the insult catapulted into a somersault that flew the across the room and landed square between your eyes, knocking you out for a perfect 10. And while you lay unconscious, the little birdies that circled your head argued heatedly over the meaningless of flying round and round in circles.
It wasn’t until so many years later that I finally discerned what it was behind that intense emerald haze of his iris; They were dreams, stale dreams. Dreams that must have shone in the back of his mind like an orb of light in a cavern of diamonds; ideas and imaginations that must have, long ago, when he still had the ambitions of a naïveté, brought alight his eyes with excitement of incomprehensible beauty that only he could see in the deepest caverns of his psyche, that drove him feverishly.
And, at one point, they were extinguished – shattered by a self-loathing and nervousness that he could never overcome to achieve his hidden destiny. He was incredibly delicate (he had never touched a woman as long as I had known him), and the inner tortures of his low self-esteem must have kept him awake countless nights. Unable to attack the future with the voracity his wild wantings demanded, they crumbled with time beneath the pressure he put onto himself, and with them went out the godspark that had once likened his gaze to a lighthouse rotation.
Out of the ashes of his inner empire, so meticulously recreated again and again until its self immolation, rose the wisdom of ancients. A type of stoic, if not harsh, understanding of the pitiful world he had been placed in that could not sustain his dreams just as much as he couldn’t sustain himself long enough to see them through. I met him when those jewels he had been blessed with were no longer alight with the voracious ember of a sultans crown, but were dull – dull with an age of someone millenia older than he, with a sagacity born of a lifetime of self-imposed disappointment.
it pushes something to something. it makes stronger. it gives power. catapult throw, pushes, helps. it is amazing. catapult can be a metaphor to life and how everything in it has a reason.
them over the wall, just load em all up, pull back the arm and then wham! let ’em go. And good riddence to them all, I say. And who cares where they land? That’s somebo
Men and ash and soot and lives come crashing around me. I stoop up the heavy weight, and load it into the allocated bowl. Routine. Over and over. Fire! It’s gone now, over the wall, gone to cause havoc on the other side.
Their war cries were punctuated by the heavy thuds of rocks being thrown against our walls. The catapults had arrived. But this was not the end, right? I looked to our leader, her armor shining, despite being streaked with blood, and dented by weaponry. She stood on the walls, proud and strong, despite how they were likely to crumble under the assault of stone. It was in that moment that I caught a glimpse of her expression; despair.
one day i was sitting in what felt like my bed. to my surprise i was latched into a bowl of some sort. i struggled to free myself. wondering how i’d gotten there, i looked up into a blur of sunlight. i heard cheers all around me. then the announcer came on to say, ” greetings ladies
she was catapulted out of the cannon at ridiculously high speeds. at least that’s how she described her job during the npr interview i heard last week. her career in the circus had taken on new challenges, ones that could easily kill her with one bad move. silly girl. or, brave woman?
That’s a trebuchet, he said, smirking at both her and the screen simultaneously. Not a catapult. Geez. As if her lack of knowledge about medieval weaponry somehow made her less intelligent, less desirable, less of a partner. You know what? She asked as the movie played on, “Fuck you and your trebuchet.”
The men were wearing skirts made of animal skins, their large hairy thighs bulged. Two of them grabbed a large metallic sphere, they strained as they lifted the ball onto the mount, “gar” they roared.
His desire to catapult out of a life of fear and into one that led him to, what he believed, was his personal desitiny was overwhelming. Steve wasn’t the type of man who ever told people what he wanted or why. He put his head down and moved forward. Why now? Why does he find himself at the half way mark with nothing “real” to his name?
I took myself, put myself into a bucket, told him, “launch me” so he messed around with it and then he pulled down and I think I went flying, I saw the whole city, and out came my insides catapulted all over all sorts of cement, so proud of what I became.
THROW THINGS THROUGH A MECHANISM THAT PROPERLS THE THROWN THINGS A DISTANCE AT A TARGET OR AT NOTHING. IT IS VERY GOOD TO ADD MECHANICAL ADVANTAGE TO YOUR OWN STRENGTH
up and out , into the trees. War heros in pajamas. I found the one behind my bed one sunny afternoon so i slung it at my neighbors window who knew nothing of the midnight battles that took place in his back garden.
The stone flung through the air, thrown from the catapult, and it landed on the damp earth with a “thwuck”. Well, that was unusual, thought Thomas, seeing the stone at his feet.
You stand there wondering and hoping for someone to catapult you in the right direction, waiting for someone to make the decision for you, to take the blame whilst you take the success, so selfish so afraid you stand waiting
HE catapulted into the audience. “what the fuck am I doing” he thought to himself, as he glided towards shocked faces.Malevolently they now grined and shot him back up. the game was rigged and the out come was not in his favour, but alas.
