I am flailing. My arms, my legs, they fly underneath me, around me. It can be uncomfortable, but only if you think about it. Nobody cares; I don’t care. I am flailing.
I can feel her, so cold, flailing inside.
So cold and empty.
She screams and I can’t bear to hear her.
So desperate and alone.
Why won’t she leave?
Why can’t I help?
Someone save us from this monster.
flailing winds empty of boxes where men and women and souls down streets left empty of children the bleak winter snows are like our souls not falling straight down but the slightest wind flailing their faces sans teeth and smiles. What will this flailing bring to us who have been left? What will the fall of all these things bring to us, bring to pass, bring to an end? What ever will come of this. Whatever will come. Whatever will. Whatever.
flopping around and getting a good flail on, and the next thing you know you’ve knocked the glasses at someone’s face and everyone is look all angry like. sorry for ruining thanksgiving again everyone. My bad.
I do not know what this word means, even after looking it up. First I thought it was failing and I immediately had a little stitch in the chest, weird, huh? How being confronted can hurt so much
flailing down in a spiral until i hit something soft and dark and warm because it’s just the bed. I was dreaming and I’m not falling at all. Just flailing in the dark.
They could see him flailing in the ocean. He said he could swim but the sea kept pulling him. He shouted “Help”! A speed boat caught up with him. A diver jumped into the icy depths and hauled him aboard. He was so relieved that he cried.
The girl was flailing on the school bus and almost got in trouble by doing, but she shouldn’t get in trouble at all because other kids told her to do it so then she would get expelled from school because the kids don’t like her but she is the
Her arms were flailing in the wind as she stuck her body out the window to dry. Today was a good day, so unlike all the others. One at the beach where she spent her time forgetting her troubles and remembering what it felt like to smile and laugh so much her heart began to feel as though it would burst. This was anything but love.
Without any warning, Bobby went flying into the air. His arms were flailing and his feet were floating in directions that he didn’t know were possible. Bobby was flying. He was living the dream of every child. Gone were the days of jumping off the couch only to land on the cushions below. Gone were the days of staring up at the roof and wondering “what if.” This was “what if.” He was doing it. He was flying. And he never felt more alive.
And without any warning, Bobby went flailing into the air. His arms were waving around as if he was waving to crowds of people admiring him. He wasn’t thinking. He didn’t even know what was going on around him. He just knew he was flying. And it felt so good. Living the dream that every child does growing up. The days of jumping off the bed or looking up at the roof and wondering “what if” were over.
Her arms were flailing,
rapid
waves crash, closing in around her
over her, the dark water holds her
smothers her… covers her.
When she was six, her mother beat her with a wooden spoon.
The spoon broke on her back.
It left stinging red welts the next day.
For some reason, this is the only thought going through her mind.
This is her last moment alive.
She felt safe knowing that this is how it would all end.
Her arms were flailing, rapid
waves closed in around her
over her
she felt safe knowing that this is how it would all end.
When she was six, her mother beat her with a wooden spoon.
For some reason, this is the only thought going through her mind.
This is her last moment alive.
my arms are flailing as i try to get the attention of the coast guard. can they see me from the helicopter? when the boat capsized, i thought our rescue would be quick. there seem to be so many boats around. why didn’t any of them come to our rescue?
i was flailing through the air at six flags. i had just gone on my first roller coaster ride. i felt exhilarated, like i could actually fly. it would be awesome if i could do that every day. i would just fly to my friends houses and fly to school every day. i wonder if they would have to have roads in the sky if kids could fly.
Emma Grace grinned. The other little girl, (funny, but her name is Emma as well) flailed her arms around, kicking madly in the 12 foot deep pool. She looked remarkably like a water bug, skipping across the water, arms waving. Other swimmers, in Emma Grace’s lane, watched in amusement. They loved the little girl, but GOODNESS, does she EVER need to learn to swim correctly!
