She lived in apartment 101, and she curled up in a ball under the stairs, repeating “I hate her, I hate her,” when the fire alarm rang. She ran up the stairs and out of the building yelling for her mother. She didn’t find her.
is a lower room in houses and sometimes you go in it to stay away from tornados.plus sometimes they call it the man cave or as i would call it the girl cave lol.
A basement is a place under a house or any building. You can keep anything that you want to store in it. It is also a great place for playing hide and go seek. Yay!
I was was trapped in the basement for weeks. I could hear the dripping of water from the leaking pipes from the bathroom 2 floors up. It was an old house. Dank. Sad. Dark.
appropriately seated beneath the house the rooms birth themselves in quiet contemplation connected to the outside world through pipes and drains waiting for the runoff. run off.
I used to be so scared of the basement, I don’t know why. I was fine as long as I wasn’t alone down there…Of course later we moved my bedroom to the basement and I didn’t sleep for about a year.
It’s funny, now that I don’t have a basment, I really miss it. I have no fun places to hide for hide and seek anymore. I guess it’s a trade-off though, because I don’t have to worry about basement monsters anymore.
…Still worried about that monster under my bed though…
basements are funny places but also very horrible.. people get locked down there.. sometimes children. It is true! But it also creates wonderful things such as wine and cheese.. Not so sure why but I love cheese. Sometimes ghosts live in them.. but think thats normally in atticks.. how do you spell attick?
Going down. Down, down, down. The last shreds of humanity are leaving me. I should have listened to him. I’m facing my demons, but not by choice. Never by choice. They are coming for me.
Our basement just flooded two days ago. We have spent so much money and time redoing our basement in July and now here we are in January and we have to do it all over again. Oh, well, at least I won’t be bored anytime soon!
Sarah heard a noise coming from the basement. She hated being left home alone. Her stupid parents on business trips all the time. She grabed an umbrella from the rack and ventured downstairs, holding the umbrella defensively. At the bottom of the stairs she looked around the still basemnt. “SURPRISE” She screamed bloddy-murder, “HOLDEN, holy hell, you scared the shit out of me!” He laughed as she tried to regain a normal heartbeat “Sorry babe, I figured i could come over and with could hang out since your parents aren’t home.”
I was sitting alone in my basement, when I heard a peculiar sound. So I got up from my typewriter to inspect what it was. It was then I realised that was the sound of my lightbulb turning on.
in that place most of the fantastic things happen, we sing, we dance, we laugh, we make the neighbors mad, we are young and free, and can just be, just as i am being while writing about this word which has a definition, that for me… is little for how much this 8 letters contain.
In the basement in my house there has been many stories and people creating memories. there is a pool table we like to play with all the colorful balls. we always smoke cigars,and light up that green smoke. stay stoned,homie.
it was cold and wet
she was glad to be under a roof
so she had no reason to complain
but
where was she anyway
why had he insisted that she stay below the earth
in a dark basement all alone.
i once found a cat in my basement. It was red, with blue stripes. It was crawling around in some glowy, green stuff. And then it started crowing. I think something was wrong with it. We named it Feathers, but we had to get rid of it when it ate my grandma.
I really hate the word basement. It just conjures up images of Freddy Kruger or those movies where everyone flees to the basement. WHY WHY!!! the basement is the last fucking place you want to hide from an angry mentally challeged psycho with a chainsaw. SERIOUSLY. Or a murderous husband. why do ladies think it’s always a good idea to go escape to the basement. I would rather run through a field while he shoots at me… than hide in the dark cold basement. I just don’t understand the logic. AT ALL. Omg… this is the longest minute I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. It’s like I’m hiding in a basement.
As she walked into the basement she realized that all was not well. What had formerly been a white, cheerful wall was full of black, rotting mold. It was not entirely unexpected after the terrible flood.
Some of the best times I ever had were in my basement, playing with my brothers out of our parents’ sight. I dream about being back there, some days, knowing that the people who love me most were just a flight of stairs away.