I catapulted forward with the head of the sun rising up my neck. It couldn’t be done they said. It shouldn’t be done ever but I went forward without a second thought. What was I doing? Was this madness? I couldn’t decide. I looked him in the eye. My heart kept beating. I said it. Oh crap.
We had been catapulted into the unknown. Propelled into the murky abyss. Coiled and sprung like the bottom of a mattress to the dark, thick cushions of the impossible. We had landed feet first, our heels aching from the impact, and looked around, uncertain of where we were and how we had gotten there.
But then Malcolm pointed out that we had been literally catapulted into an unknown space.
Catapults are primitive siege weapons designed to throw boulders or clusters of rocks over a good distance. However, they are relatively inaccurate and rather ineffective against all but the lightest defenses. Better used as a terror weapon.
like being thrown out of a plane with no strings, no chute
or left stranded in a maze without a map or a route
catapulted into a state in which I haven’t any clue
that’s how it felt when I fell in love with you.
Peas. Green and gooey crushed peas. All over him as he catapults them across the room at his father. His father, a beautiful mess. Disheveled hair, grey t shirt with bits of peas on them, and boxers. They both smile the same mischievous smile as I walk in on the scene. How could I be mad when all I can see is a perfect family.
Flying cannonballs all over the No Man’s Land and making future amputees, who can’t return to their wives. Also, they hurt a lot when they hit. Looks like fun.
catapult:
A device that uses momentum to toss items over long distances. Used
in the medieval times to hurl stones and boulders over walls into enemy lines.
i have no idea what that means. what does it mean?
i wish i knew. i wish my vocabulary was better. english is my first language and i really suck at it. i wish i could improve!!!! catapult.
Fling
Swish
And hit
I’m in the mood for melodies
Dancing around real campfires, in crackling woods
With tambourines and bells to make it better
Waking up to swordfights, clashing in practice
Knowing- yes, that’s it, I’d like to know
That our happiness is justified, and we’re going to win
I like catapults very much. Jumping high can be fun.
the insult catapulted into a somersault that flew the across the room and landed square between your eyes, knocking you out for a perfect 10. And while you lay unconscious, the little birdies that circled your head argued heatedly over the meaningless of flying round and round in circles.
It wasn’t until so many years later that I finally discerned what it was behind that intense emerald haze of his iris; They were dreams, stale dreams. Dreams that must have shone in the back of his mind like an orb of light in a cavern of diamonds; ideas and imaginations that must have, long ago, when he still had the ambitions of a naïveté, brought alight his eyes with excitement of incomprehensible beauty that only he could see in the deepest caverns of his psyche, that drove him feverishly.
And, at one point, they were extinguished – shattered by a self-loathing and nervousness that he could never overcome to achieve his hidden destiny. He was incredibly delicate (he had never touched a woman as long as I had known him), and the inner tortures of his low self-esteem must have kept him awake countless nights. Unable to attack the future with the voracity his wild wantings demanded, they crumbled with time beneath the pressure he put onto himself, and with them went out the godspark that had once likened his gaze to a lighthouse rotation.
Out of the ashes of his inner empire, so meticulously recreated again and again until its self immolation, rose the wisdom of ancients. A type of stoic, if not harsh, understanding of the pitiful world he had been placed in that could not sustain his dreams just as much as he couldn’t sustain himself long enough to see them through. I met him when those jewels he had been blessed with were no longer alight with the voracious ember of a sultans crown, but were dull – dull with an age of someone millenia older than he, with a sagacity born of a lifetime of self-imposed disappointment.
it pushes something to something. it makes stronger. it gives power. catapult throw, pushes, helps. it is amazing. catapult can be a metaphor to life and how everything in it has a reason.
launch ones self. open up and go into the unknown. war.boost yourself and pull yourself up by theboots
them over the wall, just load em all up, pull back the arm and then wham! let ’em go. And good riddence to them all, I say. And who cares where they land? That’s somebo
Men and ash and soot and lives come crashing around me. I stoop up the heavy weight, and load it into the allocated bowl. Routine. Over and over. Fire! It’s gone now, over the wall, gone to cause havoc on the other side.
Their war cries were punctuated by the heavy thuds of rocks being thrown against our walls. The catapults had arrived. But this was not the end, right? I looked to our leader, her armor shining, despite being streaked with blood, and dented by weaponry. She stood on the walls, proud and strong, despite how they were likely to crumble under the assault of stone. It was in that moment that I caught a glimpse of her expression; despair.
one day i was sitting in what felt like my bed. to my surprise i was latched into a bowl of some sort. i struggled to free myself. wondering how i’d gotten there, i looked up into a blur of sunlight. i heard cheers all around me. then the announcer came on to say, ” greetings ladies
she was catapulted out of the cannon at ridiculously high speeds. at least that’s how she described her job during the npr interview i heard last week. her career in the circus had taken on new challenges, ones that could easily kill her with one bad move. silly girl. or, brave woman?
