The man sat at his desk. A tiny cubical, there where thousands like it in this building alone. He stared out the widow longingly, wishing for something more.
Humans occupy. We occupy and spread out in a certain living space, claiming it as our own. We occupy the air that surrounds us at any given moment. We occupy time, time periods, years, months, days, hours, minutes, every second we’re alive. Humans occupy everything we come into contact with.
why was she still there. all she was doing was occupying her time, trying to keep her mind at bay. she didn’t want to think about what had happened. about what he had told her, about what everyone had told her. it was kind of a lot to take in when everyone you thought loved you told you that you had some major personality issues (read: are a bitch).
There was no more room in the theatre for Mariska when she arrived, and instead was forced to crwod in with thousands of other sweating bodies as they jumped and moved to the music. For Mari, this was almost another form of tortue. Her claustrophobia was what had p
There is no vacancy here. No room for anything else. My mind is occupied with too many things for anything else to squeeze in, but it does. I’m at maximum, beyond the most I can ever think, but it keeps coming. Sometimes I just want to scream it all away, but I can’t.
My occupancy is not demeaning. It is the fruit of labour. A need of the times. A badge of honour. Grant me something greater and I’d do it, I’d do it. I’d do it.
someone living in a home, space. Filling a space with something but it is nothing until you make it something important. Full occupancy means the space is full. Make sure it is something that should be filling the space – not wasting space. Think about this is my mind and making sure that my mind is filled with important information and my day is centered around the things that are important to me vs. the things on a list. Write down different lists – to do is efficient and important. But I need to determine what is important to me and have that list at the top of all my pages. What is important to me. Family, being happy, creating a financially sound environment and being healthy. hmmm, not one of those items included how important it is for me to do 100 things of “to dos”. However, the to dos are important too otherwise the financial sound aspect isn’t going to get done.
It was a single occupancy room and it was pretty basic. There was a ratty old bed with a blue comforter on top, a wooden table peppered by old cigarette burns, a tv with the remote superglued down to the table, a shower that leaked and a Bible. Nothing to get excited about. In fact, for most folks the sight of this room would of sparked nightmares. For Angela, the room was beautiful.
I would like to know what is occupying my mind. Is there a difference between “thinking” and “awareness”? Between “thoughts” and “awareness”? I guess occupant and occupancy are different words. The occupancy rate in my head seems rather high sometimes.
we have room for two more, and that’s it. but there’s three of us. well, decisions are a bitch, eh? Oh, come on, give us a break. Nope. Here’s five dollars! No thanks, Dr. Evil….
The occupancy rate of Twoheart Towers is now eighty-three–eighty-one more than the building can bear.
Deep in the caverns of the seventh floor, a furnace sputters out. The residents all feel an immediate chill.
Within moments, it is too much to bear. The Towers spit them out, until only two remain. The doors click shut, lock, and they are they, in the lobby, behind enormous glass windows. He turns to her. Without waving goodbye, they take the stairs up, up, to the fortieth floor, where there is warmth and coffee and the slightest vibration of a happy, purring building.
I walked in, straight faced. The man behind the counter looked at me like he’d never seen another human being in his entire life.
“I need to see the back file room,” I said.
“Uh…..Sorry.” His voice was squeaky and scared, maybe I had something on my face.
He swallowed.
Cleared his throat.
“No can do,” he finally replied.
I stared at him, dead in the eye.
“Now.”
He let me in.
Zie waited in line. Zie had to go. Seriously, hir bladder was about to burst. Just how long did it take one person to pee? And why did three other people just now also have to pee?
Honestly, I’m not sure about the meaning of this word. It’s one of those words that get mixed up with everything else, especially on mornings when I try to focus on turning my brain back into English instead of Hebrew, translating my own thoughts. It gets difficult.
The hotel sector, every year is faced with an occupancy level that is caused for concern. Much work is needed in getting the maximum value for the presence of the tourist to our country if we are to made the industry viable.
I don’t know, the first thing that comes to my mind are bathrooms. Strange but true indeed. Maybe i love bathrooms. Maybe, but i like them non occupied. It sounds to formal that word. I dont like occupancy.
We make up Occupancy Rules because otherwise we are just living and there isn’t anything to keep our minds distracted, and we die when we are not distracted enough. So we tell our children, children, don’t walk on this grass, children be quiet after 10, and then our children go to college to discuss academically how and why and what the rules are and they get jobs so they can pay for their children to go to college and we all stay sufficiently busy
The stated maximum occupancy of elevators around the world is a great source of amusement to my children. Usually, we are amazed that 8 people are supposed to fit into the tiny space that we 4 take up. The best was the elevator in Paris which clearly stated that the occupancy of the elevator was 4, but the hotel had posted a handwritten sign which requested that no more than 2 use the elevator at a time. My husband joked that the hotel received many American and German guests. Do two French people equal one American? My daughter decided it was true after walking around for the day.
