I was stalling for time. I knew that once he realised I was bluffing, he would not hesitate to kill me. Oh when oh when would Ben come with the reinforcements. I didn’t mind dying for the cause.. ok maybe I do mind losing my life, but if he gets away with this, then my life would be wasted for nothing.
I was stalling. I’d not done what I was supposed to do and I knew I’d get into trouble. I’d promised Year 9 I would mark their homework and instead I had spent my time playing Criminal Case. What they didn’t understand is that I simply HAD to find out who the murderer was.
I woke up late again. It was only 15 minutes until school starts and to make it worse, I had a test in my first period in science. My dad waited in the car and I ran out the door towards him. I got into the car, my mouth full with breakfast. He tried starting the car but it was stalling because it wouldn’t turn on. Great.
He was stalling the interrogation. He knew he had sinned. But what was human nature without a sin or two of its own.He pronounced the words carefully in his head. “I head nothing to do with the trafficking officer” “Honest.” He pondered on another word. “Methamphetamine”
Stalling is when you are flying a plane upwards at a angle that is too steep, the wings don’t generate enough lift so you end up falling while still pointing upwards
The group waited for me to demonstrate my latest magic trick, turning a penny into a quarter. I thought I had it, all the practice that I did. And yet, nothing was happening. I had to buy more time to make the magic come back.
He rapped his fist against his thigh, casting about for something else to say. “So, um…” he paused, kicking himself mentally. “How’s it going, anyway?”
She knew she was postponing the inevitable. She stared down at the face of someone she had once considered a friend, but is now nothing more than a thief, a liar and a fool. She was conflicted, hung up on the past, but she knew her place and what she had to do. After what seemed like an eternity, a single command was whispered past her quaking lips: “Fire.”
sometimes when i dream, i know i should wake, so i keep dreaming. stalling. before that game began this morning however, i’d had some AMAZING dreams of falling through traffic at full speed, but something about knowing it was a dream allowed me to navigate all the dangerous cars and land in a place of kissing butterflies and fantastic shapes/colors.
i cannot wait for you to decide
my revolution is worth your time
i cannot whisper these explosions into your ears anymore
for you to ignore
the crumbling-restarting
of the womanhattan project
i am tired of stalling
movement
He stalked from one side of the room to the other. He was but he wasn’t. He knew everything and nothing. He was sweating drops onto the floor. The door loomed large in his vision. He got closer, than changed his mind again. It was inevitable
I should have done it. I should have done a lot of things. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t have time, I told my self. But I did. I had so much time then.
Now, I’m here. Face up in the air. Out of sky, out of fuel, out of time. “Stall,” the voice from the console said, stall.”
What I’m doing. I guess… I don’t know what to do. Is that stalling, or waiting? I think stalling is maybe, if you know what to do, you’re going to do it, and you’re trying to take as long as possible before having to do the inevitable terrible bad thing that is making you anxious. Waiting… I think that’s different. I think waiting is… when your choice is to not do something. Not unless, and until, you can figure out how to do it ok.
Stalling. It’s a great word. But what are you actually stalling? I mean it could be anything. It could be a word or a statement or an object or really anything. Anything can be. For instance, this entire time I’ve been stalling an actual use of the word.
Curled up in the fatty folds of my own sloth-like uncertainty, I cannot move. I don’t even know where I would go if I could. The wind swoops down like a flock of birds, overwhelming my hunched-over frame with insistent whispers of time. I fear so many things. I fear these gusts will carry me away before I figure out where to escape to. I remain still and hope for a sign.
I didn’t want you to leave. I only got to talk to you this one time each week. I needed to keep you around because your presence makes me week better. I stalled for as long as I could, but it wasn’t long ever. It was never long enough. You left, and my life went back to darkness. “7 days,” I whisper to myself, “till I see you again.”
