bulbs. light bulbs. that is what teenagers love to say these days. “hey get lost! don’t be a light bulb!” “don’t be so bright laa, let them enjoy in their own world please” its kinda funny, out of everything else in the world, you can be called as a light bulb when you’re hanging out with a lovey dovey couple. (:
I saw the light bulb burst into a shower of electricity above his head. He was so self-centered, I could tell he could see it too. But he had reason to be full of himself. He was a scientist, and a very accomplished one at that!
There’s a light bulb in the ceiling of my bedroom. It’ is my safety. When I flip the switch all my fears disapear. The man in the closet, the boogeyman under the bed, the womanly figure in the corner of the room, even the fear that as I lay sleeping I am retainging calories opposed to shedding them. I leap from the bed side(to avoid something under the bed grabbing me) to the switch. I missed. I only need one more step but I lost my balancing stumbling over myself to reach that safety so far away. Suddenly on my knees beside the wall. I can feel all the evils of my mind rushing toward my from everycorner of the room. I reach up scratching for the smallest switch on an empty wall. i flip the switch. The light bulb flashes on and off in an instant. It burned out. Suddenly there is no safety in the room. I open the door, run down the hallway turn on the light and breath for the shortest second. Light is in the hallway but I’m not safe. Dark creeps up on every side. I need to get into the closet with the spare bulbs. As I peak in my room I can see the handicap of the hall light. As the light can only stream from the open door long shadows from the dresser and book shelf create excellent hiding places for my enemies. Mustering all the courage I can I sheepishly tip-toe in the room to hurriedly switch the lights. Here in the warmth of the light of my room, I know I’m safe. No burglar can harm me. No creature can reach me. I’m ultimatley safe.
“I need you to change my light bulb,” Kate giggled girlishly. Everything she said sounded like inneundo. Which Jared liked. He was looking for a fling with a cheap slut to help him get over Stacey.
Contains light. Light that is trapped, but one should believe in the freedom of light.
How it bounces and reflects off of everything around it. We should have the freedom of light, but we are bulbs to ourselves.
This is a word that comes after light. A fixture of which can light up an entire room, going from darkness to light in an instant. This word sounds funny if you say it without comprehension of the meaning…listen: BUUUULB!!!!
The bulb was a little seed, growing somewhere in the shade of giant oak. So inferior it felt, so small and tiny, with no idea as to where it would it grow. How could it grow, with the might oak standing there, watching its every move? The oak spoke then, voice like a God, encouraging the little seed along.
‘Never fear, for we all start small, but if you put your heart into it, you will grow.’
No longer afraid, the little seed, just nothing more than a bulb, took root, and began to grow, a new adventure all its own.
The bulb was scorching. This idea would realize itself. Never had such a profound thought graced deep gray cerebral canals. This was her ticket out – not a lottery ticket, but a ticket to ride… earned in full.
I need a new bulb– this one is broken. I slump over my keyboard and try to think of five hundred more words to hack out into my story, all the while feeling like everything is completely devoid of anything interesting. I need a new idea bulb, because mine is dead.
the flower bulb i hold in my hand feels so fragile. is that how our lives are? just waiting to be planted and nurtured until we grow into something lovely? i clench my fist and frown. i hate this. i hate how fragile this is and how fragile we are. i wish we would all die.
Bulbs, both light and tulip, represent possibility — the one of flowering growth, the other, metaphorically, of an idea. Brilliance can apply to both, referring either to remarkability either in hue or significance.
Bulb? Animal, vegetable or mineral? Oh – light bulb! It could have been a flower bulb, you know. I kind of like the light bulb version, though. Playing the Hermit, holding my lantern out there. ;-)
the light bulb just went off in my head, it really did. i am happy and will be happy for as long as a choose to be. let’s hope my light doesn’t go out anytime soon.
The autopilot flicks on, and that switch is what pushes her over.
Not that she would hear it, not really.
Then, I could free her, because I knew she would keep flying without me.
And she did,
only she flew too high,
I looked up at the burnt out bulb, fighting back tears.
That stupid burnt out bulb seemed to just be mocking me and how I was feeling at the moment.
Burnt out. Lacking inspiration for anything. Just straight up worn out.
I felt like a burnt out bulb that no one had bothered to replace yet or was just too dang lazy.
I sat down, allowing the darkness to overcome me.
Stupid burnt out bulb.
Please stop giving me the word bulb. There is nothing interesting about bulbs, be they the kind plants come from, or the kind from which light is emitted. Or even the kind that goes off when you have a good idea, though that is the same kind of bulb that emits light, but rather a figurative light. A metaphor for something else. Moths are gross.
