I find a bit
I find a bit of sick pleasure in holding the door for people that are still far away to force them into an awkward run.
Every pleasure has been so momentary, has left your hand empty, depleted, drained. And every pleasure has brought you more depression, sorrow, pulled you down. But yet there is a hope of some pleasure, some unknown, unseen pleasure. Dreaming of a pleasure that makes you weak, that holds you back.
That awkward moment when you are actually pulling a push door.
That awkward moment when you’re walking out of a room like a model and your bag hooks on the door handle!
Freedom from the pleasure is the real pleasure. Pain does not bind you; it is the pleasure that binds you. And the bondage is painful. If you are bound, you are not bound by misery, you are bound by your craving, your pleasure.
The worst part about calling in for a sick day is the pressure of knowing you only have one shot to do the “I am sick” voice.
I am sick of people lying to me. I have asked 3 people for the time today and they have all told me something different
It must be awkward for gay people when their Sat-Nav tells them to go straight..
I am sick and tired of people telling me to turn off lights to save the environment. I tried it once and I nearly killed a cyclist.
I hate it when people are holding a device capable of using Google and they ask me stupid questions.