That’s a trebuchet, he said, smirking at both her and the screen simultaneously. Not a catapult. Geez. As if her lack of knowledge about medieval weaponry somehow made her less intelligent, less desirable, less of a partner. You know what? She asked as the movie played on, “Fuck you and your trebuchet.”
The men were wearing skirts made of animal skins, their large hairy thighs bulged. Two of them grabbed a large metallic sphere, they strained as they lifted the ball onto the mount, “gar” they roared.
eyelashes brake into a gold rush while the vietnam vet drinks his own urine, lions are looking at the duo, the jungle is cold today.
The fire had engulf the aeroplane and the pilot was unable to catapult from the plane in time.
What is catapult? I don’t know what it means. This a difficult word to freewrite about today. It could have used an easier word to freewrite about
His desire to catapult out of a life of fear and into one that led him to, what he believed, was his personal desitiny was overwhelming. Steve wasn’t the type of man who ever told people what he wanted or why. He put his head down and moved forward. Why now? Why does he find himself at the half way mark with nothing “real” to his name?
I took myself, put myself into a bucket, told him, “launch me” so he messed around with it and then he pulled down and I think I went flying, I saw the whole city, and out came my insides catapulted all over all sorts of cement, so proud of what I became.
THROW THINGS THROUGH A MECHANISM THAT PROPERLS THE THROWN THINGS A DISTANCE AT A TARGET OR AT NOTHING. IT IS VERY GOOD TO ADD MECHANICAL ADVANTAGE TO YOUR OWN STRENGTH
throw
chuck
medieval
torture
sling shot
up and out , into the trees. War heros in pajamas. I found the one behind my bed one sunny afternoon so i slung it at my neighbors window who knew nothing of the midnight battles that took place in his back garden.
tool on your hand shooting at animals It has rubber pulling tight
The stone flung through the air, thrown from the catapult, and it landed on the damp earth with a “thwuck”. Well, that was unusual, thought Thomas, seeing the stone at his feet.
flying though the air not knowing what to do but scream and struggle. wondering am i going to survie?
You stand there wondering and hoping for someone to catapult you in the right direction, waiting for someone to make the decision for you, to take the blame whilst you take the success, so selfish so afraid you stand waiting
it is control of machines and mechanism
HE catapulted into the audience. “what the fuck am I doing” he thought to himself, as he glided towards shocked faces.Malevolently they now grined and shot him back up. the game was rigged and the out come was not in his favour, but alas.
I catapulted forward with the head of the sun rising up my neck. It couldn’t be done they said. It shouldn’t be done ever but I went forward without a second thought. What was I doing? Was this madness? I couldn’t decide. I looked him in the eye. My heart kept beating. I said it. Oh crap.
We had been catapulted into the unknown. Propelled into the murky abyss. Coiled and sprung like the bottom of a mattress to the dark, thick cushions of the impossible. We had landed feet first, our heels aching from the impact, and looked around, uncertain of where we were and how we had gotten there.
But then Malcolm pointed out that we had been literally catapulted into an unknown space.
My thoughts were loaded onto a catapult and launched from my brain onto the paper as I wondered why I couldn’t speak as well as I write.
Wish I could catapult myself across the continent now. Much better than seeing you in this state.
Catapults are primitive siege weapons designed to throw boulders or clusters of rocks over a good distance. However, they are relatively inaccurate and rather ineffective against all but the lightest defenses. Better used as a terror weapon.
I have no idea what this word means but if I had to take a guess I said its something of a professional manner
like being thrown out of a plane with no strings, no chute
or left stranded in a maze without a map or a route
catapulted into a state in which I haven’t any clue
that’s how it felt when I fell in love with you.
Peas. Green and gooey crushed peas. All over him as he catapults them across the room at his father. His father, a beautiful mess. Disheveled hair, grey t shirt with bits of peas on them, and boxers. They both smile the same mischievous smile as I walk in on the scene. How could I be mad when all I can see is a perfect family.
Flying cannonballs all over the No Man’s Land and making future amputees, who can’t return to their wives. Also, they hurt a lot when they hit. Looks like fun.
if you’re thriving in past dwellings
here’s a boost to shoot you into the future
catapult:
A device that uses momentum to toss items over long distances. Used
in the medieval times to hurl stones and boulders over walls into enemy lines.
i have no idea what that means. what does it mean?
i wish i knew. i wish my vocabulary was better. english is my first language and i really suck at it. i wish i could improve!!!! catapult.
Fling
Swish
And hit
I’m in the mood for melodies
Dancing around real campfires, in crackling woods
With tambourines and bells to make it better
Waking up to swordfights, clashing in practice
Knowing- yes, that’s it, I’d like to know
That our happiness is justified, and we’re going to win
I endlessly fill my free time with activities and commitments to distract me from myself and what i’m missing in my life