Yesterday I was walking in the park with my sister when out of nowhere I just dropped. When I got back up again my sister laughed and mocked my “tripping.” I assured her I hadn’t tripped. I never trip. So, we went on our merry way. Isn’t it funny how insignificant a tiny drop can be?
I dropped a baseball and coach was angry – he said, never give up! If you get close to the ball & have a chance it should never be dropped. I have never forgotten that day, and how much coach believed in me.
When you’re dropping in the sky, it’s a freeing feeling. Adventurous. Daring. Unique. Until you hit the ground. There is that jolt that reminds you you should have chosen to take a parachute.
I dropped my apple on the ground, picked it up, brushed it of and started munching. I feel my teeth sink into the skin, and the juice burst onto my tongue. As I chew away i feel the morsels texture with my tongue against my cheek.
I don’t know why but when I fell in love with him, my heart dropped.
I don’t know why but when I saw him my mouth dropped.
I don’t know why but when he reached a certain age his …..
Heart dropping. Incredible pain. Feels as if I am garbage. Breaking, and broken. Why do I always resort to negative thinking? Because you’re fucked, you idiot. Completely.
I dropped onto the ground, cursing at the loud thump that my shoes made against the pavement. That window had been the wrong one, but I had no way of knowing which way to turn next. I couldn’t exactly call up Mason and ask where he lived. His mother had made it very clear the last time we saw each other that they had moved across town for a reason. A reason named Katie.
I lay in bead, eyes closed, trying not to think, trying to let my thoughts drift, trying to fall asleep…but it wasn’t working. It kept coming back, the darkness, the thoughts I didn’t want to have, the things I didn’t want to remember…. They haunted me.
She dropped the baby on his head. That’s why he was the way he was. As a newborn, he had been fine. I left for work every day and kissed him on the nose. I said, “’til the morrow, my son.” and laughed a fine laughed and left. One day, an average day, I kissed him on his soft little nose, I bade him to the morrow and I left. A few hours later, I came home and my baby was no where in sight.
“Meredith, where is the baby?” I said.
Just like that he dropped the package. He suddenly wasn’t sure what was inside, but judging by the fact that it sounded like it was ticking at him, it couldn’t be good. It had started when he picked it up, and even though it was now on the ground, the noise continued.
I’m just chatting with a friend about bananas and how they’re good and a great source of potassium, and then, suddenly…dropped. Cut off. Just like that.
right from the start
I should have known, I told myself
should have known.
how could something ever seem so perfect?
how could I ever be this happy?
because I’m leaving for a brand new city on the ocean
and how could it be,
could it really be meant to be?
dropped on the floor and scattered into pieces, the truth broke and seeped across the white porcelain tile. This was a mess that would take a lot more than a paper towel to clean.
He didn’t know why he did. He also wasn’t quite sure what it was he was letting go of. He just knew he couldn’t hold on any more, and he didn’t want to. At first he was guilty. He wondered what would happen if he had always held on. Then he felt release. It was gone. Whatever it was.
I’ve dropped things.
But like all mistakes in life
It’s about picking up the pieces.
Sometimes you can glue it back together –
And other times you
Make something new –
As for my preference, I prefer the latter. It’s usually more true.
Gravity is an amazing thing. In my class the other day we were talking about how no one really notices the effect it has or when it is put into action. When something is dropped and the way it falls straight down. Its fascinating.
I dropped my head. I couldn’t pick it up. It took me five years to figure out that I was an orangutang. My genetics told me otherwise. When I went to the doctor, he told me to make sure that my body was completely shaved, otherwise the pump would not work. I had to find a homeless man to shave me.
Dropped. Dropped the bomb. Dropped the biggest piece of news you’ll hear your entire life. Perhaps some may see “popping” the question as one of these bombs. For some, this is an explosive life altering statement.
Once upon a time there lived a man with clumsy fingers. He was always dropping everything he picked up. One day, as he was walking down the beachfront, he picked up a small shell. Naturally, it tumbled from his hands. It was picked up a small child, who took it and ran off with a smile. He was glad for his clumsiness that day.
I once dropped a can of soup on my pinkie toe. It really, really, really fucking hurt. I yelled a little, picked up the can and proceeded to eat the contents for lunch. Somewhat satisfying.
Dropped out of high school, just lounging around at 15 dollar an hour pay. What a chill lifestyle, seriously, it is so much simpler than going to college and working off loans. essentially like rent you experine
i dropped the ball. i never felt a metaphor for fitting for my life at the moment. there was nothing that could have been more equated. it rolled down the wet street, collecting remnants of fall leaves before eventually dissapearing, camoflouging itself into collections of the sewer.
She supposed she should do something about it, really, about all the glittering shards lying on the floor. That’s what one did, wasn’t it? Picked up the pieces and threw them in the trash and moved on with one’s life?
But she wasn’t the one who dropped it in the first place.