Flailing is something done when there ought to be some other action applied to a situation, but one is unable to place or locate said action, so the wild swinging of one’s arms and -sometimes- head is applied in its place For instance, when a spark lands in your hair at a music concert and there is no one nearby with a fire extinguisher.
Emma Grace grinned. The other little girl, (funny, but her name is Emma as well) flailed her arms around, kicking madly. Other swimmers, in Emma Grace’s lane, watched in amusement. They loved the little girl, but GOODNESS, do they EVER need to learn to swim correctly!
Flailing again. I am still flailing, though not to the same extent as the last time that I wrote under the dominion of this word. Flail, flail. It rhymes with quail, after all…
because i didn’t knew what it means i had to look it up in the dictionary, i am romanian, anyways, i am very stressed when my little girl does that because she can hurt herself. or hurt her brother, which is somehow worst, ’cause they would both be crying and scared and unhappy and loud and i would feel like i have no control of the situation and i love them both so!
“STOP FLAILING.”
He didn’t.
“Seriously, dude, you’re gonna whack someone in the–”
“HEY!”
“–oh, shit. Sorry, Kelly.” He stopped.
“Watch where you’re putting those gangly limbs of yours!”
“Sorry, it’s just–sometimes I just need to–”
“God damn it, man, I TOLD you to stop.”
Her arms flailed about the water crashing over her even as she tried to suck in air. Instead she choked, thrashing about. Her hair caught around her neck,a nd made her feel as though she were being choked by someone, rather than just drowning. ‘This must be what dying feels like…’
I never heard of the word before. And so it puzzles me. Flailing. It sounds like failing. Is this what I’m doing right now? Couldn’t be. It rather would mean the opposite. So, I’m flailing. I’m doing great and I won’t let anyone or anything, or any word let me down. I’m flailing yes, and nobody will keep me from it.
As I fell down, flailing, sixty thousand feet above the ground, my life flashed before me.
I had an epiphany of my short sad life and the glorious life I could’ve had
I saw her gibbering excitedly and flailing her arms. I knew it had to be something about that stupid actor again, the one she’s been obsessed with for the past year. God help me, I didn’t want to know.
I tugged at my line one final time and a being broke the water’s surface, backlit by the heavy sun above as it flailed into the air before slamming against the warm boardwalk. this magikarp was mine.
she stood in the balcony. He couldn’t see her. It was too crowded. The people pushed him forward. She was trying to tell him something. Trying to warn him. It was too late. He was amidst the crowd now, getting pushed forward, into the action. Her voice began to get louder. Her arms were flailing.
It was no hope. He was gone.
I was flailing, aimlessly through my life, unaware of where I was headed. It wasn’t even as if anything had happened recently to make me more than usually thingy. But all the same, thingy I was. I was lost. And what’s worse, I knew it.
I was flailing on the beach. BecauseI got washed up. I can breath out of water but I can’t really move. I can sort of flap my flippers around, and bash my tail up and down on the sand, and if really try /I can roll over so that my belly is in the air. But when I did that I immediately regretted it because now the whole weight of me was bearing down on my back bone and all the mucus from my mouth and nose is running back down my throat.
I swam in a crisp, wintery ocean. The waves lapped and bobbed me amongst the current. My heart, my damn heart was so heavy. I carried nothing but pain. I could survive this. I could drop my heart to the bottom.
I do not know what this word means however maybe if i looked it up in the dictionary i might understand the meaning of this word but untill then it’s not going to happen. I am too lazy to look it up in a dictionary because the dictionary is upstairs.
Hah! flailing in the dark is an appropriate way to describe what I’m doing right now…though I don’t know why I thought of it that way…
Andrew lifted his chin, took a breath of blanket stifled air, and went back to work.
I am flailing. My arms, my legs, they fly underneath me, around me. It can be uncomfortable, but only if you think about it. Nobody cares; I don’t care. I am flailing.
Arms Flailing
helpless
in control of everything, but nothing
Submissive to the life that he must live.
yet still he reluctantly chooses to live it
i stopped flailing. i let myself drown.