The occupancy capacity of elevators around the world is a great source of amusement to my children. The best was the elevator in Paris which clearly stated that the occupancy of the elevator was 4, but the hotel had posted a sign which requested that no more than 2 use the elevator at a time. My husband joked that the hotel received many American and German guests. Do two Americans equal one Frenchman? My daughter decided it was true after walking around for the day.
Isabelle walked quickly to the restroom, trying not to pee herself. She hoped it wasn’t taken. She knocked on the door loudly three times without a response, relieved she went in. There before here was Kai and a girl, doing the dirty on the wall. She laughed, walking out. “Lock the door, darling.”
High in an apartment in mid town Manhattan Josie took occupancy of her grandmother’s living room and began to write. Aided by only coffee and single malt whiskey, she pieced together the story that would unravel Politis and shake the foundations of Wall Street. All the while she felt nervous, terrified by the consequences of her truth. She lost weight and lived in a state of constant paranoia. Josie was worried they would track her down before she was done.
It was not until the second winter has passed and the snow melted from the edges of the balcony that she typed the last words and printed out the final copy. She tapped the pages firmly against the kitchen table so they formed a neat block. She slipped the wad into a manila envelope and held it to her thumping chest.
Occupancy. What is there to say about occupancy? Right now there is much room to be occupied in my brain. Wait. That makes me sound stupid. Scratch that. I need to empty my brain and make room for new things. The things currently there are no longer of any interest to me. Out you go. Space available. Vacant, for interesting things only.
clear, glinting droplets drip
slide, drool down the glass
as the stare out windows —
stare out there — staring at
the world out there. squeaky
doors peel open they
pack themselves in like steers,
steers staring while I steer.
This room has a maximum occupancy of ME, but often, many other people spill in from their lives. They toss in their own misfortunes and concerns and problems and words, words, words. They fill my space with sound. I have to shout over them and myself and my own words to hear myself. It’s hard. You can’t just tell people to go away–they’ll never come back when you need them.
Maximum occupancy. Church. We totally do not, do never reach the max. Why is religion dying out? Is it because we are lazy? Does modern day technology have anything to do with that? We are losing our will to be ourselves, to be creative.
The occupancy rate of the planet earth is dwindling. Proliferating species. Humans, insects, birds, bats, cats, mice, swarming and growing and consuming and devouring. Earth only comes in one package. How much longer can we occupy?
I feel like I don’t live here anymore. People think I do, because this is the shell I’ve occupied for only 24 years, but I can’t really say i live here anymore. This isn’t home. I’m constantly looking above, floating outside myself. No occupants here.
The hotel prided itself on almost one hundred percent occupancy. If it were not for that one room on the top floor, and that unfortunate incident the previous summer, they would have a perfect record, but there was no hope for that now until the trial was completed, and the police took down all of their yellow tape.
The occupancy of the current job search is not demanding. So people are still searching for jobs but cannot get one. They are searching anywhere from classified ads or through the internet.
But I don’t think they qualified because they lack the skills needed or he job is too far. People got educated, yes, and even go to college. But the employers needed experience which the graduates don’t have.
You can say that my mind is constantly occupied. It is constantly filled with all kind of thoughts, whether they are positive, negative or just plain silly. They incessantly ring around my head, sometimes tormenting me or sometimes entertaining me. Sometimes I like this characteristic of myself, sometimes I abhor it.
‘No available occupancy,’ read the note on the door. Kyle frowned, knowing very well that position was available, as the person who had been filling it had demised just a short while ago.
the occupancy sign said that they were empty. He pulled into the lot, gripping my hand tightly. When we pulled into the parking space he glanced at me and smiled nervously. “I love you..you know that right?”
“I’m sorry sir, we’re at full occupancy. The clown fesitval is in town this week.”
Just then, a clown came rushing through the lobby. I’ve got great news! Sale on wigs at JCP!
We looked sadly at the clown. J.C. Penny’s used to be a stalwart company that’s reduced itself to re-branding gimmicks to get by.
The man sat at his desk. A tiny cubical, there where thousands like it in this building alone. He stared out the widow longingly, wishing for something more.
