Flailing? What? Where am I supposed to go with this? I…, What? What is flailing? And, why? Is this what I am to describe? Ironically, it is me that is flailing? Unable to fully determine what it is that I am to write about despite the instructions on the previous page? Er….
Falling. The current is too strong. I’m not sure I’ll make it. Regulator is still working. Thank god. where is the divemaster? He’ll find me. It’ll be ok. I can’t see Peter. I’m sure he’s fine. This is fine. I have enough air. I’ll just let it take me and when it calms down I’ll surface nice and calmly.
natalie
dashing
to the wrong corners
never did I blame you
my subject is coarse, my tone mild
we burn on deliverance, but cringe at it’s chance
my escapade
we don’t truly know how it happened
bunny rabbit down the hole of the ball-jointed doll
we turn up different each time
whacked down with injuries, bruises and caverns
in all the wrong places today
I’m safe, I’m free
prospects are high
on the edges of dew drops
waiting
till all the clips stop playing
all the horns object
She flailed her arms as if to stop herself, or slow herself. Her hair blew out wildly behind her. But she didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. She just kept falling.
She wouldn’t remember reaching the ground.
Becky
i threw my arms up in the air, but the air was what i was surrounded by, falling and flailing, crying out to no one because no one was there, in the air, but me. oh, god. i thought, i was still crying as i realized i would never pet my cat again, or start my car, or for that matter, feel the taste of an excellent kiss. oh, the ground hit hard
sara hickman
Tripping around with my hands on my eye sockets, wondering how love is so unpredictable. Wondering why I flail, why I graze my hand on you, why your poison ivy stokes me, why your whispers upend my balance, why I’m plying to your thought.
“It’s like, I’m reaching, but I’m just missing the ledge. My arms windmill as I fall and fall and fall and fall but I wake up when I hit the surface of the water. Did I survive? Did I die?”
You stroked my hair, shushing lightly. “It was just a dream, my little love– little love, little love, little love. It’s okay now, now, now, now.”
I once flailed about comic con. I looked like a autistic kid on cocaine.
Scott Massman
The water flooded my nose and mouth, my body shaking on its own. I was losing hope, my last decision was to start flailing.
anon
an open love letter to my last love begins with
Hello
like we have not met, let us introduce, now is an appropriate time for hellos and the such
and this is the reason i cannot send it out
(still, i watch the price of stamps closely, waiting for a time when it might spontaneously tempt me in)
Flailing is the new falling. You lose control. You panic. You arms and legs are scrambling for anything and everything to stop your descent. Pure panic controls your body.
as the man stepped off of the top of the building and plunged toward the ground he smiled. the wind swept through his hair, and made each piece flail. his arms on the other hand did not flail as you might expect someone who is about too die to do, but instead they were outstretched like the wings of an eagle.
Megan
i ran and flailed my arms as i tried to catch the taxi cab that was just driving away. “bastard” i muttered under my breath and looked around in the busy streets for another one. None, just my luck. I stood outside the courthouse freezing waiting for another to drive by, why hadn’t i brought a jacket i silently asked myself.
Megan
She knew she was going to fall. There was nothing below her, and she was going to fall. There had been others before her, others who had flailed as they neared the ground, but she refused. If this was going to happen, it was going to happen calmly, peacefully. If they were taking this from her, they were not going to take her serenity.
Gabs
The man was flailing as he was falling. Falling, falling, and falling. Failing, failing, and failing to survive. In mere moments he would be gone. His life taken away.
distrust,
and you are imaginary, fantasy, my dreams have been stranger in these new mornings
(your bedside has become mine, like lovers in a hospital waiting for the other to die, waking up is just a continuation, i am unused to this new reality)
Flailing? What? Where am I supposed to go with this? I…, What? What is flailing? And, why? Is this what I am to describe? Ironically, it is me that is flailing? Unable to fully determine what it is that I am to write about despite the instructions on the previous page? Er…,
Jason H.
Flailing is such a silly word. When I think of the word flailing Adventure Time immediately comes to mind. Finn, Jake, and many other characters flail their arms while dancing. Also, I think of those car dealership blow up guys.
Flailing. Falling. Reaching out to what may let you. You may never find your hold, but still you try. Ever longer. Never ending. Try as you may no one is in the abyss in which you flail. For as we were born alone, that is
Jon Jones
Oh no! I have caught the FLAILING FLU. I sneezed and sneezed and every time i would do so i would flail both of my legs and arms arms making it hard to cover up my sneeze. sadface :(
Derp
free failing through air
hair whipping back against your head
arms and legs spread wide
fingers stretched as far as your skin will permit
a feeling you will never experience again
something that only comes
when you are flailing
i don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess I’m flailing around, trying to decide where or when to end this farcical episode. It doesn’t seem to end, and as I spew out word after word I ‘flail’ to see the point.
A Flailer
I always thought Magikarp was the most useless Pokemon ever. All it does is flail around using ‘splash’ and dying in battle. Until it evolves. Then it’s badass.