I can feel her, so cold, flailing inside.
So cold and empty.
She screams and I can’t bear to hear her.
So desperate and alone.
Why won’t she leave?
Why can’t I help?
Someone save us from this monster.
flailing winds empty of boxes where men and women and souls down streets left empty of children the bleak winter snows are like our souls not falling straight down but the slightest wind flailing their faces sans teeth and smiles. What will this flailing bring to us who have been left? What will the fall of all these things bring to us, bring to pass, bring to an end? What ever will come of this. Whatever will come. Whatever will. Whatever.
flopping around and getting a good flail on, and the next thing you know you’ve knocked the glasses at someone’s face and everyone is look all angry like. sorry for ruining thanksgiving again everyone. My bad.
I do not know what this word means, even after looking it up. First I thought it was failing and I immediately had a little stitch in the chest, weird, huh? How being confronted can hurt so much
flailing down in a spiral until i hit something soft and dark and warm because it’s just the bed. I was dreaming and I’m not falling at all. Just flailing in the dark.
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They could see him flailing in the ocean. He said he could swim but the sea kept pulling him. He shouted “Help”! A speed boat caught up with him. A diver jumped into the icy depths and hauled him aboard. He was so relieved that he cried.
her lungs fought the water
and her arms swam desperately
for the right to inhale
but the ocean, lonely and
desperate itself, mistook it all
for an embrace.
The girl was flailing on the school bus and almost got in trouble by doing, but she shouldn’t get in trouble at all because other kids told her to do it so then she would get expelled from school because the kids don’t like her but she is the
i am flailing
you know what i am
i hear it from everyone
it still stings
to hear it from you
because
you are real
you count
you matter
and
i lose my footing when i lose you
Her arms were flailing in the wind as she stuck her body out the window to dry. Today was a good day, so unlike all the others. One at the beach where she spent her time forgetting her troubles and remembering what it felt like to smile and laugh so much her heart began to feel as though it would burst. This was anything but love.
Without any warning, Bobby went flying into the air. His arms were flailing and his feet were floating in directions that he didn’t know were possible. Bobby was flying. He was living the dream of every child. Gone were the days of jumping off the couch only to land on the cushions below. Gone were the days of staring up at the roof and wondering “what if.” This was “what if.” He was doing it. He was flying. And he never felt more alive.
And without any warning, Bobby went flailing into the air. His arms were waving around as if he was waving to crowds of people admiring him. He wasn’t thinking. He didn’t even know what was going on around him. He just knew he was flying. And it felt so good. Living the dream that every child does growing up. The days of jumping off the bed or looking up at the roof and wondering “what if” were over.
Her arms were flailing,
rapid
waves crash, closing in around her
over her, the dark water holds her
smothers her… covers her.
When she was six, her mother beat her with a wooden spoon.
The spoon broke on her back.
It left stinging red welts the next day.
For some reason, this is the only thought going through her mind.
This is her last moment alive.
She felt safe knowing that this is how it would all end.
Her arms were flailing, rapid
waves closed in around her
over her
she felt safe knowing that this is how it would all end.
When she was six, her mother beat her with a wooden spoon.
For some reason, this is the only thought going through her mind.
This is her last moment alive.
my arms are flailing as i try to get the attention of the coast guard. can they see me from the helicopter? when the boat capsized, i thought our rescue would be quick. there seem to be so many boats around. why didn’t any of them come to our rescue?
i was flailing through the air at six flags. i had just gone on my first roller coaster ride. i felt exhilarated, like i could actually fly. it would be awesome if i could do that every day. i would just fly to my friends houses and fly to school every day. i wonder if they would have to have roads in the sky if kids could fly.
Emma Grace grinned. The other little girl, (funny, but her name is Emma as well) flailed her arms around, kicking madly in the 12 foot deep pool. She looked remarkably like a water bug, skipping across the water, arms waving. Other swimmers, in Emma Grace’s lane, watched in amusement. They loved the little girl, but GOODNESS, does she EVER need to learn to swim correctly!