In the basement, things happen. Sometimes good things, sometimes bad. Remember your first dance..in a basement..house party..people all around, feeling like you are on some grown woman shit, when actually you are still a child. I recall some interesting times in the basement. Some things I would much rather forget .Some people I really don’t remember. Some boys I prefer not to recall. Some names, I couldn’t recall if I wanted to. A lot of lost time happened in a basement. A lot of pain happened in the basement. I concieved a child in a basement..wish I could take back the experience of some of those basements. Not my child..just the experience. Why the basement? Secluded..a way from everyone..no one there..feeling like an adult in my own place..in the basement. Found myself in the basement, lost myself in a basement. Now, I want the basement in my new home, when I buy it, to be the most amazing place. I want my children to love the basement. To never fear the basement like I used to..I want a family to love one another in my basement and never know what I’ve experienced in basements of past.
I have never had a basement but when I think about having one it reminds me of goosebumps for some reason and all of those horrible movies you would never want to be a part of but for some reason I long to be a part of. It is a very american word but that might because it seems like a very american thing to have? Who knows? All I know is that I don’t have one and probably never will, actually I will.. cause i want to live in America.
our first place was a basement flat and was the first time we had a chance to plan and change things together. It was also the scene of some epic eating and drinking
ok I love basements its like the only thing I can sleep where ever I want or cry when ever I want these are reasons I love the basements today I live in tampa where you can’t have basements but somday I will live in a basement or maybe my mom can move and live in north carilina and then we can have a basement.
I am currently sitting in my basement in the middle of the florr very dicouraged because I just failed my math exam. I am eating cracker sand drinking tea though so that is okay. I’ve been very miserable this week and there is no apparent reason for it. some things just dont make snese in this world i’m sure you’d agreee with me. uhhhhh yaaayayayaayy wooooo wah wah we wahhhhh.
I wanted to live in one when I was younger. Maybe I sought a troglodyte existence. Today I am happy with light and air and space. It must be a security thing. I no longer need to curl up in the dark.
Mom and Dad’s basement, the cabinet down there, Eileen in a frilly dress, my dreams “afraid of time” woman from the backroom. The pleasure of recycling, cutting cardboard boxes, I keep my basement clean, dammit, all my drama saved for the dining room. I was terrified of their basement as a kid, the mess, the chaos, musty smell, the rooms we didn’t use, as if part of our world was unnecessary.
dark, deep and miserable. A cave of secrets waiting to be discovered, thrown out again and recycled for someone else to get upset about. Sometimes my basement terrifies me and I have to run, sweating, heart beating, back to the safety of my kitchen. No one else understands this. Our basement is light and modern.
I lived in a basement flat once, with a Nigerian woman who was finishing her PhD. She had such an infectious giggle – and was so proud the day she graduated. Oxford surprised with all her friends and relatives in traditional clothes, and me – in careful skirt and jacket!
Dark. Damp. Cold. I shiver between the washer and the wall. No one knows I’m here. It’s my secret spot. No one can hurt me. No one can touch me. I am immortal, yet at the same time, it’s like I’ve died. When I’m here, no one sees. No one knows. No one cares. NOt about me.
basement, a fantastic place for hermits, where they can hide away from the world and all it’s problems , all it’s bullies and other such knuckledragging people. But then they also hide away from all it’s brilliance and splendor. Everything that makes the human race beautiful.
That being said, I love basements. I really really do. Even damp ones. With rats.
I like rats.
dark so cold as night. its freezing in the basement. no sound.. alone. what was that sound. is it water running in from outside. I can’t see anything. I’m scared. try to find the light. I think its over there. Near the the stairs. Where? where I came in. Oh, I’m getting nauseous.
She lived in apartment 101, and she curled up in a ball under the stairs, repeating “I hate her, I hate her,” when the fire alarm rang. She ran up the stairs and out of the building yelling for her mother. She didn’t find her.