On an unrelated but more important note, goodbye Aunt Jean. It seems that once again a goodbye was not something we were meant to have before you left. I’ll miss you.
Falling, failing, flailing like I’m doing write, right now. Physical movement without any sense of purpose or direction with the threat of falling. Sometimes okay to do emotionally as a means of losing some but not all control. Ultimately flailing allows self discovery and permits failure. Great word. So many meanings that evoke such vivid visual images. I’m done
Gigi
I don’t want to fail at what I want to make of my life. I just want to be happy, I can’t fail. I need this, I need to be better, and not fail. I hope I find what I’m looking for.
Carlos Ortega
I lost in this ocean of uncertainty, not sure where to turn. There’s no one to help me, no one to show me the way. I have to find it on my own. I have to be strong.
But I’m flailing. Panicking. I can’t do this on my own. I’ll fall into darkness, never again to see the light of day, the promise of anything better.
failing, hmmmmmmm i failed the test yesterday. oh no it says flailing -_-. what does flailing even mean. I think it means falling on the ground and like boogieing around…. I don’t know?
Derp
He was falsifying his arms around like crazy. She simply stood to the side staring at him in amazement. She was stupefied to watch someone make such an absolute fool of himself. But there was something about the odd smile on his face as he danced around the lot in his underwear that reminded her why she loved him.
Fallon
Sharks eating errrything in site. The end.
Anthony Alonge
the very best moments. when you get so excited that tears form in your eyes. the laughter is so strong that you can feel it get stuck in your throat. and you are left flailing any and all limbs to express the words that aren’t good enough.
i dont know what this word really means, what i first read here was failing and i dont really know why. My only guess is that unconsciously i consider i am failing in a big part of i want for my life, i don t iknow what to do anymore im really losing it but dont wanna stop fihgting.
andrea
Tripping out, tripping over, and just straight tripping.
Wiggle it, just a little bit. Or a lot, Just spazzing
I wanted to waive my hand so hard after I saw a group of penguins flailing. They were flailing so hard it reminded me of the movie “Happy Feet”.
J
It was a desperate feeling. Falling into a mud pit. Writhing around, flailing about as if I couldn’t find the footing to move forward. It was without a doubt the worst feeling to be so helpless, so frail.
Flailing? What? Where am I supposed to go with this? I…, What? What is flailing? And, why? Is this what I am to describe? Ironically, it is me that is flailing? Unable to fully determine what it is that I am to write about despite the instructions on the previous page? Er….
Falling. The current is too strong. I’m not sure I’ll make it. Regulator is still working. Thank god. where is the divemaster? He’ll find me. It’ll be ok. I can’t see Peter. I’m sure he’s fine. This is fine. I have enough air. I’ll just let it take me and when it calms down I’ll surface nice and calmly.
dashing
to the wrong corners
never did I blame you
my subject is coarse, my tone mild
we burn on deliverance, but cringe at it’s chance
my escapade
we don’t truly know how it happened
bunny rabbit down the hole of the ball-jointed doll
we turn up different each time
whacked down with injuries, bruises and caverns
in all the wrong places today
I’m safe, I’m free
prospects are high
on the edges of dew drops
waiting
till all the clips stop playing
all the horns object
following all the leads
flailing
She flailed her arms as if to stop herself, or slow herself. Her hair blew out wildly behind her. But she didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. She just kept falling.
She wouldn’t remember reaching the ground.
i threw my arms up in the air, but the air was what i was surrounded by, falling and flailing, crying out to no one because no one was there, in the air, but me. oh, god. i thought, i was still crying as i realized i would never pet my cat again, or start my car, or for that matter, feel the taste of an excellent kiss. oh, the ground hit hard
Tripping around with my hands on my eye sockets, wondering how love is so unpredictable. Wondering why I flail, why I graze my hand on you, why your poison ivy stokes me, why your whispers upend my balance, why I’m plying to your thought.
“It’s like, I’m reaching, but I’m just missing the ledge. My arms windmill as I fall and fall and fall and fall but I wake up when I hit the surface of the water. Did I survive? Did I die?”
You stroked my hair, shushing lightly. “It was just a dream, my little love– little love, little love, little love. It’s okay now, now, now, now.”
You’re echoing
(?).
I flail more frantically as you hold me.
I once flailed about comic con. I looked like a autistic kid on cocaine.
The water flooded my nose and mouth, my body shaking on its own. I was losing hope, my last decision was to start flailing.
an open love letter to my last love begins with
Hello
like we have not met, let us introduce, now is an appropriate time for hellos and the such
and this is the reason i cannot send it out
(still, i watch the price of stamps closely, waiting for a time when it might spontaneously tempt me in)
Flailing is the new falling. You lose control. You panic. You arms and legs are scrambling for anything and everything to stop your descent. Pure panic controls your body.
as the man stepped off of the top of the building and plunged toward the ground he smiled. the wind swept through his hair, and made each piece flail. his arms on the other hand did not flail as you might expect someone who is about too die to do, but instead they were outstretched like the wings of an eagle.
i ran and flailed my arms as i tried to catch the taxi cab that was just driving away. “bastard” i muttered under my breath and looked around in the busy streets for another one. None, just my luck. I stood outside the courthouse freezing waiting for another to drive by, why hadn’t i brought a jacket i silently asked myself.