Flailing is something done when there ought to be some other action applied to a situation, but one is unable to place or locate said action, so the wild swinging of one’s arms and -sometimes- head is applied in its place For instance, when a spark lands in your hair at a music concert and there is no one nearby with a fire extinguisher.
Emma Grace grinned. The other little girl, (funny, but her name is Emma as well) flailed her arms around, kicking madly. Other swimmers, in Emma Grace’s lane, watched in amusement. They loved the little girl, but GOODNESS, do they EVER need to learn to swim correctly!
Flailing again. I am still flailing, though not to the same extent as the last time that I wrote under the dominion of this word. Flail, flail. It rhymes with quail, after all…
because i didn’t knew what it means i had to look it up in the dictionary, i am romanian, anyways, i am very stressed when my little girl does that because she can hurt herself. or hurt her brother, which is somehow worst, ’cause they would both be crying and scared and unhappy and loud and i would feel like i have no control of the situation and i love them both so!
“STOP FLAILING.”
He didn’t.
“Seriously, dude, you’re gonna whack someone in the–”
“HEY!”
“–oh, shit. Sorry, Kelly.” He stopped.
“Watch where you’re putting those gangly limbs of yours!”
“Sorry, it’s just–sometimes I just need to–”
“God damn it, man, I TOLD you to stop.”
i do not know, is it like beating or something like that, or turning, rolling?
Her arms flailed about the water crashing over her even as she tried to suck in air. Instead she choked, thrashing about. Her hair caught around her neck,a nd made her feel as though she were being choked by someone, rather than just drowning. ‘This must be what dying feels like…’
I never heard of the word before. And so it puzzles me. Flailing. It sounds like failing. Is this what I’m doing right now? Couldn’t be. It rather would mean the opposite. So, I’m flailing. I’m doing great and I won’t let anyone or anything, or any word let me down. I’m flailing yes, and nobody will keep me from it.
As I fell down, flailing, sixty thousand feet above the ground, my life flashed before me.
I had an epiphany of my short sad life and the glorious life I could’ve had
I saw her gibbering excitedly and flailing her arms. I knew it had to be something about that stupid actor again, the one she’s been obsessed with for the past year. God help me, I didn’t want to know.
I tugged at my line one final time and a being broke the water’s surface, backlit by the heavy sun above as it flailed into the air before slamming against the warm boardwalk. this magikarp was mine.
Misspelling. Id rather write about failing. I’m going to run out of time. Oh well I failed to write anything about flailing.
she stood in the balcony. He couldn’t see her. It was too crowded. The people pushed him forward. She was trying to tell him something. Trying to warn him. It was too late. He was amidst the crowd now, getting pushed forward, into the action. Her voice began to get louder. Her arms were flailing.
It was no hope. He was gone.
“H-help!” she yelled, the salty water splashing into her mouth. “C-c-can’t swim! P-please!” she struggled to shout, shivering and spluttering.
I was flailing, aimlessly through my life, unaware of where I was headed. It wasn’t even as if anything had happened recently to make me more than usually thingy. But all the same, thingy I was. I was lost. And what’s worse, I knew it.
I was flailing on the beach. BecauseI got washed up. I can breath out of water but I can’t really move. I can sort of flap my flippers around, and bash my tail up and down on the sand, and if really try /I can roll over so that my belly is in the air. But when I did that I immediately regretted it because now the whole weight of me was bearing down on my back bone and all the mucus from my mouth and nose is running back down my throat.
I swam in a crisp, wintery ocean. The waves lapped and bobbed me amongst the current. My heart, my damn heart was so heavy. I carried nothing but pain. I could survive this. I could drop my heart to the bottom.
I do not know what this word means however maybe if i looked it up in the dictionary i might understand the meaning of this word but untill then it’s not going to happen. I am too lazy to look it up in a dictionary because the dictionary is upstairs.