Parachutes often serve as a good metaphor for salvation, standing in place of a person or hobby or revelation that keeps us from falling or, I guess, falling as fast? So, really, parachutes are kind of a depressing metaphor.
Ryan opened his eye. It was dark and something was pulling at his shoulders. A throbbing pain in his head. He looked around, wrenching his head around and saw that his parachute, being pulled by the wind, was pulling at his shoulders, pulling him inch by inch across the wet grass.
Those days were great days, the wind blowing, the sun shining, and the person whom I loved and loved me back next to me.
It wasn’t easy for me to embark on such a venture, but she was an adventurer, one who loved me.
we landed during the night. no one had trouble like the last time. the moonless sky was lit with stars. we hoped they meant our luck would hold. we moved silently across the open field, low to the ground, focused on the edge of the forest in front of us.
I looked down and my insides rose up into my throat. I wasn’t too fond of heights, and sky diving wasn’t my idea of a honeymoon, but my wife is adventurous and adamant as well. So hear I was, about to tug at the cord of a parachute, which could just about decide whether I lived long enough to be on my flight home in the evening.
It was like jumping out of an high-flying airplane without a safety net, this parenting thing. You just couldn’t predict a thing, except that you were going faster than was strictly comfortable.
you just parachuted your way into my heart, he said, is that even a word, parachuted? it’s cheesy but it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told her. and she loves him anyway so, what the heck, she’ll take what she can get.
She relies on them as much as they used to rely on her, and Petunia used to grant them the opportunity to prove their trust in her when she jumped off a roof or from a tree branch. There was usually some shrieking (mainly- no, mostly from Elijah) and always wide extended arms ready to grab the burden of her when she reconnected with the earth and fell messily into them. Regardless of one swelling ankle or bruised elbow, Petunia laughed. She laughed and thought of Elijah’s shouts and Meredith’s arms as the wings that would lift her up again and bring her back to the pinnacle of whatever height she found herself perched on.
She falls again and again and lets them carry her back to earth.
While walking through the gully we encountered and object falling from the sky. It was part of a parachute and it landed on the ground a few feet away from us. We looked in the area to see if we could locate the person who had used it , and we came up empty handed.
He felt like he was hurtling through the sky without a parachute. Going far too fast. Everyone else was way up there, drifting slowly down, taking time to enjoy the view.
Sometimes you need to dream up a sort of parachute to land from somewhere over the rainbow back into reality. As some once sang…”with the stars of Leo Shining, well, that’s a long way to fall into the blue.”
parachute is an air resistant structure. very useful for saving our lives while falling from height, reducing acceleration of attached body , causing smooth landing of body , keeping body safe. parachute has to be made up of strong material so it’ll not get teared and air
won’t pass through it and it won’t resist air. commonly made up of rubber.
Ahh!!! parachute
this word reminds me a lot .
my last trip to vegas
i want to do this parachute gliding from the child hood and the day came when i was in vegas
it was in one world “AWESOME”
one last fall
no parachute
all over
but not really
there was a bed at the bottom
a little door to godhood
he wasn’t scared
he was terrified
godhood was a small price to pay for victory
or so he thought
The parachute was very colourfull and there was a lot of lines and components on it. Jack stared at it and wondered whether the parachute was anything like the way he remembered it. Strangely enough, it wasn’t. It looked a lot more fancy, more ominous and you wouldn’t believe it but that parachute looked a little crazier than what he’d usually see in the pictures.
As I fell to the ground, I panicked. Something was wrong. I pulled the string attached to the pack strapped to me, frantically. I didn’t know what to do next as I missed that day in class, but I did know this: My parachute was failing and I was about to greet my death.
I can’t seem to catch myself after you left. You were my parachute. You kept me balanced and stopped me from crashing when I’ve fallen into holes I couldn’t get out of.
I don’t know what he had been expecting; you could hardly call it a parachute in the sad state it was in. Holes gaped in the fabric, singed around the edges from some long-forogtten fire. Or bullet holes? We weren’t sure anymore. He certainly wasn’t either. Confusion clouded his eyes when we placed it, folded up in as neat a pile as we could muster, into his veiny, shaking hands.
even a little question like “What are your hobbies?” will start an existential crisis because
I don’t even do the things I like anymore,
because
I don’t even like the things I like anymore.
instead of all the artsy ambition-y things I’ve been interested in,
I have to say, honestly, I spend my free time blogging and sleeping. just blogging and sleeping.
how hard you gonna hit this wall
Her skirt billowed out below her like a parachute as she fell, though it did noting to slow her descent down the rabbit hole. When she did hit ground, she hit it hard and mercilessly. Though unbroken, it was a time before she was able to catch her breath and right herself.
My mom decided it was best if I learned how to use a parachute. I didn’t expect it at first, but I decided to go along with it. After all, it might be fun. Unless, however, you factored in the probability of the parachute malfunctioning and me plummeting into the ground below and dying like a squished pancake.