Stalling on the I-80 blown out of your mind in a turbocharged WRX while your buddy is smoking a joint in the passenger seat and a cop sits in his car behind you is one hell of ride
stalling is the traffic light that blockades plunging of endeavours,
the clouds curl to the front of the sun, persons sustain gloomy clevers,
knowing that she is true, contemplating if she is not, forward we move
comprehending reality, soaking in negligence, adapting to the grove-
the grove in the road is one that cannot be repainted,
the more we try to exasperate a new turn with our own color paint,
the more we faint,
the more we faintly scratch,
best for all, is to detach from ignorance and cling to realities.
I feel like I’m always stalling around with work because I’m scared of the outcome. My mind comes up with reason why I cannot do something. Other times it’s just the feeling of discomfort, or fear an
Stalling. It’s what you do when you want to avoid confronting an issue. Maybe it’s what people do to avoid hearing something they don’t want to hear. I usually don’t stall much, but you make me feel like I should.
waiting around for something to happen. Jill really wants something from John but John is stalling tyo keep her around for more time. John apparently has a rush on Jjill
Stalling is something that I don’t have time for in this world so concerned with movement, progress, success. Life is essentially a comprehensive blueprint with everything plotted, regardless of the obstacles. It is irrelevant. We all do it to ourselves, set these expectations of where we should be relative to where we are, how we want it all to end. Like a story book, it all must progress There is no time for nothing else, and being frozen would be the ultimate punishment, stagnant, not waiting, just existing. It’s what we all fear, being on the quiz show as the timer ticks down , 10, 9, 8 but having no answer on our lips, stuttering, watching staring, inept, and incompetent and significant as we realize that we have nothing to contribute, nowhere to go, nothing to give. Though we hit the buzzer, thinking, plotting, believing that we would be ready ,we are not, and so we fall, stunned, and leave as losers. Stalling allows for this possibility, allows time to consider this possibility, and so cannot be allowed because what will we do, I do when I realize that I have nothing to give.
I’m stalling. I was going to write about something really good, but I’m stalling and that is how I end up writing about nothing. But I’m going to break that habit and come up with some good ideas and get cracking. Because I do want to be a writer even though it is hard.
It seems every second of the day I’m putting something off. Constantly procrastinating to the point of complacency. It’s a shame, but some how I can’t stop stalling.
It’s funny you mention this, computer, as this might be exactly to the point. You keep stalling. Everyday it happens. Lately I can’t seem to get a thing done. Doesn’t it matter to you?
Trying to keep something from happening. I stall constantly. I’m stalling right now. You cannot stall forever. You must keep on moving. People will do what they want regardless.
She got close and closer to her prey she was not going to be stalling the inevitable. She wanted him to fell both pain and pleasure as she she devoured him. He smiled as she stepped behind him, almost as if he was the one setting the trap for her. He spun quickly grabbing her in his arms holding her tight as he got her off balanced and then he placed a long hard kiss on her lips and as she was dazed by this sudden turn of events. He took a moment to sink his teeth into her neck. Proving to everyone in the room that he was the master of the game and that she would now be nothing but another one of his many conquests. But just then as he thought he had won he felt the burning pain in his chest as he reached he hand down to feel the stake she had pressed into his heart. She was good he thought. far better than the rest.
He backpedaled quickly, talking about some visit he took to San Francisco last summer, still trying to stall his way out of the big question. His girlfriend’s father loomed over him, slowly creeping closer, as if the man would wring the boy’s neck if he got close enough to reach.
when you are supposed to do something and you do other things to get out off doing it like f you are supposed to clean your room but you start to do something
I stood stalling outside the door. I didn’t want to be here. I hated horses. “Are you ready?” a young woman asked stepping towards me. I didn’t answer. I was sure I would give some horrible sarcastic remark. It wasn’t my fault my dad loved horses! Why did I have to ride them too
Stalling is vehicles, stop running because of an overload on the engine.
I was stalling for time. I knew that once he realised I was bluffing, he would not hesitate to kill me. Oh when oh when would Ben come with the reinforcements. I didn’t mind dying for the cause.. ok maybe I do mind losing my life, but if he gets away with this, then my life would be wasted for nothing.
I was stalling. I’d not done what I was supposed to do and I knew I’d get into trouble. I’d promised Year 9 I would mark their homework and instead I had spent my time playing Criminal Case. What they didn’t understand is that I simply HAD to find out who the murderer was.
