Pits. Pits come in many forms. There are arm pits and pits similar to holes. Arm pits are smelly, pits are deep, and ‘the pits’ means its the worst. We have so many meanings for one word. One could say that life is full of pits and highs.
Hannah Maher
first things that popped into my head was arm pits. they smell so bad but good thing there’s deodorant, which is actually one of the hardest things to keep track of, i want to smoke a blunt with the one i yearn for tomorrow but who knows how likely that will happen. i think aly might be mad at me or things might be different but we’ll see how that turns out tomorrow too
no name
i don’t really know where i am anymore, no
i’ve fallen, yes
and i cant seem to get up, can i
the atmosphere is dark, asphyxiating
i’ve tumbled too deep this time, pits
taylor
Pits are useless. Why do we have arm pits? And is it possible for an arm pit to be like a volcanic pit? Write a novel about that. ;] Good luck.
Jake
Pits..ARM. Pits. Smelly armpits. Sweat stains. Working out. Running. Bench pressing. Oooh I’m good at bench pressing. I can bench press like 80 pounds. How super amazing is that. It is sper amazing. be jealous. And don’t get sweat stains.
The pits. When I’m down in the pits, I’m feeling down, feeling pitiful. Nothing feels better than spittin’ the pit. Nobody wants anything to do with pits; armpits, seed pits, gravel pits. What about sand pits? A bit like a sand box. Play tonka truck.
April
pits makes me think of cherries. Here in Upstate NY it is cherry season again which is a wonderful time of the year. Last year I made sour cherry preserves which were so good but 1 or 2 pits did make it through.
cherith
deep dark pits surround my being, enclosing upon my soul, and crushing my very essence. my existence is only evident in this pit. my grave.
Amelia
Olive pits cluttered the table , after the two of them chatted that afternoon.
Arm pits, road pits either way they’re bad, sixty seconds to write about this , this is not good its so sad.. its almost impossible all i can really say is i hate pits, any kind really, i think they’re bad luck and have bad smell and ruin your car and do all kinds of bad karma clasified stuff.
I found that I was overwhelmed when I was in his presence. His soft green eyes glistened in the moon light and I felt that I was falling into the pits of desire. “Do you trust me?” he asked. “More then anything.” I said taking his hand as we took the plunge into something that would change my life forever.
“Wow. Even in the early morning the man i wake up next to everyday smells terrific. He will never fail to amaze me as to how every inch of his body smelt engaging; even his arm pits.”
tab
This makes me think about armpits for some reason? haha. Or pits of despair. I used to get made fun of in middle school for writing sad or depressing stories all the time. I guess armpits wouldve been a better thing to focus on. AHH I NEED MORE TIME TO WRITE. I guess that forces you to be more creative though.
No matter how for you go, you can never get lost in the deepest pits of your reality. Dreams can come true no matter what goes on in your life. Just never forget to keep living your life and never give up!
Rachel
well this reminds me of waxing my pits and how i should do that sometime soon again especially since swimsuit season is here and its summer and stuff. it also reminds me that theres that one commercial of pita chips so I’m kinda hungry…
Mariela
Pits of watermelon spit by children on the asphalt… after running through the fire hydrant on a hot summer day.
I felt around in the gravel. It was stupid to try to find the contact lens at this point. But it was expensive. Those contacts represented more than just eyesight to me. They represented freedom. Having astigmatism all my life, and then finally getting to ditch the glasses, was all the difference between being alive and being half-dead.
they smell, and they sweat. they are also in the middle of certain fruits. when i get to the middle of a nectarine, they get in the way and end up hurting my teeth. they taste awful (both kinds). i really don’t like them much. it really is an unpleasant word…
Lexi
Pits dug deep in the sands of the Sahara desert stretched for miles on end. Not only were they riddling the landscape, they reflected their image upon the meager water supply.
Victoria
I hate when I eat cherries with pits in them or olives in them. Actually I take that back I don’t mind the pits what I really hate is not knowing they are there and taking a huge crunch into something that is supposed to be soft and squishy, not damage my teeth.