The parachute not opening! That’s my biggest fear… Maybe not. Maybe it’s the jumping out of the plane. Yes, that’s it, jumping out of a plane. Just couldn’t do it.
“USE THE PARACHUTE!!!!!” they screamed over the alarm. It was the only chance of getting out of the jet without getting killed. So i jumped….and woke up from the nightmare. There was the smell of pancakes in the air. The fresh smell of pancake batter is always exciting. Then as if on call, my nine year old sister rammed into the room like a bull. “SO YA COMING?” she chirped. Oh how I love sunday pancakes.
by Brittany (you can call me britt if you want or don't i do not care whatsoever) on 10.13.2013
While you’re drowning in your mind
I’m falling into my regret
with only a burning parachute to hold me back
in the form of a cigarette in my hand
you might never resurface
but at least I have my lungs
How can I trust you, locked behing my back. You could be smirking in there for all I know – plotting my downfall, giggling in the irony. How do I know you? Am I to throw caution to the wind and let you carry me blindly? I do not trust you to watch over me…
Parachutes often serve as a good metaphor for salvation, standing in place of a person or hobby or revelation that keeps us from falling or, I guess, falling as fast? So, really, parachutes are kind of a depressing metaphor.
Ryan opened his eye. It was dark and something was pulling at his shoulders. A throbbing pain in his head. He looked around, wrenching his head around and saw that his parachute, being pulled by the wind, was pulling at his shoulders, pulling him inch by inch across the wet grass.
“So what happens if you go off a cliff,” he said. “Does a parachute come out of the trunk, and we glide down like butterflies?”
She put the last bag into the sidecar trunk and closed the hatch. “No,” she replied. “We scream and plummet and die.”
“Oh. Guess I figured you’d have a way around that.”
“I do,” she said. “It’s called ‘be smarter than the cliffs.’ Which given our conversation so far, means I’ll be the only one driving.”
They had just glided over the sea and it was time to take that jump with his parachute along with all of his comrades. So many lives lost.
My mind is like a parachute, it works better when it’s open? Fuck that my mind works better tumbling in free fall towards its own demise.
Those days were great days, the wind blowing, the sun shining, and the person whom I loved and loved me back next to me.
It wasn’t easy for me to embark on such a venture, but she was an adventurer, one who loved me.
we landed during the night. no one had trouble like the last time. the moonless sky was lit with stars. we hoped they meant our luck would hold. we moved silently across the open field, low to the ground, focused on the edge of the forest in front of us.
I looked down and my insides rose up into my throat. I wasn’t too fond of heights, and sky diving wasn’t my idea of a honeymoon, but my wife is adventurous and adamant as well. So hear I was, about to tug at the cord of a parachute, which could just about decide whether I lived long enough to be on my flight home in the evening.
It was like jumping out of an high-flying airplane without a safety net, this parenting thing. You just couldn’t predict a thing, except that you were going faster than was strictly comfortable.
It cribs the racks of smear
in rear care
for the tough titters of the teeth
you just parachuted your way into my heart, he said, is that even a word, parachuted? it’s cheesy but it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told her. and she loves him anyway so, what the heck, she’ll take what she can get.
She relies on them as much as they used to rely on her, and Petunia used to grant them the opportunity to prove their trust in her when she jumped off a roof or from a tree branch. There was usually some shrieking (mainly- no, mostly from Elijah) and always wide extended arms ready to grab the burden of her when she reconnected with the earth and fell messily into them. Regardless of one swelling ankle or bruised elbow, Petunia laughed. She laughed and thought of Elijah’s shouts and Meredith’s arms as the wings that would lift her up again and bring her back to the pinnacle of whatever height she found herself perched on.
She falls again and again and lets them carry her back to earth.
While walking through the gully we encountered and object falling from the sky. It was part of a parachute and it landed on the ground a few feet away from us. We looked in the area to see if we could locate the person who had used it , and we came up empty handed.
Dandelions. A pursed lip and a whisper, they swim in the waves of the air as they floated, like parachutes, attached to nothing but the wind.
Off the cliff. Off the plane. Of the plain of existence.
I parachute out of my own mind, into my subconscious, into my world of dreams.
IVe never heard of dreams like mine before. So real, so morbid.
So complete.
Id be fine if i never came back.
Id be fine if my parachute snapped.
He felt like he was hurtling through the sky without a parachute. Going far too fast. Everyone else was way up there, drifting slowly down, taking time to enjoy the view.
Sometimes you need to dream up a sort of parachute to land from somewhere over the rainbow back into reality. As some once sang…”with the stars of Leo Shining, well, that’s a long way to fall into the blue.”
I’d been so sure of this when we decided to do it – even when we were taking off. But now, staring down into oblivion, doubts began tugging at me.