Humans occupy. We occupy and spread out in a certain living space, claiming it as our own. We occupy the air that surrounds us at any given moment. We occupy time, time periods, years, months, days, hours, minutes, every second we’re alive. Humans occupy everything we come into contact with.
why was she still there. all she was doing was occupying her time, trying to keep her mind at bay. she didn’t want to think about what had happened. about what he had told her, about what everyone had told her. it was kind of a lot to take in when everyone you thought loved you told you that you had some major personality issues (read: are a bitch).
There was no more room in the theatre for Mariska when she arrived, and instead was forced to crwod in with thousands of other sweating bodies as they jumped and moved to the music. For Mari, this was almost another form of tortue. Her claustrophobia was what had p
There is no vacancy here. No room for anything else. My mind is occupied with too many things for anything else to squeeze in, but it does. I’m at maximum, beyond the most I can ever think, but it keeps coming. Sometimes I just want to scream it all away, but I can’t.
My occupancy is not demeaning. It is the fruit of labour. A need of the times. A badge of honour. Grant me something greater and I’d do it, I’d do it. I’d do it.
squatting, occupying someones senses.
someone living in a home, space. Filling a space with something but it is nothing until you make it something important. Full occupancy means the space is full. Make sure it is something that should be filling the space – not wasting space. Think about this is my mind and making sure that my mind is filled with important information and my day is centered around the things that are important to me vs. the things on a list. Write down different lists – to do is efficient and important. But I need to determine what is important to me and have that list at the top of all my pages. What is important to me. Family, being happy, creating a financially sound environment and being healthy. hmmm, not one of those items included how important it is for me to do 100 things of “to dos”. However, the to dos are important too otherwise the financial sound aspect isn’t going to get done.
Occupancy is no clue. Didin’t I write about this yesterday? Occupancy is what my family both human and furry have in my heart.
A spot that is being used or that is no longer available. On the trip their is no more vacant spots they are all occpancy
It was a single occupancy room and it was pretty basic. There was a ratty old bed with a blue comforter on top, a wooden table peppered by old cigarette burns, a tv with the remote superglued down to the table, a shower that leaked and a Bible. Nothing to get excited about. In fact, for most folks the sight of this room would of sparked nightmares. For Angela, the room was beautiful.
I would like to know what is occupying my mind. Is there a difference between “thinking” and “awareness”? Between “thoughts” and “awareness”? I guess occupant and occupancy are different words. The occupancy rate in my head seems rather high sometimes.
His presence was like a wet towel. Heavy, useless, and festering with nasty things. One by one, they made their excuses to leave.
we have room for two more, and that’s it. but there’s three of us. well, decisions are a bitch, eh? Oh, come on, give us a break. Nope. Here’s five dollars! No thanks, Dr. Evil….
The occupancy rate of Twoheart Towers is now eighty-three–eighty-one more than the building can bear.
Deep in the caverns of the seventh floor, a furnace sputters out. The residents all feel an immediate chill.
Within moments, it is too much to bear. The Towers spit them out, until only two remain. The doors click shut, lock, and they are they, in the lobby, behind enormous glass windows. He turns to her. Without waving goodbye, they take the stairs up, up, to the fortieth floor, where there is warmth and coffee and the slightest vibration of a happy, purring building.
The house has now been sold and the new tenants are taking up occupancy tomorrow. There was so much to do but now we can hopefully move on
I walked in, straight faced. The man behind the counter looked at me like he’d never seen another human being in his entire life.
“I need to see the back file room,” I said.
“Uh…..Sorry.” His voice was squeaky and scared, maybe I had something on my face.
He swallowed.
Cleared his throat.
“No can do,” he finally replied.
I stared at him, dead in the eye.
“Now.”
He let me in.
The room was occupied, of course. Posy ought to have known that. An occupied room full of preoccupied people with preoccupied minds.
Zie waited in line. Zie had to go. Seriously, hir bladder was about to burst. Just how long did it take one person to pee? And why did three other people just now also have to pee?
Bathroom was at maximum occupancy. One.
Honestly, I’m not sure about the meaning of this word. It’s one of those words that get mixed up with everything else, especially on mornings when I try to focus on turning my brain back into English instead of Hebrew, translating my own thoughts. It gets difficult.
The hotel sector, every year is faced with an occupancy level that is caused for concern. Much work is needed in getting the maximum value for the presence of the tourist to our country if we are to made the industry viable.
I don’t know, the first thing that comes to my mind are bathrooms. Strange but true indeed. Maybe i love bathrooms. Maybe, but i like them non occupied. It sounds to formal that word. I dont like occupancy.