He dropped his pants. She dropped hers, too. They stood on opposite ends of the room, heads cocked, squinting, staring. He would have walked to her but he didn’t have it in him to make the next move. She would have crossed that line to where he was standing, but she had too much to lose. The clock ticked audibly, and one of them sighed.
I dropped something. Not my faith, but my ability to understand my faith. I believe it is still there, sitting on the ground. Realistically, I just need to pick it up, and dust it off. It doesnt leave, it stays. You have to agree to move.
I dropped the plate I was carrying, sending food flying all along the walls, floor, and ceiling. As exasperated as I was, my kitchen had never looked so colorful. Maybe I’d keep it this way.
the ball again, Ethan. When don’t you drop it? You never had any fuckin’ balls in the first place, haha. That’s what they say to him, okay. That’s what the pretty sweetheart has to deal with day in and day out, so why is it that no one can let up on him for five seconds? Why doesn’t anyone understand?
i dropped my pencil on the desk. it rolled until the end but just before it fell, i grabbed it. like a bar trick played on me at an irish pub in midtown by an authentic and classy irishman, i grabbed it just before it hit the ground. that doesn’t make sense… the bartender caught i just as it left his hand. like he mean to do it.
Dropped. That’s what happened to me. I fell into his arms and he caught me with his heart. Then he let me fall. I don’t know why. His hand fit perfectly into mine. His eyes twinkled like stars in the deep night sky. Still, he dropped my live and shooed me out of existance. Still, I just want an answer as to why. Why would you let me fall? Let me pour my tears out in the middle of the night over someone like you? I don’t even know why I tried to give you my heart, somehow I knew you’d only let it fall. Now I’m going to fall- not in love like I did before. I’m falling out of love and away from you.
So what.
Am I diversity?
Maybe.
Dropped, that’s what I did with my pretension. I’ve seen enough cruel behavior towards those who fall into the margin known as “minority.”
Yesterday I was walking in the park with my sister when out of nowhere I just dropped. When I got back up again my sister laughed and mocked my “tripping.” I assured her I hadn’t tripped. I never trip. So, we went on our merry way. Isn’t it funny how insignificant a tiny drop can be?
I dropped the apple; dropped the bomb. I’m sorry “sorry” was all that I could say.
I dropped a baseball and coach was angry – he said, never give up! If you get close to the ball & have a chance it should never be dropped. I have never forgotten that day, and how much coach believed in me.
Her hand dropped to her side, motionless.
He said nothing. The silence was enough.
Had it only been yesterday that he’d held her in his arms?
When you’re dropping in the sky, it’s a freeing feeling. Adventurous. Daring. Unique. Until you hit the ground. There is that jolt that reminds you you should have chosen to take a parachute.
I dropped my apple on the ground, picked it up, brushed it of and started munching. I feel my teeth sink into the skin, and the juice burst onto my tongue. As I chew away i feel the morsels texture with my tongue against my cheek.
I don’t know why but when I fell in love with him, my heart dropped.
I don’t know why but when I saw him my mouth dropped.
I don’t know why but when he reached a certain age his …..
Heart dropping. Incredible pain. Feels as if I am garbage. Breaking, and broken. Why do I always resort to negative thinking? Because you’re fucked, you idiot. Completely.
I dropped onto the ground, cursing at the loud thump that my shoes made against the pavement. That window had been the wrong one, but I had no way of knowing which way to turn next. I couldn’t exactly call up Mason and ask where he lived. His mother had made it very clear the last time we saw each other that they had moved across town for a reason. A reason named Katie.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
The raindrops pattered against the roof.
I lay in bead, eyes closed, trying not to think, trying to let my thoughts drift, trying to fall asleep…but it wasn’t working. It kept coming back, the darkness, the thoughts I didn’t want to have, the things I didn’t want to remember…. They haunted me.
She dropped the baby on his head. That’s why he was the way he was. As a newborn, he had been fine. I left for work every day and kissed him on the nose. I said, “’til the morrow, my son.” and laughed a fine laughed and left. One day, an average day, I kissed him on his soft little nose, I bade him to the morrow and I left. A few hours later, I came home and my baby was no where in sight.
“Meredith, where is the baby?” I said.
Just like that he dropped the package. He suddenly wasn’t sure what was inside, but judging by the fact that it sounded like it was ticking at him, it couldn’t be good. It had started when he picked it up, and even though it was now on the ground, the noise continued.
The connection dropped. Again.
I hate it when that happens.
I’m just chatting with a friend about bananas and how they’re good and a great source of potassium, and then, suddenly…dropped. Cut off. Just like that.
It’s irritating, to say the least.
I wish I had a better internet connection.
Hate it.