Bulbs are what plants grow from. I don’t find plants to be the least bit interesting. I’m not entirely sure why anyone does find horticulture to be interesting. Plants fucking suck. I’m allergic to them, almost all of them, even thinking about them makes me itch. Did you know that itching is something I do all the time? Because I always see plants.
i don’t know what to write. it is raining outside and i am up way past my bedtime. i am feeling stressed because i have alot of ap bio homework to do before summer ends. i am kind-of tired too because it is so late at night. my laptop is really hot. i am sweating alot. my sister and i are
I sat and watched the light bulb go out. It flickered for a while then just died. I was alone now in a dark room. I knew there was a replacement bulb downstairs, but i could not muster the energy to get it. So i sat. Alone. In darkness.
Swinging left to right in this dim-lit room. I sit and wait for her to show her face. The face of the woman who took me away from all that I knew and brought me here to this Hell for torture. What is her name,you might ask….I’ll never know.
The lights go on instantly. No surprise, no regret. Just as my heart lights up instantly. No surprise, no regret. I just wish I knew what MY light bulb was telling me. Is this feeling because my light bulb is going off or because its going on? The light should be filling me but instead, I am hollow…
Light comes out of them, and they light up the rooms everyday! They come in all different sizes and shapes. The bulb was invented a long time ago, but it is still an essential part of everyday life. Most people cannot imagine their life without the light bulb.
I moved into a house in the country and in the front yard was a large mulberry tree with a planter on all sides that you could sit on. Since it was the middle of winter nothing was growing in the planter so I thought I would plant flowers there when spring arrived. Well, one day in early spring I came home and realized that tulip bulbs were shooting up. Every week a different color of tulips popped up. Even exotic colors ordered from Holland. It was so beautiful and started my life long love of tulips.
It’s an odd feeling… seeing you hold the glowing light bulb in your hands…. you smile at it although it’s magical, and your child-like innocence makes me fall for you just a bit harder. It’s unfortunate you’ll never feel the same way about me.
I think that lightbulbs are odd… I never really understood them. Though I really like them because I’m scared of the dark…. I believe in ghosts so for some reason, light bulbs make me less scared at night. I wonder if people were scared of the dark before lightbulbs existed?
As I opened my eyes, the glare of the light seemed to be unbearable. I tried to lift my hands to rub my eyes, but I couldn’t. My hands were bound. I blinked repeatedly and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see that it was just a single, bare bulb that dangled from a wire above my head. I didn’t recognize the room, but I’d seen a dozen others just like it. It was a bare room of concrete and cinder blocks, though in all of the previous ones I’d seen, I wasn’t the one tied up. It seemed that this would prove to be a new experience.
like the tingle of the deli counter bell,
like the instant unexpected fingers meet,
the flare of electricity
sparks
he feels it
she hopes he felt it
because what do you know
she felt it too
What do you call a flower before it blooms? A bud? No, fuck you. Okay. No, wait. Bullshit. There’s no meaning to this post for I am much too drunk to be writitng.
The flowers broke through the haze. I knew they were there before I saw them. I could smell their honeyed fragrances drifting along with the fog and bits of Earl Grey. Who planted those bulbs? How long ago did someone toil to make sure people would smile as they passed this little garden.
I planted the bulb beneath the wet soil, saying goodbye to such a plain root. For soon it would sprout leaves and a flower, and it would no longer be just a bulb but a living thing reaching for the sun.
The light flows,
filling the room.
Illuminating the unknown,
the darkness all around.
It’s odd to say something so small,
can relieve so many fears.
How it can kill and scare the things lurking behind the dark curtain they call night.
One light bulb in my head, that’s all it takes. When it lights up, things work out, and everything will be alright. Don’t count on me though, because it might burst with sparks and ends up in the trash.
There’s a light bulb above my head. It hasn’t turned on in years, it seems. So many have great ideas, but I just sit on my bed and take in what others have created. Maybe if I had an idea, things wouldn’t be so difficult for me to understand when others talk of brilliance.
The light bulb went off in my head. Oh, so that’s what he was talking about. I had been staring blankly at the slightly off-centered eyebrow above his right eye for the past 23 minutes. I wish he didn’t like hearing himself speak so much. We could have saved so much time had he only went straight to the point.
bulbs. light bulbs. that is what teenagers love to say these days. “hey get lost! don’t be a light bulb!” “don’t be so bright laa, let them enjoy in their own world please” its kinda funny, out of everything else in the world, you can be called as a light bulb when you’re hanging out with a lovey dovey couple. (:
I saw the light bulb burst into a shower of electricity above his head. He was so self-centered, I could tell he could see it too. But he had reason to be full of himself. He was a scientist, and a very accomplished one at that!