I have a basement. In basements you can store things or play in them. Basements are under houses. Lots of people have basements.
some houses have a basement.
is a lower room in houses and sometimes you go in it to stay away from tornados.plus sometimes they call it the man cave or as i would call it the girl cave lol.
a place under the house where u can go for dangeruse things
A basement is a place under a house or any building. You can keep anything that you want to store in it. It is also a great place for playing hide and go seek. Yay!
I was was trapped in the basement for weeks. I could hear the dripping of water from the leaking pipes from the bathroom 2 floors up. It was an old house. Dank. Sad. Dark.
appropriately seated beneath the house the rooms birth themselves in quiet contemplation connected to the outside world through pipes and drains waiting for the runoff. run off.
I used to be so scared of the basement, I don’t know why. I was fine as long as I wasn’t alone down there…Of course later we moved my bedroom to the basement and I didn’t sleep for about a year.
It’s funny, now that I don’t have a basment, I really miss it. I have no fun places to hide for hide and seek anymore. I guess it’s a trade-off though, because I don’t have to worry about basement monsters anymore.
…Still worried about that monster under my bed though…
basements are funny places but also very horrible.. people get locked down there.. sometimes children. It is true! But it also creates wonderful things such as wine and cheese.. Not so sure why but I love cheese. Sometimes ghosts live in them.. but think thats normally in atticks.. how do you spell attick?
Going down. Down, down, down. The last shreds of humanity are leaving me. I should have listened to him. I’m facing my demons, but not by choice. Never by choice. They are coming for me.
Our basement just flooded two days ago. We have spent so much money and time redoing our basement in July and now here we are in January and we have to do it all over again. Oh, well, at least I won’t be bored anytime soon!
Sarah heard a noise coming from the basement. She hated being left home alone. Her stupid parents on business trips all the time. She grabed an umbrella from the rack and ventured downstairs, holding the umbrella defensively. At the bottom of the stairs she looked around the still basemnt. “SURPRISE” She screamed bloddy-murder, “HOLDEN, holy hell, you scared the shit out of me!” He laughed as she tried to regain a normal heartbeat “Sorry babe, I figured i could come over and with could hang out since your parents aren’t home.”
I was sitting alone in my basement, when I heard a peculiar sound. So I got up from my typewriter to inspect what it was. It was then I realised that was the sound of my lightbulb turning on.
in that place most of the fantastic things happen, we sing, we dance, we laugh, we make the neighbors mad, we are young and free, and can just be, just as i am being while writing about this word which has a definition, that for me… is little for how much this 8 letters contain.
In the basement in my house there has been many stories and people creating memories. there is a pool table we like to play with all the colorful balls. we always smoke cigars,and light up that green smoke. stay stoned,homie.
it was cold and wet
she was glad to be under a roof
so she had no reason to complain
but
where was she anyway
why had he insisted that she stay below the earth
in a dark basement all alone.
i once found a cat in my basement. It was red, with blue stripes. It was crawling around in some glowy, green stuff. And then it started crowing. I think something was wrong with it. We named it Feathers, but we had to get rid of it when it ate my grandma.
I really hate the word basement. It just conjures up images of Freddy Kruger or those movies where everyone flees to the basement. WHY WHY!!! the basement is the last fucking place you want to hide from an angry mentally challeged psycho with a chainsaw. SERIOUSLY. Or a murderous husband. why do ladies think it’s always a good idea to go escape to the basement. I would rather run through a field while he shoots at me… than hide in the dark cold basement. I just don’t understand the logic. AT ALL. Omg… this is the longest minute I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. It’s like I’m hiding in a basement.
As she walked into the basement she realized that all was not well. What had formerly been a white, cheerful wall was full of black, rotting mold. It was not entirely unexpected after the terrible flood.
i already wrote about this word. So i hope that the next time i try to use oneword it would give me a different one. :D
greetings
love
hugs
Some of the best times I ever had were in my basement, playing with my brothers out of our parents’ sight. I dream about being back there, some days, knowing that the people who love me most were just a flight of stairs away.