She knew she was going to fall. There was nothing below her, and she was going to fall. There had been others before her, others who had flailed as they neared the ground, but she refused. If this was going to happen, it was going to happen calmly, peacefully. If they were taking this from her, they were not going to take her serenity.
The man was flailing as he was falling. Falling, falling, and falling. Failing, failing, and failing to survive. In mere moments he would be gone. His life taken away.
distrust,
and you are imaginary, fantasy, my dreams have been stranger in these new mornings
(your bedside has become mine, like lovers in a hospital waiting for the other to die, waking up is just a continuation, i am unused to this new reality)
Flailing? What? Where am I supposed to go with this? I…, What? What is flailing? And, why? Is this what I am to describe? Ironically, it is me that is flailing? Unable to fully determine what it is that I am to write about despite the instructions on the previous page? Er…,
Flailing is such a silly word. When I think of the word flailing Adventure Time immediately comes to mind. Finn, Jake, and many other characters flail their arms while dancing. Also, I think of those car dealership blow up guys.
Flailing. Falling. Reaching out to what may let you. You may never find your hold, but still you try. Ever longer. Never ending. Try as you may no one is in the abyss in which you flail. For as we were born alone, that is
Oh no! I have caught the FLAILING FLU. I sneezed and sneezed and every time i would do so i would flail both of my legs and arms arms making it hard to cover up my sneeze. sadface :(
free failing through air
hair whipping back against your head
arms and legs spread wide
fingers stretched as far as your skin will permit
a feeling you will never experience again
something that only comes
when you are flailing
i don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess I’m flailing around, trying to decide where or when to end this farcical episode. It doesn’t seem to end, and as I spew out word after word I ‘flail’ to see the point.
I always thought Magikarp was the most useless Pokemon ever. All it does is flail around using ‘splash’ and dying in battle. Until it evolves. Then it’s badass.
On an unrelated but more important note, goodbye Aunt Jean. It seems that once again a goodbye was not something we were meant to have before you left. I’ll miss you.
Falling, failing, flailing like I’m doing write, right now. Physical movement without any sense of purpose or direction with the threat of falling. Sometimes okay to do emotionally as a means of losing some but not all control. Ultimately flailing allows self discovery and permits failure. Great word. So many meanings that evoke such vivid visual images. I’m done
I don’t want to fail at what I want to make of my life. I just want to be happy, I can’t fail. I need this, I need to be better, and not fail. I hope I find what I’m looking for.
I lost in this ocean of uncertainty, not sure where to turn. There’s no one to help me, no one to show me the way. I have to find it on my own. I have to be strong.
But I’m flailing. Panicking. I can’t do this on my own. I’ll fall into darkness, never again to see the light of day, the promise of anything better.
I need help, but there’s no one there to help me…
My arms began flailing as I fell off the cliff, further down I fell with no hope of being saved. I was going to die and I knew it. What a thought.
flailing into a bliss of nothingness may lead you to believe who you are but often you may find yourself falling into bad habbits of bewilderment.
im flailing away, and this isn’t very fun, ive drinking and drunked too much rum
everyday seems wasted flailing away all money on drinks and
My windmill motion causes a draft that blows leaves from my neighborhood into the next
Housewives make a game of it and lean outside their window with pool nets to see who can catch the most
failing, hmmmmmmm i failed the test yesterday. oh no it says flailing -_-. what does flailing even mean. I think it means falling on the ground and like boogieing around…. I don’t know?
He was falsifying his arms around like crazy. She simply stood to the side staring at him in amazement. She was stupefied to watch someone make such an absolute fool of himself. But there was something about the odd smile on his face as he danced around the lot in his underwear that reminded her why she loved him.
Sharks eating errrything in site. The end.
the very best moments. when you get so excited that tears form in your eyes. the laughter is so strong that you can feel it get stuck in your throat. and you are left flailing any and all limbs to express the words that aren’t good enough.
i dont know what this word really means, what i first read here was failing and i dont really know why. My only guess is that unconsciously i consider i am failing in a big part of i want for my life, i don t iknow what to do anymore im really losing it but dont wanna stop fihgting.
Tripping out, tripping over, and just straight tripping.
Wiggle it, just a little bit. Or a lot, Just spazzing
I just so a guy wave at his co-worker in a flailing manner. I thought he was doing his best Harlem Shake.
Air.
A loss for words.
Just you and particles of evaporated H2O.
Your arms, loose.
I wanted to waive my hand so hard after I saw a group of penguins flailing. They were flailing so hard it reminded me of the movie “Happy Feet”.
It was a desperate feeling. Falling into a mud pit. Writhing around, flailing about as if I couldn’t find the footing to move forward. It was without a doubt the worst feeling to be so helpless, so frail.