I woke up late again. It was only 15 minutes until school starts and to make it worse, I had a test in my first period in science. My dad waited in the car and I ran out the door towards him. I got into the car, my mouth full with breakfast. He tried starting the car but it was stalling because it wouldn’t turn on. Great.
My fuel-efficient automobile could barely make it without stalling.
My car stalled at the crossroad.
the car is stalled because of an overload of the engine
the boy stalled when he saw a dead body on the ground
He was stalling for time.
He was stalling the interrogation. He knew he had sinned. But what was human nature without a sin or two of its own.He pronounced the words carefully in his head. “I head nothing to do with the trafficking officer” “Honest.” He pondered on another word. “Methamphetamine”
Stalling. Staying in one place? The inability to move? No idea…
Stalling. I was stalling the teacher while my friend grabbed the cookie jar. Does that work?
Stalling is when you are flying a plane upwards at a angle that is too steep, the wings don’t generate enough lift so you end up falling while still pointing upwards
“You’re stalling, love.”
His voice was low, rough, containing just the slightest bit of affection.
“You’re stalling!” He said.
The group waited for me to demonstrate my latest magic trick, turning a penny into a quarter. I thought I had it, all the practice that I did. And yet, nothing was happening. I had to buy more time to make the magic come back.
He rapped his fist against his thigh, casting about for something else to say. “So, um…” he paused, kicking himself mentally. “How’s it going, anyway?”
The look she gave him was mild. “It’s going.”
She knew she was postponing the inevitable. She stared down at the face of someone she had once considered a friend, but is now nothing more than a thief, a liar and a fool. She was conflicted, hung up on the past, but she knew her place and what she had to do. After what seemed like an eternity, a single command was whispered past her quaking lips: “Fire.”
sometimes when i dream, i know i should wake, so i keep dreaming. stalling. before that game began this morning however, i’d had some AMAZING dreams of falling through traffic at full speed, but something about knowing it was a dream allowed me to navigate all the dangerous cars and land in a place of kissing butterflies and fantastic shapes/colors.
i cannot wait for you to decide
my revolution is worth your time
i cannot whisper these explosions into your ears anymore
for you to ignore
the crumbling-restarting
of the womanhattan project
i am tired of stalling
movement
He stalked from one side of the room to the other. He was but he wasn’t. He knew everything and nothing. He was sweating drops onto the floor. The door loomed large in his vision. He got closer, than changed his mind again. It was inevitable
I should have done it. I should have done a lot of things. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t have time, I told my self. But I did. I had so much time then.
Now, I’m here. Face up in the air. Out of sky, out of fuel, out of time. “Stall,” the voice from the console said, stall.”
Stalling…
What I’m doing. I guess… I don’t know what to do. Is that stalling, or waiting? I think stalling is maybe, if you know what to do, you’re going to do it, and you’re trying to take as long as possible before having to do the inevitable terrible bad thing that is making you anxious. Waiting… I think that’s different. I think waiting is… when your choice is to not do something. Not unless, and until, you can figure out how to do it ok.
Stalling. It’s a great word. But what are you actually stalling? I mean it could be anything. It could be a word or a statement or an object or really anything. Anything can be. For instance, this entire time I’ve been stalling an actual use of the word.
Curled up in the fatty folds of my own sloth-like uncertainty, I cannot move. I don’t even know where I would go if I could. The wind swoops down like a flock of birds, overwhelming my hunched-over frame with insistent whispers of time. I fear so many things. I fear these gusts will carry me away before I figure out where to escape to. I remain still and hope for a sign.
I didn’t want you to leave. I only got to talk to you this one time each week. I needed to keep you around because your presence makes me week better. I stalled for as long as I could, but it wasn’t long ever. It was never long enough. You left, and my life went back to darkness. “7 days,” I whisper to myself, “till I see you again.”