In the basement, things happen. Sometimes good things, sometimes bad. Remember your first dance..in a basement..house party..people all around, feeling like you are on some grown woman shit, when actually you are still a child. I recall some interesting times in the basement. Some things I would much rather forget .Some people I really don’t remember. Some boys I prefer not to recall. Some names, I couldn’t recall if I wanted to. A lot of lost time happened in a basement. A lot of pain happened in the basement. I concieved a child in a basement..wish I could take back the experience of some of those basements. Not my child..just the experience. Why the basement? Secluded..a way from everyone..no one there..feeling like an adult in my own place..in the basement. Found myself in the basement, lost myself in a basement. Now, I want the basement in my new home, when I buy it, to be the most amazing place. I want my children to love the basement. To never fear the basement like I used to..I want a family to love one another in my basement and never know what I’ve experienced in basements of past.
Basement, bargain prices…sweet words to a shoppers ear.
I have never had a basement but when I think about having one it reminds me of goosebumps for some reason and all of those horrible movies you would never want to be a part of but for some reason I long to be a part of. It is a very american word but that might because it seems like a very american thing to have? Who knows? All I know is that I don’t have one and probably never will, actually I will.. cause i want to live in America.
our first place was a basement flat and was the first time we had a chance to plan and change things together. It was also the scene of some epic eating and drinking
The basement is the bottom of the house. That’s all i have.
ok I love basements its like the only thing I can sleep where ever I want or cry when ever I want these are reasons I love the basements today I live in tampa where you can’t have basements but somday I will live in a basement or maybe my mom can move and live in north carilina and then we can have a basement.
I am currently sitting in my basement in the middle of the florr very dicouraged because I just failed my math exam. I am eating cracker sand drinking tea though so that is okay. I’ve been very miserable this week and there is no apparent reason for it. some things just dont make snese in this world i’m sure you’d agreee with me. uhhhhh yaaayayayaayy wooooo wah wah we wahhhhh.
I wanted to live in one when I was younger. Maybe I sought a troglodyte existence. Today I am happy with light and air and space. It must be a security thing. I no longer need to curl up in the dark.
Mom and Dad’s basement, the cabinet down there, Eileen in a frilly dress, my dreams “afraid of time” woman from the backroom. The pleasure of recycling, cutting cardboard boxes, I keep my basement clean, dammit, all my drama saved for the dining room. I was terrified of their basement as a kid, the mess, the chaos, musty smell, the rooms we didn’t use, as if part of our world was unnecessary.
dark, deep and miserable. A cave of secrets waiting to be discovered, thrown out again and recycled for someone else to get upset about. Sometimes my basement terrifies me and I have to run, sweating, heart beating, back to the safety of my kitchen. No one else understands this. Our basement is light and modern.
I lived in a basement flat once, with a Nigerian woman who was finishing her PhD. She had such an infectious giggle – and was so proud the day she graduated. Oxford surprised with all her friends and relatives in traditional clothes, and me – in careful skirt and jacket!
Dark. Damp. Cold. I shiver between the washer and the wall. No one knows I’m here. It’s my secret spot. No one can hurt me. No one can touch me. I am immortal, yet at the same time, it’s like I’ve died. When I’m here, no one sees. No one knows. No one cares. NOt about me.
dark dreary , spiders crawling on me , cob webs getting in my hair
the basement was a mess, but i could tell that that is where, what i needed was to be found. and there it was, a great big box!
in the basement, I looked up at the door. at the top of the steps. closed. light peaking through the cracks. why was I here?
basement, a fantastic place for hermits, where they can hide away from the world and all it’s problems , all it’s bullies and other such knuckledragging people. But then they also hide away from all it’s brilliance and splendor. Everything that makes the human race beautiful.
That being said, I love basements. I really really do. Even damp ones. With rats.
I like rats.
dark so cold as night. its freezing in the basement. no sound.. alone. what was that sound. is it water running in from outside. I can’t see anything. I’m scared. try to find the light. I think its over there. Near the the stairs. Where? where I came in. Oh, I’m getting nauseous.
as i creep intothe basement hering each creak of the stair case wen i got down it was dark and dence