Kicking the Bucket List

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Everyone has at least one item on their bucket list, whether it involves seeing one of the many wonders of the world, or buying a new car, or getting married, everyone has an aspiration they’re aiming for later in life. I’ve had a long and illustrious bucket list for many years. Some items I’ve achieved already in my twenty four years, some I’ve yet to complete. Some will cross over with the Promises and Wishes posts that I’ve done the past few years, as I like to kick myself up the butt every now and again and make sure I don’t leave them all until retirement! So I thought I would share with you what’s on my list and what I’ve achieved thus far.

In no particular order.

Items in bold dictate completion.

  • Learn the drums
  • Become Busted’s official drummer (still working on this one)
  • Be in a band
  • Go travelling
  • Go on holiday with a loved one
  • Share a romantic bath/jacuzzi/swim
  • Travel the New York Subway
  • Go to university
  • Write a book
  • Get published (technically I’ve had poems published but this refers to my novel)
  • Learn to knit
  • Donate blood
  • Learn to do the splits
  • Milk a cow
  • Skydive
  • Visit Stonehenge
  • Be an extra in a movie
  • Ride a camel
  • Ride an elephant
  • Cuddle a koala
  • Watch the F1 in Monte Carlo
  • Stay in an over water chalet
  • Learn to drive
  • Get married
  • Buy a house
  • Get more tattoos
  • Learn French
  • Volunteer somewhere
  • Ride in a hot air balloon
  • Buy a car
  • Get my own place

These are the thirty-something items on my bucket list. And I’ve completed a third them already, which is pretty good going considering I’m probably about a third of the way through my lifetime. Here’s to the next twenty four (ish) years!

Let me know down below in the comments what’s on your bucket list!

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blue butterfly – the wallflower

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She wrote love letters to the monsters under the bed

Made of papier-mâché barricades

And arranging bear bones into swords.

 

She was alive alive alive and they were dead.

Some inside the trinket box in the shape of an elephant

And the rest in the waste basket case, alone

 

She was always alone, picking roses from next door

And pressing them between pages of hardback books

Snapping the stalk in half and watching the sap ooze

Onto the words and smudging them, watching the ink run.