There’s a light bulb in the ceiling of my bedroom. It’ is my safety. When I flip the switch all my fears disapear. The man in the closet, the boogeyman under the bed, the womanly figure in the corner of the room, even the fear that as I lay sleeping I am retainging calories opposed to shedding them. I leap from the bed side(to avoid something under the bed grabbing me) to the switch. I missed. I only need one more step but I lost my balancing stumbling over myself to reach that safety so far away. Suddenly on my knees beside the wall. I can feel all the evils of my mind rushing toward my from everycorner of the room. I reach up scratching for the smallest switch on an empty wall. i flip the switch. The light bulb flashes on and off in an instant. It burned out. Suddenly there is no safety in the room. I open the door, run down the hallway turn on the light and breath for the shortest second. Light is in the hallway but I’m not safe. Dark creeps up on every side. I need to get into the closet with the spare bulbs. As I peak in my room I can see the handicap of the hall light. As the light can only stream from the open door long shadows from the dresser and book shelf create excellent hiding places for my enemies. Mustering all the courage I can I sheepishly tip-toe in the room to hurriedly switch the lights. Here in the warmth of the light of my room, I know I’m safe. No burglar can harm me. No creature can reach me. I’m ultimatley safe.
“I need you to change my light bulb,” Kate giggled girlishly. Everything she said sounded like inneundo. Which Jared liked. He was looking for a fling with a cheap slut to help him get over Stacey.
Contains light. Light that is trapped, but one should believe in the freedom of light.
How it bounces and reflects off of everything around it. We should have the freedom of light, but we are bulbs to ourselves.
This is a word that comes after light. A fixture of which can light up an entire room, going from darkness to light in an instant. This word sounds funny if you say it without comprehension of the meaning…listen: BUUUULB!!!!
The bulb was a little seed, growing somewhere in the shade of giant oak. So inferior it felt, so small and tiny, with no idea as to where it would it grow. How could it grow, with the might oak standing there, watching its every move? The oak spoke then, voice like a God, encouraging the little seed along.
‘Never fear, for we all start small, but if you put your heart into it, you will grow.’
No longer afraid, the little seed, just nothing more than a bulb, took root, and began to grow, a new adventure all its own.
The bulb was scorching. This idea would realize itself. Never had such a profound thought graced deep gray cerebral canals. This was her ticket out – not a lottery ticket, but a ticket to ride… earned in full.
I need a new bulb– this one is broken. I slump over my keyboard and try to think of five hundred more words to hack out into my story, all the while feeling like everything is completely devoid of anything interesting. I need a new idea bulb, because mine is dead.
the flower bulb i hold in my hand feels so fragile. is that how our lives are? just waiting to be planted and nurtured until we grow into something lovely? i clench my fist and frown. i hate this. i hate how fragile this is and how fragile we are. i wish we would all die.
Bulbs, both light and tulip, represent possibility — the one of flowering growth, the other, metaphorically, of an idea. Brilliance can apply to both, referring either to remarkability either in hue or significance.
Bulb? Animal, vegetable or mineral? Oh – light bulb! It could have been a flower bulb, you know. I kind of like the light bulb version, though. Playing the Hermit, holding my lantern out there. ;-)
the light bulb just went off in my head, it really did. i am happy and will be happy for as long as a choose to be. let’s hope my light doesn’t go out anytime soon.
The autopilot flicks on, and that switch is what pushes her over.
Not that she would hear it, not really.
Then, I could free her, because I knew she would keep flying without me.
And she did,
only she flew too high,
and the bulb fried her when she hit it.
I looked up at the burnt out bulb, fighting back tears.
That stupid burnt out bulb seemed to just be mocking me and how I was feeling at the moment.
Burnt out. Lacking inspiration for anything. Just straight up worn out.
I felt like a burnt out bulb that no one had bothered to replace yet or was just too dang lazy.
I sat down, allowing the darkness to overcome me.
Stupid burnt out bulb.
Please stop giving me the word bulb. There is nothing interesting about bulbs, be they the kind plants come from, or the kind from which light is emitted. Or even the kind that goes off when you have a good idea, though that is the same kind of bulb that emits light, but rather a figurative light. A metaphor for something else. Moths are gross.
Darkness engulfed it all as the bulb burnt out. Burnt out. Burnt out. Burnt out. Darkness engulfed it all as the bulb burnt out.
