I came to oneword.com today, just like I have every day for the last two weeks. I expected to see a new word, but all I got was a flashback to the one I saw yesterday.
once i had a flashback. boom, it happened so fast. immediately i was taken to another place. another place in my mind. i experienced my experiences. and i wanted it to happen more often.
I can’t believe that the only way movies and plays can simulate flash backs is dark rooms and feather effects… Like we wouldn’t know if one thing came before another with a simple scene change?
He sat there, stunned. The flashback had been too real, too close for comfort. Carefully lifting a shaking hand up to his face, he covered his eyes, taking in the darkness, forcing himself to relax.
oNE OF THE MOST SCARY THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO ME was when I thought I was having an acid flashback. It was a migraine. I started to feel dizzy and my vision went hazy at the edges, like the screen when Scooby Do has a dream. One eye started to pound and I started to sweat. I thought I was dying. I was getting ready to go to the shops, May was about 3 years old. I put her in the pram and walked to the chemist. Everything looked like jelly, just like an acid trip.
Every flashback lately has been of all the times I could have made a move. All the times I wanted to kiss you, to put my hands on your hips, hold you and feel that connecion. Flashback, to all the times you took my breath away.
the other day i had a flashback of my childhood. i was in a park with my little brother and a random kid. then we ran into a group of gangsters. the random kid was taunting them and they decided to chase us.
I’ve only had a few flashbacks in my life. They’re always rewarding, whether pleasant or not. They take me back to a time when I understood things differently. They allow me to relearn everything I’ve learned since that original experience. Flash me back, please.
In the opening flashback, the boy next to her reached over and took her hand. She was flustered, and flattered; how does one deal with an unexpected hand-holding? Unfortunately, the moment was blown a few seconds later when the girl sitting next to him discovered his errant move – as the next scene started in the film, popcorn flew all over her from the box upended over his head.
A foggy memory brought upon by something new, which will be the foggy memory in the future. But can I remember the first foggy memory? Is that possible?
I’m tired of the flashbacks I constantly have about the layoffs at work. Seeing my coworkers faces as they are escorted out. Awaiting my fate. Belongings being bagged and carted out. Watching the people and place I care about face the unknown.
flashback:
I am eight, or ten, or something like that, young and cute and chubby.
I am permitted, just this once, to stay up late with my mother and watch the movie she rented: Spirited Away.
It makes me cry.
Watching it today, I remember this, and I wish that my mother were alive to watch it with me.
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I came to oneword.com today, just like I have every day for the last two weeks. I expected to see a new word, but all I got was a flashback to the one I saw yesterday.
once i had a flashback. boom, it happened so fast. immediately i was taken to another place. another place in my mind. i experienced my experiences. and i wanted it to happen more often.
The drugs I took sent me to worlds of fantasy. The flashbacks from my childhood were too much to bear without medicating myself.
I can’t believe that the only way movies and plays can simulate flash backs is dark rooms and feather effects… Like we wouldn’t know if one thing came before another with a simple scene change?
He sat there, stunned. The flashback had been too real, too close for comfort. Carefully lifting a shaking hand up to his face, he covered his eyes, taking in the darkness, forcing himself to relax.
thinking back my mind spews random thoughts that concede with the action currently controlling my senses, and i forget how bad this is for me.
oNE OF THE MOST SCARY THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO ME was when I thought I was having an acid flashback. It was a migraine. I started to feel dizzy and my vision went hazy at the edges, like the screen when Scooby Do has a dream. One eye started to pound and I started to sweat. I thought I was dying. I was getting ready to go to the shops, May was about 3 years old. I put her in the pram and walked to the chemist. Everything looked like jelly, just like an acid trip.
Every flashback lately has been of all the times I could have made a move. All the times I wanted to kiss you, to put my hands on your hips, hold you and feel that connecion. Flashback, to all the times you took my breath away.
the other day i had a flashback of my childhood. i was in a park with my little brother and a random kid. then we ran into a group of gangsters. the random kid was taunting them and they decided to chase us.
I’ve only had a few flashbacks in my life. They’re always rewarding, whether pleasant or not. They take me back to a time when I understood things differently. They allow me to relearn everything I’ve learned since that original experience. Flash me back, please.
In the opening flashback, the boy next to her reached over and took her hand. She was flustered, and flattered; how does one deal with an unexpected hand-holding? Unfortunately, the moment was blown a few seconds later when the girl sitting next to him discovered his errant move – as the next scene started in the film, popcorn flew all over her from the box upended over his head.
A foggy memory brought upon by something new, which will be the foggy memory in the future. But can I remember the first foggy memory? Is that possible?
It’s not like I can replay the tape. It’s stuck to my medulla oblongata. I hate my past. Just like I hate what I don’t know about the future.
My life is a blur. Oh… recordings of my past. How convenient. Just as I’m dangling here on the edge of the Empire State Building top floor.
I’m tired of the flashbacks I constantly have about the layoffs at work. Seeing my coworkers faces as they are escorted out. Awaiting my fate. Belongings being bagged and carted out. Watching the people and place I care about face the unknown.
flashback:
I am eight, or ten, or something like that, young and cute and chubby.
I am permitted, just this once, to stay up late with my mother and watch the movie she rented: Spirited Away.
It makes me cry.
Watching it today, I remember this, and I wish that my mother were alive to watch it with me.