Michelle Hendryx
pits, they are like arm pits or falling down a pit of darkness, it’s a bit depressing, either you smell or you’re depressed in black.
kyra
haha arm pits, they aren’t pits you get stuck in, they’re inverted. should you fall into one it will promptly kick you out as if to say, no you cant’ stay and wallow, you must move on, nothing to see here.
kelbear10
From the pits, she rose. Without the fear of rejection, she was the most amazing thing that I have ever seen. I just wanted to go ever there and shake her hand, yet something stopped me in my tracks…
Audrey Ward
John opened his drawer every day. One folded-up paper wastebasket sat in the corner. He had carried a bunch of them to college, a whole stack of folded-up paper wastebaskets in an unfolded paper wastebasket. “Take them, take them,” his mom had said, because their house was exploding with them, from the months where his grandparents visited. His grandpa folded them in his spare time, out of magazines redeemed with airline rewards. “Don’t bother,” Mom said, “You’ve given me a hundred of those already.” But Grandpa simply said, “Folding is a kind of enjoyment.” Grandpa liked cherries, used them to put the pits he spit out, but he folded ten for every one he used.
There was only one left now, and Grandpa had passed away, leaving Grandma all alone. She didn’t fold origami anymore, or sing, though she still did her own laundry with an efficiency bred over fifty years. He tried to think of other mementos Grandpa had left him, but couldn’t. He had just this wastebasket left. He wanted it to move slightly, maybe flutter a bit, give a sign like those “From the other side” books told you to watch out for. But it didn’t happen. Wherever Grandpa was, he was probably too absorbed in what he was doing to send messages, some other-side equivalent of repetitive folding.
We were calmly driving through the hillside when BAM! the car flipped over from the pothole and thats when it started. I was back there, in the pits. Stank. Deep. Horrible, bloody walls and bones for doorknobs. I could smelll my own waste.
Arm pits forest pits or fire pits there are many different types of pits. I have no idea why arm pits are called that because honestly they really aren’t pits they are more shallow scoops underyoour arm.
The pits were full of them. Full of pieces. Of glass. Of frames. Of homes. Of everything imaginable. And I couldn’t help. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t save anyone’s life by emptying those pits.
“Relax, Andrew,” I murmured. “Just another hour and then we can head home.”
“I don’t know why we have to do this. I mean, just because Daniel told us to doesn’t mean – ”
“I know, but just…do this for a friend, okay?”
I readjusted my binoculars as Andrew kept his crouched position behind the juniper. Sarah was leaving the restaurant soon. With who, we didn’t know yet.
Belinda Roddie
deep down.
falling falling
Help
Anyone
a friend like a rope
assistance to rise
cannot alone
need someone
don’t want to fall
Robyn Lostheart
“This is the pits.”
“Relax, Andrew,” I murmured. “Just another hour and then we can head home.”
“I don’t know why we have to do this. I mean, just because Daniel told us to doesn’t mean – ”
“I know, but just…do this for a friend, okay?”
I readjusted my binoculars as Andrew kept his crouched position behind the juniper. Sally was leaving the restaurant soon. With who, we didn’t know yet.
Belinda Roddie
Armpits, beautiful armpit hair on beautiful boys and girls who don’t shave.
That actor cutting off his arm in that movie where he gets stuck in a cave.
This is the pits. Literally. We stood eleven feet deep in pits dug with bare hands, and the pit still wasn’t deep enough. It’s one thing when your dad is an evil villain genius and wants to take over the world. It’s entirely another when you skip school once to hang out with a girl and that dad decides to punish you by digging without inventions.
Shelly Tiasons
Pits. He slowly emerged from the cave, carefully picking his steps. Unfortunately, He’s meant to die cuz… he fell into a pit. the end.
You had nice smelly arm pits that opened up and were still creased and glistening from a hard days work in the field. The field of business folk that is. The pits were hairless but the comparison to peaches could only be so in size. Gotta lurve it.
Janemom
the very center of a feeling, dropping down into a vortex, solid, sometimes giving birth to a new life or experience
wendy
Most would call her foolish as she picked her way across a battle field littered with deep pits. Bards would call her a hero. But in her eyes, in her mind, she was simply a mother searching for her children. And nothing would stop her. And there’s was not a thing she wouldn’t do to save them. Even murder.
Heza
Today i realized that I either need new deodorant or body wash cause my pits just don’t smell like they used to. And I mean this in the worst way possible. I confronted my mother about it and she wasn’t much help. Apparently she wants me to suffer greatly in my social life because who wants to hang out with a smelly girl?
