend everything that has been said, inferred, intended?
A rushing wind, a growing swell, the light blossoms, flashes-
Then it is gone. A burning filament with just a memory of smoke to mark its passing.
light bulb.
flower bulb.
i can’t think of any more words with bulb. but both of the above make me think of life. which is thriving. and glowing. and something i need to be more a part of.
Calla lilies! My favorite flowers, besides daisies. Or a light-bulb when a brilliant idea is beheld! I love brilliant ideas, however mine usually do not fall in this category. I would love some flowers and bright ideas right about now though. Thanks.
noirceur de brodeur
Like light bulbs? Mine went out and I had to scour the cluttered basement to find a 60-watt. Or the plants? Like tulips and stuff? Those are pretty, but really hard to grow. I’d much rather just mow a lawn.
I see a bulb in front of me. It was sliced ruthlessly to provide food. It made the slaughterers cry, but it must be done for survival.
I have an idea! she said to him. It’ll be great. We can do everything we’ve ever wanted once we make money off this amazing idea! Let’s discuss it over coffee. Those were the last text messages she ever sent him. He wished she had never texted while driving. An idea is a terrible thing to waste.
cracked and flickering, it hangs, solitary, from a twisted cord in the centre of the ceiling. Casts a cold glare over him, that shadows his face like death in the reflection in the mirror.
The light bulb is one of the greatest inventions ever. Without it we wouldn’t be able to see as well the beauties of the world. Light cascades from it’s enclosed power.
I love the way a light bulb looks. So sweet and soft. Sometimes a calming glow, others it’s a harsh bright light. It can be broken, it can be fixed.Use it to make a dream. Use it to break one. Make it a symbol for love or hate. It’s a light so simple, it can be anything.
i was having a short nap and the bulb went off. Woke me straight from a sleep so solid, i woke in the same position I fell asleep. I knew it know. I knew what was to be done. It was probably foolish, but what else could I do? What else could I try aside from this crazy, half dream of an idea.
cracked and flickering, it hangs, solitary, from a twisted cord in the centre of the ceiling. Casts a cold glare over him that shadows his face like death in the reflection he sees in the mirror.
the bulb blink on and off in the dark room, a loud buzzing noise accompanied by the sound of a few zaps as moths dart in too close, and then, boom- charred. the room has a yellow glow, the sort that feels so unnatural because there’s not enough blueredgreenwhiteblack.
The bulb glowed dully from the ceiling, illuminating the clutter around the room. It’s aura was dingy, a dirty remnant of better days. Though it provided valuable light, the inhabitants of the room almost wished it did not grace them with it’s presence.
I can’t see; I just looked up at the bare bulbs in the ceiling fan. I try to blink the afterimage away, but it remains as stark-white against the black of my eyelids. My roommate laughs at me. “What did you expect, silly girl,” he asks jokingly.
“I dunno,” I reply with a smile. “I guess I forgot I wasn’t wearing sunglasses.”
a bulb brings up light or an idea. stretching farther than the horizons. a sun desperately trying to be seen is located far in the distance. stretching farther than the horizons, a bulb did all that.
The light bulb burned lightly in the small closet. The poor teenager was in the closet with a poor boy about as nervous as she was. They held hands and looked at each other. She let out a soft gasp as the boy leaned forward and kissed her.
A light bulb. A simple glowing thing that hangs in a room or lives inside the street lamp. It strives only to please. To entertain the girl who sits alone in it’s light and thinks. It’s a good friend. And a constant companion, if only more people understood.
She threw the tulip bulb on the ground as she gave up. It was just too hot for gardening! She abandoned her shovel for a cool glass of lemonade and smiled contently.
One bulbous stomach. That’s our world, “Give me, give me, give me. Fill me up, and let me go. I’ll fill the world with the exhaust of my races. My races for things, and money, and material, and anything else that makes me happy.”
But what happens when the fuel tank runs out? Its empty. Empty and dry. A hollow nothing; longing for something more. And there’s only one thing to fill it full forever.
Everything alive once begins small. A flower is a bulb. A cat is a kitten. It’s the circle of life. The monsters that roam the earth were once innocent babies in a pink or blue blanket. Enjoy your bulb-hood. Bask in youth’s glory, and let it linger for as long as possible.
The bulb flickered and hummed. If you listened carefully, you would notice that the humming wasn’t constant, that it would change in pitch and duration. If you listened long enough, it would hint as some lost memory of a melody that you just couldn’t remember and you would spend the next several hours racking your mind what that melody was.
The flower bulb was small, delicate in my hand. I thought about its potential. My own potential. I threw the large seed down and looked to the side, closing my eyes. What potential?
The light bulb above her flickered and threw the room into a static fit of light. She could feel the mattress below her was damp with her own sweat and blood. Her wrists stung from the chaffing rope that bound her to the wrought iron bed. Every movement induced fresh pain. She had stopped trying to escape hours ago.