My life goes in circles. I can’t seem to think about something without going in a complete circle. I will talk about one thing. Get off subject a little bit but then come right back into it and end the circle. Life is a circle. So that is why they call “circle of life”. That’s funny.
Gravel is gray. It reminds me of my grandmothers house. She has a gravel road that circles her house. I rode my bike on that gravel road alot. I miss those days. When all I had to worry about was falling on a gravel road. This is kind of depressing me.
I fell on the gravel with a painful thud. I sighed. There was no point to having a driveway covered with rocks that can make you injured.
In fact, I had already had my fill of pain with the driveway. My wrist, a leg, a finger. The memories were still etched in my skin with a pale scar. Without thinking, I rubbed the sore spot on my pinkie, tracing the line of the faint, pink scar.
its black it hurts your knees when you fall you can skid on it its made of rocks its dangerous its found in parking lots it gets really hot i dont like it
the house path was paved with it. the house itself was a broken glory. Huge and commanding in it’s heyday, it stood now a broken shell of its former self. grass was poking through the path cracks. in a few months
I don’t know the meaning of this word. Really.
I’m not a native english speaker, so there’s still some words I don’t know. This is one I think I’ve never heard.
But it sounds like grave or something like that.
My driveway has always been gravel. As a kid it aggravated me that I couldn’t make chalk drawings in front of my house like other kids. But I came to love the crunching roaring sound of someone pulling up. I now equate the sound of gravel with people coming home. My parents from work, my sister from school, or visitors that I’d been waiting for. I didn’t have to be watching. I would hear the gravel and I would know that someone was re-entering into my life.
its a grayish kind of stone, lining roads everywhere. Every night, Gravel’s wife cries herself to sleep, wondering who could have killed him. To this day, the Dirt Clod Gang eludes capture for the murder.
it ran under my feet and all around me. Wondering where i was, it was hard to not be terrified and scared. Why was I lying on the floor? Where was I? Why was I alone? last thing i remembered was sitting with friends enjoying a smoke. it was getting dark then and we all decided it was time to go. So we got into mark’s car. but then i blacked out. could it have been mark?
I think that im on a road a long road to nowhere but its not long enough i want to keep going i want to go forever without punctuation like this sentence but then the road stops and so i turn around and drive back the other way on the road forever
i grew up on a dirt road. gravel was luxury. to me, gravel is a country song, it means back roads and a long drive to get out of the trees. it means childhood and being trailer trash again, it means my cousin’s horses. my dad’s old cars.
Gravel. Road. Rocky. Life’s rocky road. I don’t know why I started to write right now. I’m not in the mood to think about anything other than memories. Oh memory lane. Now those were some rocky times with pathways covered by gravel. So why am I stuck on the gravel filled memory lane thinking about memories that only hurt.
I don’t like the gravel because at summercamp, one of my friends fell on the ground because she was getting an inadequate ammount of air that day, then she collapsed on the ground and i had to go get some
dark. hard. lumpy. makes roads. would hurt if you fell on top of it. loud when you drop something hard on it. driveway. cars make loud noises when going over it. walking on it sounds crunchy.
The gravel road at camp when I was ten years old and first growing hair on my body, when my mother shipped me my forgotten bra and when we learned how to use our bodies, all of the amazing things we could do with them.
was on top of the baking hot roof, next to the oversized door. I gentlt pushed it open, only to find a smaller door sligtly to the left. I opened that door, and woudnt you know it I found a third door. Strange as this was, I squeezed through it and saw the strangest animal I have ever layed eyes on
Foot steps, muffled by gravel on the road, quickly fell one after the other in the dead of night. Fog rolled slowly over the dell, moving slowly for the castle. A faint light shone from her window, showing the way to the castle. Would her knight arrive at midnight, as promised? If not, tomorrow would be too late to save her from a marriage to stranger and that she could not bear.
Gravel is like a rock, but it wanted to be a boulder, or a mountain,. But instead it is shitty gravel. grAVEL. nOT EVEN SAND, WHICH EVERYONE LOVES, BUT CHUNKY GRAVEL, THAT GETS STUCK IN BETWEEN YOUR SHOES AND stuff. But maybe someday, it will be bigger and finally be what it wanted to be…the grand canyon.
The road seemed dirty, far worse than I remembered it. The gravel seemed to have been moved around and lay in lumps. Returning from my 2 years tour of duty in Iraq, I realized that I had become quite sanguine about the state of the driveway.