Dylan Fairweather
Wow. They stank. It was as if a pizza van had been left for 3 weeks in the outback and then the doors abruptly opened. His singlet was soaked with grease and sweat.
Pits. Pits come in many forms. There are arm pits and pits similar to holes. Arm pits are smelly, pits are deep, and ‘the pits’ means its the worst. We have so many meanings for one word. One could say that life is full of pits and highs.
first things that popped into my head was arm pits. they smell so bad but good thing there’s deodorant, which is actually one of the hardest things to keep track of, i want to smoke a blunt with the one i yearn for tomorrow but who knows how likely that will happen. i think aly might be mad at me or things might be different but we’ll see how that turns out tomorrow too
i don’t really know where i am anymore, no
i’ve fallen, yes
and i cant seem to get up, can i
the atmosphere is dark, asphyxiating
i’ve tumbled too deep this time, pits
Pits are useless. Why do we have arm pits? And is it possible for an arm pit to be like a volcanic pit? Write a novel about that. ;] Good luck.
Pits..ARM. Pits. Smelly armpits. Sweat stains. Working out. Running. Bench pressing. Oooh I’m good at bench pressing. I can bench press like 80 pounds. How super amazing is that. It is sper amazing. be jealous. And don’t get sweat stains.
The pits. When I’m down in the pits, I’m feeling down, feeling pitiful. Nothing feels better than spittin’ the pit. Nobody wants anything to do with pits; armpits, seed pits, gravel pits. What about sand pits? A bit like a sand box. Play tonka truck.
pits makes me think of cherries. Here in Upstate NY it is cherry season again which is a wonderful time of the year. Last year I made sour cherry preserves which were so good but 1 or 2 pits did make it through.
deep dark pits surround my being, enclosing upon my soul, and crushing my very essence. my existence is only evident in this pit. my grave.
Olive pits cluttered the table , after the two of them chatted that afternoon.
Arm pits, road pits either way they’re bad, sixty seconds to write about this , this is not good its so sad.. its almost impossible all i can really say is i hate pits, any kind really, i think they’re bad luck and have bad smell and ruin your car and do all kinds of bad karma clasified stuff.
I found that I was overwhelmed when I was in his presence. His soft green eyes glistened in the moon light and I felt that I was falling into the pits of desire. “Do you trust me?” he asked. “More then anything.” I said taking his hand as we took the plunge into something that would change my life forever.
“Wow. Even in the early morning the man i wake up next to everyday smells terrific. He will never fail to amaze me as to how every inch of his body smelt engaging; even his arm pits.”
This makes me think about armpits for some reason? haha. Or pits of despair. I used to get made fun of in middle school for writing sad or depressing stories all the time. I guess armpits wouldve been a better thing to focus on. AHH I NEED MORE TIME TO WRITE. I guess that forces you to be more creative though.
No matter how for you go, you can never get lost in the deepest pits of your reality. Dreams can come true no matter what goes on in your life. Just never forget to keep living your life and never give up!
well this reminds me of waxing my pits and how i should do that sometime soon again especially since swimsuit season is here and its summer and stuff. it also reminds me that theres that one commercial of pita chips so I’m kinda hungry…
Pits of watermelon spit by children on the asphalt… after running through the fire hydrant on a hot summer day.
I felt around in the gravel. It was stupid to try to find the contact lens at this point. But it was expensive. Those contacts represented more than just eyesight to me. They represented freedom. Having astigmatism all my life, and then finally getting to ditch the glasses, was all the difference between being alive and being half-dead.
they smell, and they sweat. they are also in the middle of certain fruits. when i get to the middle of a nectarine, they get in the way and end up hurting my teeth. they taste awful (both kinds). i really don’t like them much. it really is an unpleasant word…
Pits dug deep in the sands of the Sahara desert stretched for miles on end. Not only were they riddling the landscape, they reflected their image upon the meager water supply.
I hate when I eat cherries with pits in them or olives in them. Actually I take that back I don’t mind the pits what I really hate is not knowing they are there and taking a huge crunch into something that is supposed to be soft and squishy, not damage my teeth.
pits, they are like arm pits or falling down a pit of darkness, it’s a bit depressing, either you smell or you’re depressed in black.
haha arm pits, they aren’t pits you get stuck in, they’re inverted. should you fall into one it will promptly kick you out as if to say, no you cant’ stay and wallow, you must move on, nothing to see here.