“These..these parachutes are safe…aren’t they?”
The instructor looked as though she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes.
“‘Course they are. We wouldn’t bring you all the way up ‘ere just to kill ya.”
“Ready?”
float fall air rush thread hold spitfire yellow no that
parachute is an air resistant structure. very useful for saving our lives while falling from height, reducing acceleration of attached body , causing smooth landing of body , keeping body safe. parachute has to be made up of strong material so it’ll not get teared and air
won’t pass through it and it won’t resist air. commonly made up of rubber.
Ahh!!! parachute
this word reminds me a lot .
my last trip to vegas
i want to do this parachute gliding from the child hood and the day came when i was in vegas
it was in one world “AWESOME”
one last fall
no parachute
all over
but not really
there was a bed at the bottom
a little door to godhood
he wasn’t scared
he was terrified
godhood was a small price to pay for victory
or so he thought
The parachute was very colourfull and there was a lot of lines and components on it. Jack stared at it and wondered whether the parachute was anything like the way he remembered it. Strangely enough, it wasn’t. It looked a lot more fancy, more ominous and you wouldn’t believe it but that parachute looked a little crazier than what he’d usually see in the pictures.
so far
so very very far
she wouldn’t jump
she knew better than that
no parachute
the wind tugged her down
but she wouldn’t jump
He jumped off the skies, the pull of gravity grabbing around his ankles. He plummeted downwards… If only he had a parachute…
SPLAT!
As I fell to the ground, I panicked. Something was wrong. I pulled the string attached to the pack strapped to me, frantically. I didn’t know what to do next as I missed that day in class, but I did know this: My parachute was failing and I was about to greet my death.
I wish for a parachute
Pure white
Serene
Like an albatross’s wing
To take me out from the muddled fall
That my life is,
And always has been.
I can’t seem to catch myself after you left. You were my parachute. You kept me balanced and stopped me from crashing when I’ve fallen into holes I couldn’t get out of.
I don’t know what he had been expecting; you could hardly call it a parachute in the sad state it was in. Holes gaped in the fabric, singed around the edges from some long-forogtten fire. Or bullet holes? We weren’t sure anymore. He certainly wasn’t either. Confusion clouded his eyes when we placed it, folded up in as neat a pile as we could muster, into his veiny, shaking hands.
ballooning of the fabric
filled with air
carrying us on
silky, free flowing
wistful
delightful
i had not expected much
that day
i didn’t care at all if the sky
was gray
i jumped out and began to plummet
into a place no one knows
is sad and full of no hope
did i have a parachute or would i fall
into a world that wont let you stand tall
even a little question like “What are your hobbies?” will start an existential crisis because
I don’t even do the things I like anymore,
because
I don’t even like the things I like anymore.
instead of all the artsy ambition-y things I’ve been interested in,
I have to say, honestly, I spend my free time blogging and sleeping. just blogging and sleeping.
how hard you gonna hit this wall
Falling.
Blue.
Clouds.
All I can see, it swirls around me.
Engulfs me.
I want to give in.
But I need to pull the string, let myself float down safely.
My mind and vision blur.
I pull the string.
But nothing happens.
Her skirt billowed out below her like a parachute as she fell, though it did noting to slow her descent down the rabbit hole. When she did hit ground, she hit it hard and mercilessly. Though unbroken, it was a time before she was able to catch her breath and right herself.
Parachute. Parachute. Pra-frikkin-chute.
Did I even have it?
It didn’t matter. With a loud YOLO, my friend pushed me down.
His laughs echoed and echoed and echoed, ringing, buzzing, resounding.
The last thing I heard.
My mom decided it was best if I learned how to use a parachute. I didn’t expect it at first, but I decided to go along with it. After all, it might be fun. Unless, however, you factored in the probability of the parachute malfunctioning and me plummeting into the ground below and dying like a squished pancake.
The parachute not opening! That’s my biggest fear… Maybe not. Maybe it’s the jumping out of the plane. Yes, that’s it, jumping out of a plane. Just couldn’t do it.
“USE THE PARACHUTE!!!!!” they screamed over the alarm. It was the only chance of getting out of the jet without getting killed. So i jumped….and woke up from the nightmare. There was the smell of pancakes in the air. The fresh smell of pancake batter is always exciting. Then as if on call, my nine year old sister rammed into the room like a bull. “SO YA COMING?” she chirped. Oh how I love sunday pancakes.
While you’re drowning in your mind
I’m falling into my regret
with only a burning parachute to hold me back
in the form of a cigarette in my hand
you might never resurface
but at least I have my lungs
How can I trust you, locked behing my back. You could be smirking in there for all I know – plotting my downfall, giggling in the irony. How do I know you? Am I to throw caution to the wind and let you carry me blindly? I do not trust you to watch over me…