I raised my eyes to the house at the end of the road. The gravel seemed to make the house looks disheveled as well, the sunset light casting a gray pall over the two-level house. I tried to make out if someone was on the balcony, but either the light was fading fast or my eyes were still recovering from the dark hell of Baghdad.
I wondered if she was still waiting for me to return, or was I too late?
people seem to be going to their graves younger and younger. It’s a shame to see them thrw their life away……. It’s hard to watch someone your own age make the front page and the local news just because they were going to fast and lost control…. I just don’t know anymore
When I was little, my cat knocked over my goldfish’ tank. There was water and colored gravel and fake grass everywhere, and I searched frantically for my fish. One was under the oven, and I was able to save him, but the other was smothered under a soffee mug. The one that survived died just a few months ago while I was at camp. I miss him.
I see the sand on the long narrow driveway and its course texture that we now call gravel. It keeps the road drivable even in the worse conditions. What a great invention for the country roads that we live on.
The taste fills my mouth as I’m tackled to the floor. Bits of rocks hit my face. The air is sucked out of me while I desperately look for the man in the striped uniform. I got it, touchdown.
I walked down the road and kicked the gravel at my feet. I always kick the gravel when I’m thinking about things that worry me. You’re in surgery today, and I hope that you’ll be alright. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone, Mom. I don’t know how I’d get by.
is hard that i was humbled and stumbled and fell. and falls hurts. but it hurts a little to more to almost fall but catch yourself on the way down. at least when you hit, you get the scars.
i dont know about this word but it reminds me of a kfc gravie souce .. my time is coming up.. literally.. and i’m craving for some hot wings right now.. and beer… oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
gravel.. to build. to establish. to give foundation to. All great edifices have a modest beginning…. and the foundation of amazing things: the sea, a park, a castle, a home. pretty cool.
As many times as I sigh, I know it won’t fix anything.
I love you.
My life goes in circles. I can’t seem to think about something without going in a complete circle. I will talk about one thing. Get off subject a little bit but then come right back into it and end the circle. Life is a circle. So that is why they call “circle of life”. That’s funny.
Gravel is gray. It reminds me of my grandmothers house. She has a gravel road that circles her house. I rode my bike on that gravel road alot. I miss those days. When all I had to worry about was falling on a gravel road. This is kind of depressing me.
I fell on the gravel with a painful thud. I sighed. There was no point to having a driveway covered with rocks that can make you injured.
In fact, I had already had my fill of pain with the driveway. My wrist, a leg, a finger. The memories were still etched in my skin with a pale scar. Without thinking, I rubbed the sore spot on my pinkie, tracing the line of the faint, pink scar.
rocks bumpy choppy hard cutting fun barefoot cold art dirt
its black it hurts your knees when you fall you can skid on it its made of rocks its dangerous its found in parking lots it gets really hot i dont like it
gravel on a rainy day, under my blue shoes they make noise
the house path was paved with it. the house itself was a broken glory. Huge and commanding in it’s heyday, it stood now a broken shell of its former self. grass was poking through the path cracks. in a few months
rough rocky filler
crunchy sound of tires traveling
speeding through and gravel dust rising
grit, sandy,
rough rocky filler
I don’t know the meaning of this word. Really.
I’m not a native english speaker, so there’s still some words I don’t know. This is one I think I’ve never heard.
But it sounds like grave or something like that.
My driveway has always been gravel. As a kid it aggravated me that I couldn’t make chalk drawings in front of my house like other kids. But I came to love the crunching roaring sound of someone pulling up. I now equate the sound of gravel with people coming home. My parents from work, my sister from school, or visitors that I’d been waiting for. I didn’t have to be watching. I would hear the gravel and I would know that someone was re-entering into my life.
its a grayish kind of stone, lining roads everywhere. Every night, Gravel’s wife cries herself to sleep, wondering who could have killed him. To this day, the Dirt Clod Gang eludes capture for the murder.
it ran under my feet and all around me. Wondering where i was, it was hard to not be terrified and scared. Why was I lying on the floor? Where was I? Why was I alone? last thing i remembered was sitting with friends enjoying a smoke. it was getting dark then and we all decided it was time to go. So we got into mark’s car. but then i blacked out. could it have been mark?
I think that im on a road a long road to nowhere but its not long enough i want to keep going i want to go forever without punctuation like this sentence but then the road stops and so i turn around and drive back the other way on the road forever
i grew up on a dirt road. gravel was luxury. to me, gravel is a country song, it means back roads and a long drive to get out of the trees. it means childhood and being trailer trash again, it means my cousin’s horses. my dad’s old cars.
