What does it mean to be a bucket?

Everything, in short.

To understand such a statement, we must realize the fact that a bucket can contain anything, from water, to people, and even the world, but more importantly, buckets are holders of all our beliefs; they are what we think them to be.

Ponder the use of a bucket, and most would answer "to carry water" or some other application in the realm of simplicity, and thus, the problem is revealed to us, that it is not the bucket's fault that it is rarely meant to achieve greatness, but people for limiting the bucket.

When thoughts are merely mundane, when objects are locked into popular contentions and uses, when even ideas are synchronized for the sake of supposed harmony, are moments when the bucket loses its majesty.

Consider another object of less importance like a toilet bowl, or a cardboard box. These objects are low on the totem pole of wonder, but that is only because we limit them to be. Ask yourselves this: what would hold greater potential and spectacle, a car with four wheels going up to two hundred miles an hour, or a toilet bowl soaring across the night sky, leaving a line of fire seared into the blackness behind it. Though realizing that the rider of the toilet will never be able to steer their porcelain vehicle, remember also that drivers will never be able to pierce the clouds, and should we need it be, a bucket will make for a wonderful toilet.

Such is the reason why I aspire to be a bucket, but not a bucket that is meant to hold liquid or other materials of tangible properties, because I am a greater bucket than that: mine will be the bucket that shields the abyss from the piercing light because darkness fears going away too. Mine will the bucket that holds the brightness that the night cannot hope to deprive the world. Mine will be the bucket that, should terrible creatures of the great beyond invade, deploy legions of sentient Fried Chicken Commandos, each forsaken in life but exalted in death for their magnificent taste and prowess against the beasts man was not meant to comprehend.

I shall hold a bucket of madness, of insanity, of improbability, because my bucket is so much beyond a mere carrier, but a creator of abstractions past the point of comprehension.

My bucket is great because I believe in my bucket, in how it is greater than how most choose to perceive it; it is harder than any helmet and more mighty than any flail.

So in turn, believe in your buckets, regardless of what you might call them, or what popular purpose they serve, because one day, against all odds, your buckets may help you reach the moon, and should that time come, you would know that despite all the madness or stupidity in putting your faith in bucket, you are in the air.

Concurrently, should you realize that, I also hope that your bucket has a means of surviving the vacuum.

Sincerely, the Bucket that is Dark at night but Bright in day