There are a few things that I left behind. Maybe I dropped them. Maybe i didn’t.
right from the start
I should have known, I told myself
should have known.
how could something ever seem so perfect?
how could I ever be this happy?
because I’m leaving for a brand new city on the ocean
and how could it be,
could it really be meant to be?
dropped on the floor and scattered into pieces, the truth broke and seeped across the white porcelain tile. This was a mess that would take a lot more than a paper towel to clean.
i dropped my ball. my ball that has been with me from the start. my ball. i lost it along the way some how. how could i have dropped it
He didn’t know why he did. He also wasn’t quite sure what it was he was letting go of. He just knew he couldn’t hold on any more, and he didn’t want to. At first he was guilty. He wondered what would happen if he had always held on. Then he felt release. It was gone. Whatever it was.
I’ve dropped things.
But like all mistakes in life
It’s about picking up the pieces.
Sometimes you can glue it back together –
And other times you
Make something new –
As for my preference, I prefer the latter. It’s usually more true.
Gravity is an amazing thing. In my class the other day we were talking about how no one really notices the effect it has or when it is put into action. When something is dropped and the way it falls straight down. Its fascinating.
I dropped my head. I couldn’t pick it up. It took me five years to figure out that I was an orangutang. My genetics told me otherwise. When I went to the doctor, he told me to make sure that my body was completely shaved, otherwise the pump would not work. I had to find a homeless man to shave me.
Dropped. Dropped the bomb. Dropped the biggest piece of news you’ll hear your entire life. Perhaps some may see “popping” the question as one of these bombs. For some, this is an explosive life altering statement.
Once upon a time there lived a man with clumsy fingers. He was always dropping everything he picked up. One day, as he was walking down the beachfront, he picked up a small shell. Naturally, it tumbled from his hands. It was picked up a small child, who took it and ran off with a smile. He was glad for his clumsiness that day.
his pen dropped to the floor as the boy hear the first gunshot. he saw his teacher fall to the ground and a pool of blood form benieth her head.
I once dropped a can of soup on my pinkie toe. It really, really, really fucking hurt. I yelled a little, picked up the can and proceeded to eat the contents for lunch. Somewhat satisfying.
falling from a great hight.
a broken heart.
rain.
clouds in the sky.
plane.
life in general.
let down over and over again.
Tiredness.
Finishing!
Dropped out of high school, just lounging around at 15 dollar an hour pay. What a chill lifestyle, seriously, it is so much simpler than going to college and working off loans. essentially like rent you experine
i dropped you. just like that. it was simple, and easy. and i didn’t think it would be effortless.
but somehow, it was. it was like.. you didn’t even exist anymore. like you were just a figment of my imagination, something i made up in a dream.
but maybe you actually were? maybe you were just a dream.
or a nightmare.
i dropped the ball. i never felt a metaphor for fitting for my life at the moment. there was nothing that could have been more equated. it rolled down the wet street, collecting remnants of fall leaves before eventually dissapearing, camoflouging itself into collections of the sewer.
i dropped my pencil. My stomach dropped when i went on the rollercoaster. what is that noise? ? it’s annoisingggg meee!!!!
The glass fell and shattered.
She supposed she should do something about it, really, about all the glittering shards lying on the floor. That’s what one did, wasn’t it? Picked up the pieces and threw them in the trash and moved on with one’s life?
But she wasn’t the one who dropped it in the first place.
He dropped his pants. She dropped hers, too. They stood on opposite ends of the room, heads cocked, squinting, staring. He would have walked to her but he didn’t have it in him to make the next move. She would have crossed that line to where he was standing, but she had too much to lose. The clock ticked audibly, and one of them sighed.
I dropped something. Not my faith, but my ability to understand my faith. I believe it is still there, sitting on the ground. Realistically, I just need to pick it up, and dust it off. It doesnt leave, it stays. You have to agree to move.
fall hurt death destruction construction construe misconstrue mislead love hut fail dying kill dead soul heart love
I dropped the plate I was carrying, sending food flying all along the walls, floor, and ceiling. As exasperated as I was, my kitchen had never looked so colorful. Maybe I’d keep it this way.
i cnotwrton s steits sslow
the ball again, Ethan. When don’t you drop it? You never had any fuckin’ balls in the first place, haha. That’s what they say to him, okay. That’s what the pretty sweetheart has to deal with day in and day out, so why is it that no one can let up on him for five seconds? Why doesn’t anyone understand?
i dropped my pencil on the desk. it rolled until the end but just before it fell, i grabbed it. like a bar trick played on me at an irish pub in midtown by an authentic and classy irishman, i grabbed it just before it hit the ground. that doesn’t make sense… the bartender caught i just as it left his hand. like he mean to do it.
Dropped. That’s what happened to me. I fell into his arms and he caught me with his heart. Then he let me fall. I don’t know why. His hand fit perfectly into mine. His eyes twinkled like stars in the deep night sky. Still, he dropped my live and shooed me out of existance. Still, I just want an answer as to why. Why would you let me fall? Let me pour my tears out in the middle of the night over someone like you? I don’t even know why I tried to give you my heart, somehow I knew you’d only let it fall. Now I’m going to fall- not in love like I did before. I’m falling out of love and away from you.