Gravel. Road. Rocky. Life’s rocky road. I don’t know why I started to write right now. I’m not in the mood to think about anything other than memories. Oh memory lane. Now those were some rocky times with pathways covered by gravel. So why am I stuck on the gravel filled memory lane thinking about memories that only hurt.
hard. dark. pavement. black. stones, pebbles, very crumbly. strong when joined together. sidewalks. what can be symbolized using gravel?
Gravel. Churning up under oblivious footsteps. Broken and discarded, wanting to guide your path.
I don’t like the gravel because at summercamp, one of my friends fell on the ground because she was getting an inadequate ammount of air that day, then she collapsed on the ground and i had to go get some
A noun divided against itself, defined by bits and pieces. Every part a member, every piece a bit, and vice versa.
my driveway is gravel. Or was. It needs new gravel and smoothing out. I have to go slow over the potholes so I don’t ruin my car.
dark. hard. lumpy. makes roads. would hurt if you fell on top of it. loud when you drop something hard on it. driveway. cars make loud noises when going over it. walking on it sounds crunchy.
The gravel road at camp when I was ten years old and first growing hair on my body, when my mother shipped me my forgotten bra and when we learned how to use our bodies, all of the amazing things we could do with them.
was on top of the baking hot roof, next to the oversized door. I gentlt pushed it open, only to find a smaller door sligtly to the left. I opened that door, and woudnt you know it I found a third door. Strange as this was, I squeezed through it and saw the strangest animal I have ever layed eyes on
Foot steps, muffled by gravel on the road, quickly fell one after the other in the dead of night. Fog rolled slowly over the dell, moving slowly for the castle. A faint light shone from her window, showing the way to the castle. Would her knight arrive at midnight, as promised? If not, tomorrow would be too late to save her from a marriage to stranger and that she could not bear.
Gravel is like a rock, but it wanted to be a boulder, or a mountain,. But instead it is shitty gravel. grAVEL. nOT EVEN SAND, WHICH EVERYONE LOVES, BUT CHUNKY GRAVEL, THAT GETS STUCK IN BETWEEN YOUR SHOES AND stuff. But maybe someday, it will be bigger and finally be what it wanted to be…the grand canyon.
The road seemed dirty, far worse than I remembered it. The gravel seemed to have been moved around and lay in lumps. Returning from my 2 years tour of duty in Iraq, I realized that I had become quite sanguine about the state of the driveway.
I raised my eyes to the house at the end of the road. The gravel seemed to make the house looks disheveled as well, the sunset light casting a gray pall over the two-level house. I tried to make out if someone was on the balcony, but either the light was fading fast or my eyes were still recovering from the dark hell of Baghdad.
I wondered if she was still waiting for me to return, or was I too late?
people seem to be going to their graves younger and younger. It’s a shame to see them thrw their life away……. It’s hard to watch someone your own age make the front page and the local news just because they were going to fast and lost control…. I just don’t know anymore
When I was little, my cat knocked over my goldfish’ tank. There was water and colored gravel and fake grass everywhere, and I searched frantically for my fish. One was under the oven, and I was able to save him, but the other was smothered under a soffee mug. The one that survived died just a few months ago while I was at camp. I miss him.
I see the sand on the long narrow driveway and its course texture that we now call gravel. It keeps the road drivable even in the worse conditions. What a great invention for the country roads that we live on.
The taste fills my mouth as I’m tackled to the floor. Bits of rocks hit my face. The air is sucked out of me while I desperately look for the man in the striped uniform. I got it, touchdown.
The gravel is hard on my feet as I run to the mail box, hoping for a piece of mail worth making me smile.
the rock fell through the dark pavement the simple footsteps reflected upoun in a dissonent manner
I walked down the road and kicked the gravel at my feet. I always kick the gravel when I’m thinking about things that worry me. You’re in surgery today, and I hope that you’ll be alright. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone, Mom. I don’t know how I’d get by.
When you cry it feels like there is gravel in my stomach.
is hard that i was humbled and stumbled and fell. and falls hurts. but it hurts a little to more to almost fall but catch yourself on the way down. at least when you hit, you get the scars.
todays word is gravel i think… and didnt like it.. it is too rude to make a word that resembles “grave” and put the meaning as “to build and create”
i dont know about this word but it reminds me of a kfc gravie souce .. my time is coming up.. literally.. and i’m craving for some hot wings right now.. and beer… oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
gravel.. to build. to establish. to give foundation to. All great edifices have a modest beginning…. and the foundation of amazing things: the sea, a park, a castle, a home. pretty cool.