Stalling on the I-80 blown out of your mind in a turbocharged WRX while your buddy is smoking a joint in the passenger seat and a cop sits in his car behind you is one hell of ride
Cody glanced at his watch. He knew Rebecca was stalling for time; why else would an otherwise prompt girl be twenty minutes late?
stalling is the traffic light that blockades plunging of endeavours,
the clouds curl to the front of the sun, persons sustain gloomy clevers,
knowing that she is true, contemplating if she is not, forward we move
comprehending reality, soaking in negligence, adapting to the grove-
the grove in the road is one that cannot be repainted,
the more we try to exasperate a new turn with our own color paint,
the more we faint,
the more we faintly scratch,
best for all, is to detach from ignorance and cling to realities.
I feel like I’m always stalling around with work because I’m scared of the outcome. My mind comes up with reason why I cannot do something. Other times it’s just the feeling of discomfort, or fear an
Stalling. It’s what you do when you want to avoid confronting an issue. Maybe it’s what people do to avoid hearing something they don’t want to hear. I usually don’t stall much, but you make me feel like I should.
waiting around for something to happen. Jill really wants something from John but John is stalling tyo keep her around for more time. John apparently has a rush on Jjill
Stalling is something that I don’t have time for in this world so concerned with movement, progress, success. Life is essentially a comprehensive blueprint with everything plotted, regardless of the obstacles. It is irrelevant. We all do it to ourselves, set these expectations of where we should be relative to where we are, how we want it all to end. Like a story book, it all must progress There is no time for nothing else, and being frozen would be the ultimate punishment, stagnant, not waiting, just existing. It’s what we all fear, being on the quiz show as the timer ticks down , 10, 9, 8 but having no answer on our lips, stuttering, watching staring, inept, and incompetent and significant as we realize that we have nothing to contribute, nowhere to go, nothing to give. Though we hit the buzzer, thinking, plotting, believing that we would be ready ,we are not, and so we fall, stunned, and leave as losers. Stalling allows for this possibility, allows time to consider this possibility, and so cannot be allowed because what will we do, I do when I realize that I have nothing to give.
I’m stalling. I was going to write about something really good, but I’m stalling and that is how I end up writing about nothing. But I’m going to break that habit and come up with some good ideas and get cracking. Because I do want to be a writer even though it is hard.
It seems every second of the day I’m putting something off. Constantly procrastinating to the point of complacency. It’s a shame, but some how I can’t stop stalling.
It’s funny you mention this, computer, as this might be exactly to the point. You keep stalling. Everyday it happens. Lately I can’t seem to get a thing done. Doesn’t it matter to you?
Trying to keep something from happening. I stall constantly. I’m stalling right now. You cannot stall forever. You must keep on moving. People will do what they want regardless.
She got close and closer to her prey she was not going to be stalling the inevitable. She wanted him to fell both pain and pleasure as she she devoured him. He smiled as she stepped behind him, almost as if he was the one setting the trap for her. He spun quickly grabbing her in his arms holding her tight as he got her off balanced and then he placed a long hard kiss on her lips and as she was dazed by this sudden turn of events. He took a moment to sink his teeth into her neck. Proving to everyone in the room that he was the master of the game and that she would now be nothing but another one of his many conquests. But just then as he thought he had won he felt the burning pain in his chest as he reached he hand down to feel the stake she had pressed into his heart. She was good he thought. far better than the rest.
Kein Schritt fprwärst,
kein Schritt zurück. –
wie festgeklebt
Zu schnell
und doch viel zu langsam
du kommst nicht weg.
zu viel –
und viel zu wenig
wie eine Mauer im Weg
He backpedaled quickly, talking about some visit he took to San Francisco last summer, still trying to stall his way out of the big question. His girlfriend’s father loomed over him, slowly creeping closer, as if the man would wring the boy’s neck if he got close enough to reach.
when you are supposed to do something and you do other things to get out off doing it like f you are supposed to clean your room but you start to do something
I stood stalling outside the door. I didn’t want to be here. I hated horses. “Are you ready?” a young woman asked stepping towards me. I didn’t answer. I was sure I would give some horrible sarcastic remark. It wasn’t my fault my dad loved horses! Why did I have to ride them too