Bulbs are what plants grow from. I don’t find plants to be the least bit interesting. I’m not entirely sure why anyone does find horticulture to be interesting. Plants fucking suck. I’m allergic to them, almost all of them, even thinking about them makes me itch. Did you know that itching is something I do all the time? Because I always see plants.
i don’t know what to write. it is raining outside and i am up way past my bedtime. i am feeling stressed because i have alot of ap bio homework to do before summer ends. i am kind-of tired too because it is so late at night. my laptop is really hot. i am sweating alot. my sister and i are
such a funny word, i wonder how did they come out with it although when you hear it its easy to think of light dont you agree?
I sat and watched the light bulb go out. It flickered for a while then just died. I was alone now in a dark room. I knew there was a replacement bulb downstairs, but i could not muster the energy to get it. So i sat. Alone. In darkness.
is something that illuminates us from the darkness and clearing the path along the way for us to be safe.
Swinging left to right in this dim-lit room. I sit and wait for her to show her face. The face of the woman who took me away from all that I knew and brought me here to this Hell for torture. What is her name,you might ask….I’ll never know.
The lights go on instantly. No surprise, no regret. Just as my heart lights up instantly. No surprise, no regret. I just wish I knew what MY light bulb was telling me. Is this feeling because my light bulb is going off or because its going on? The light should be filling me but instead, I am hollow…
Light comes out of them, and they light up the rooms everyday! They come in all different sizes and shapes. The bulb was invented a long time ago, but it is still an essential part of everyday life. Most people cannot imagine their life without the light bulb.
I don’t really know what to write, but hell yeah I’m still in love.. I can’t make it without him, i love him so freaking much! I love being happy.
I moved into a house in the country and in the front yard was a large mulberry tree with a planter on all sides that you could sit on. Since it was the middle of winter nothing was growing in the planter so I thought I would plant flowers there when spring arrived. Well, one day in early spring I came home and realized that tulip bulbs were shooting up. Every week a different color of tulips popped up. Even exotic colors ordered from Holland. It was so beautiful and started my life long love of tulips.
It’s an odd feeling… seeing you hold the glowing light bulb in your hands…. you smile at it although it’s magical, and your child-like innocence makes me fall for you just a bit harder. It’s unfortunate you’ll never feel the same way about me.
I think that lightbulbs are odd… I never really understood them. Though I really like them because I’m scared of the dark…. I believe in ghosts so for some reason, light bulbs make me less scared at night. I wonder if people were scared of the dark before lightbulbs existed?
a light flashed on and at once i realized what was missing. Him. How could i live without Him. He died for me. I am not without Him.
As I opened my eyes, the glare of the light seemed to be unbearable. I tried to lift my hands to rub my eyes, but I couldn’t. My hands were bound. I blinked repeatedly and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see that it was just a single, bare bulb that dangled from a wire above my head. I didn’t recognize the room, but I’d seen a dozen others just like it. It was a bare room of concrete and cinder blocks, though in all of the previous ones I’d seen, I wasn’t the one tied up. It seemed that this would prove to be a new experience.
like the tingle of the deli counter bell,
like the instant unexpected fingers meet,
the flare of electricity
sparks
he feels it
she hopes he felt it
because what do you know
she felt it too
What do you call a flower before it blooms? A bud? No, fuck you. Okay. No, wait. Bullshit. There’s no meaning to this post for I am much too drunk to be writitng.
The flowers broke through the haze. I knew they were there before I saw them. I could smell their honeyed fragrances drifting along with the fog and bits of Earl Grey. Who planted those bulbs? How long ago did someone toil to make sure people would smile as they passed this little garden.
I planted the bulb beneath the wet soil, saying goodbye to such a plain root. For soon it would sprout leaves and a flower, and it would no longer be just a bulb but a living thing reaching for the sun.
The light flows,
filling the room.
Illuminating the unknown,
the darkness all around.
It’s odd to say something so small,
can relieve so many fears.
How it can kill and scare the things lurking behind the dark curtain they call night.
One light bulb in my head, that’s all it takes. When it lights up, things work out, and everything will be alright. Don’t count on me though, because it might burst with sparks and ends up in the trash.
There’s a light bulb above my head. It hasn’t turned on in years, it seems. So many have great ideas, but I just sit on my bed and take in what others have created. Maybe if I had an idea, things wouldn’t be so difficult for me to understand when others talk of brilliance.
fish
The light bulb went off in my head. Oh, so that’s what he was talking about. I had been staring blankly at the slightly off-centered eyebrow above his right eye for the past 23 minutes. I wish he didn’t like hearing himself speak so much. We could have saved so much time had he only went straight to the point.