From the pits, she rose. Without the fear of rejection, she was the most amazing thing that I have ever seen. I just wanted to go ever there and shake her hand, yet something stopped me in my tracks…
John opened his drawer every day. One folded-up paper wastebasket sat in the corner. He had carried a bunch of them to college, a whole stack of folded-up paper wastebaskets in an unfolded paper wastebasket. “Take them, take them,” his mom had said, because their house was exploding with them, from the months where his grandparents visited. His grandpa folded them in his spare time, out of magazines redeemed with airline rewards. “Don’t bother,” Mom said, “You’ve given me a hundred of those already.” But Grandpa simply said, “Folding is a kind of enjoyment.” Grandpa liked cherries, used them to put the pits he spit out, but he folded ten for every one he used.
There was only one left now, and Grandpa had passed away, leaving Grandma all alone. She didn’t fold origami anymore, or sing, though she still did her own laundry with an efficiency bred over fifty years. He tried to think of other mementos Grandpa had left him, but couldn’t. He had just this wastebasket left. He wanted it to move slightly, maybe flutter a bit, give a sign like those “From the other side” books told you to watch out for. But it didn’t happen. Wherever Grandpa was, he was probably too absorbed in what he was doing to send messages, some other-side equivalent of repetitive folding.
We were calmly driving through the hillside when BAM! the car flipped over from the pothole and thats when it started. I was back there, in the pits. Stank. Deep. Horrible, bloody walls and bones for doorknobs. I could smelll my own waste.
Arm pits forest pits or fire pits there are many different types of pits. I have no idea why arm pits are called that because honestly they really aren’t pits they are more shallow scoops underyoour arm.
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Pits don’t usually eat peaches. however veggies have caught them in a few akward situations over the years.
The pits were full of them. Full of pieces. Of glass. Of frames. Of homes. Of everything imaginable. And I couldn’t help. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t save anyone’s life by emptying those pits.
“This is the pits.”
“Relax, Andrew,” I murmured. “Just another hour and then we can head home.”
“I don’t know why we have to do this. I mean, just because Daniel told us to doesn’t mean – ”
“I know, but just…do this for a friend, okay?”
I readjusted my binoculars as Andrew kept his crouched position behind the juniper. Sarah was leaving the restaurant soon. With who, we didn’t know yet.
deep down.
falling falling
Help
Anyone
a friend like a rope
assistance to rise
cannot alone
need someone
don’t want to fall
“This is the pits.”
“Relax, Andrew,” I murmured. “Just another hour and then we can head home.”
“I don’t know why we have to do this. I mean, just because Daniel told us to doesn’t mean – ”
“I know, but just…do this for a friend, okay?”
I readjusted my binoculars as Andrew kept his crouched position behind the juniper. Sally was leaving the restaurant soon. With who, we didn’t know yet.
Armpits, beautiful armpit hair on beautiful boys and girls who don’t shave.
That actor cutting off his arm in that movie where he gets stuck in a cave.
This is the pits. Literally. We stood eleven feet deep in pits dug with bare hands, and the pit still wasn’t deep enough. It’s one thing when your dad is an evil villain genius and wants to take over the world. It’s entirely another when you skip school once to hang out with a girl and that dad decides to punish you by digging without inventions.
Pits. He slowly emerged from the cave, carefully picking his steps. Unfortunately, He’s meant to die cuz… he fell into a pit. the end.
You had nice smelly arm pits that opened up and were still creased and glistening from a hard days work in the field. The field of business folk that is. The pits were hairless but the comparison to peaches could only be so in size. Gotta lurve it.
the very center of a feeling, dropping down into a vortex, solid, sometimes giving birth to a new life or experience
Most would call her foolish as she picked her way across a battle field littered with deep pits. Bards would call her a hero. But in her eyes, in her mind, she was simply a mother searching for her children. And nothing would stop her. And there’s was not a thing she wouldn’t do to save them. Even murder.
Today i realized that I either need new deodorant or body wash cause my pits just don’t smell like they used to. And I mean this in the worst way possible. I confronted my mother about it and she wasn’t much help. Apparently she wants me to suffer greatly in my social life because who wants to hang out with a smelly girl?
Wow. They stank. It was as if a pizza van had been left for 3 weeks in the outback and then the doors abruptly opened. His singlet was soaked with grease and sweat.