We make up Occupancy Rules because otherwise we are just living and there isn’t anything to keep our minds distracted, and we die when we are not distracted enough. So we tell our children, children, don’t walk on this grass, children be quiet after 10, and then our children go to college to discuss academically how and why and what the rules are and they get jobs so they can pay for their children to go to college and we all stay sufficiently busy
The stated maximum occupancy of elevators around the world is a great source of amusement to my children. Usually, we are amazed that 8 people are supposed to fit into the tiny space that we 4 take up. The best was the elevator in Paris which clearly stated that the occupancy of the elevator was 4, but the hotel had posted a handwritten sign which requested that no more than 2 use the elevator at a time. My husband joked that the hotel received many American and German guests. Do two French people equal one American? My daughter decided it was true after walking around for the day.
The occupancy capacity of elevators around the world is a great source of amusement to my children. The best was the elevator in Paris which clearly stated that the occupancy of the elevator was 4, but the hotel had posted a sign which requested that no more than 2 use the elevator at a time. My husband joked that the hotel received many American and German guests. Do two Americans equal one Frenchman? My daughter decided it was true after walking around for the day.
Isabelle walked quickly to the restroom, trying not to pee herself. She hoped it wasn’t taken. She knocked on the door loudly three times without a response, relieved she went in. There before here was Kai and a girl, doing the dirty on the wall. She laughed, walking out. “Lock the door, darling.”
High in an apartment in mid town Manhattan Josie took occupancy of her grandmother’s living room and began to write. Aided by only coffee and single malt whiskey, she pieced together the story that would unravel Politis and shake the foundations of Wall Street. All the while she felt nervous, terrified by the consequences of her truth. She lost weight and lived in a state of constant paranoia. Josie was worried they would track her down before she was done.
It was not until the second winter has passed and the snow melted from the edges of the balcony that she typed the last words and printed out the final copy. She tapped the pages firmly against the kitchen table so they formed a neat block. She slipped the wad into a manila envelope and held it to her thumping chest.
Occupancy. What is there to say about occupancy? Right now there is much room to be occupied in my brain. Wait. That makes me sound stupid. Scratch that. I need to empty my brain and make room for new things. The things currently there are no longer of any interest to me. Out you go. Space available. Vacant, for interesting things only.
clear, glinting droplets drip
slide, drool down the glass
as the stare out windows —
stare out there — staring at
the world out there. squeaky
doors peel open they
pack themselves in like steers,
steers staring while I steer.
This room has a maximum occupancy of ME, but often, many other people spill in from their lives. They toss in their own misfortunes and concerns and problems and words, words, words. They fill my space with sound. I have to shout over them and myself and my own words to hear myself. It’s hard. You can’t just tell people to go away–they’ll never come back when you need them.
Maximum occupancy. Church. We totally do not, do never reach the max. Why is religion dying out? Is it because we are lazy? Does modern day technology have anything to do with that? We are losing our will to be ourselves, to be creative.
The occupancy rate of the planet earth is dwindling. Proliferating species. Humans, insects, birds, bats, cats, mice, swarming and growing and consuming and devouring. Earth only comes in one package. How much longer can we occupy?
“Excuse me, miss, the train is at maximum occupancy.”
I am thrown from the train and no one is even slammed against the windows.
I feel like I don’t live here anymore. People think I do, because this is the shell I’ve occupied for only 24 years, but I can’t really say i live here anymore. This isn’t home. I’m constantly looking above, floating outside myself. No occupants here.
The hotel prided itself on almost one hundred percent occupancy. If it were not for that one room on the top floor, and that unfortunate incident the previous summer, they would have a perfect record, but there was no hope for that now until the trial was completed, and the police took down all of their yellow tape.
The occupancy of the current job search is not demanding. So people are still searching for jobs but cannot get one. They are searching anywhere from classified ads or through the internet.
But I don’t think they qualified because they lack the skills needed or he job is too far. People got educated, yes, and even go to college. But the employers needed experience which the graduates don’t have.
You can say that my mind is constantly occupied. It is constantly filled with all kind of thoughts, whether they are positive, negative or just plain silly. They incessantly ring around my head, sometimes tormenting me or sometimes entertaining me. Sometimes I like this characteristic of myself, sometimes I abhor it.
‘No available occupancy,’ read the note on the door. Kyle frowned, knowing very well that position was available, as the person who had been filling it had demised just a short while ago.
the occupancy sign said that they were empty. He pulled into the lot, gripping my hand tightly. When we pulled into the parking space he glanced at me and smiled nervously. “I love you..you know that right?”
“I’m sorry sir, we’re at full occupancy. The clown fesitval is in town this week.”
Just then, a clown came rushing through the lobby. I’ve got great news! Sale on wigs at JCP!
We looked sadly at the clown. J.C. Penny’s used to be a stalwart company that’s reduced itself to re-branding gimmicks to get by.