I sweat and sweat and sweat, and what does it amount to? Nothing. I literally have given my life to this team, and now that I am injured, they will have nothing to do with me. What will I do now? Who will I be? Without this I am…nothing.
He ran. Tears ran. Sweat ran. His skin was pink. His skin glowed. His cheeks glowed. He wasn’t going to stop running. He wasn’t going to stop hurting. He wasn’t going to stop being mad. But he was going to run. Because when he ran, he hurt all over, and when he hurt all over, his head felt fine.
I absolutely hate sweating. It’s one of the worse things ever. It smells and it feels weird, and it just gets in the way of what you need to do. That’s why I like swimming. When you’re in the water, you can’t feel yourself sweat because you’re already in water. There’s no need to wipe away drops of sweat from your forehead while doing your workout.
Sweat. A bead of sweat. It rolled from my forehead, gliding down the arch of my nose and hung there; tantalisingly so – if that one bead of perspiration would drop, it was all over, all of it. The last stand – six months work gone if this, this *mundane* bodily function were to give me away, blow my cover, blow this case. But what could I do? This salty drop, it had the power to change everything, and yet it physically changed nothing at all…
Heat. Excitement. Energy. All fluctuating into drops on my skin, expressing deepest desires and joys to be fulfilled. Drumming… Thumping… hearts racing and embracing. One moment of peace until it all begins. I can see it now; the trace of wetness upon skin, not only mine but others too. The moment is over, it all starts now.
It’s always the same, sweat. The slow rise of heat, breath cutting the outline of your lips, whistling passed and away as wind on beaten rock. And in the air, some kind of echo.
Sweat dripped down his face as he trudged through the desert. He thought for sure he would die soon, and then as he looked ahead squinting his eyes against the harsh rays of the sun he swore he saw a town. But it couldn’t be, it was just another mirage… wasn’t it?
it was the frost on his spine, or the terror deep rooted somewhere too far down the esophagus to entirely be sure of. Somewhere you had never even visited yourself. And that’s the strangest part of being human, yourself is just as much ingrained within the unknown as anything else.
Sweat rolled down my face, the salty tang lingering in my mouth as my muscles laboured to take another desperate step. ow could I continue, knowing what I’ve nd yet I kept on neither knowing or caring where I would end up. Just arom here, far away from here.
sweat often occurs when the body is working hard, sweat is needed to control the temperature of the body. It is often found when the body is exerting high energy, all people sweat. It your not sweating you are not working your body.
I guess sweat happens when people do lots of physical activity but it gets awkward and weird sometimes I sweat when its not even cold and that is just weird and I don’t sweat and sometimes its really hot and i don’t sweat at all. Sometimes my boyfriend sweats during sex and its really weird but its cool and then i get covered in his sweat and im like oh ok
Little beads of perspiration began to form all over his skin, tanned by the sun. Jonah stared up at the sky and uttered a sigh of relief when a gentle breeze interrupted the unrelenting heat of the day.
Though the views were nice and he was never at risk of not having something to record or take note of in his water color-stained journal, Jonah knew he was a prisoner on the ship…
Smelly. It’s extremely inconvenient but I understand why we need to have this bodily function. It’s annoying though, especially on a hot summer day when you can see sweat stands through your shirt. It’s disgusting, especially being a girl. Girl’s shouldn’t sweat…they’re supposed to be put together, clean, and smell good… right?
Sweat is disgusting. It is so smelly and embarrassing. I feel like I sweat a lot in the winter but not the summer. Some guyd sweat a disgusting amount and their shirt gets all wet. Sweat comes wth b o witch is yuck
It pools in between her eyes and makes hot trails down the ski slope of her nose. She flicks it away with a nail past needing manicured, and sloppy is second nature these days, isn’t it, the way it’s so easy to forget meals and makeup and second chances. The way she finds herself perspiring over alibis she should have never needed in the first place.
I’ve just finished my last entry on this, but I can’t help but add something as Nichole. I went through those entries, those words of happier people, the ones about sweaty palms from embarrassed, shy love. And I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d find it, if ever.
She was sitting there, her whole thigh bare, wondering, hoping, wishing. She didn’t know what was going to happen, she didn’t know if she had the courage to do what she was about to. Her fingers clutched the blade, the one that she couldn’t seem to release without seeing a drop of the sickly maroon liquid that pulsed under her skin. A cold drop of sweat glimmered on her temple like a jewel. And then she placed the steel on her skin and sliced.
ran down her face. she’d been running for a while now, the biting high desert wind cutting into bones. Her sweat felt like frozen lines on her face, her sweat staining and freezing the light material of her cotton blouse.
“It might to use the towel to wipe up the sweat like what we brought it for,” said Eric. “We knew you probably didn’t want to hang around a group of smelly, sweaty boys.”
Reminds me of the word ‘sweet.’ I wish I had a bouquet of flowers at the moment because they would sweeten the room around me. This room is a bright place but it took time. All good things take time I suppose and it’s never been so prevalent.
I started to climb, by hands aching and raw, my legs weak from the journey. And then, when my thoughts turned to how things could get no worse, the palms of my hands turned slippery with sweat.
You’re sweaty you’re sweaty and it’s gross it’s so gross which doesn’t make any sense at all, because you think it’s cute when I sweat, and I think it’s gross that you think that. Our friends laugh at us and our parents roll our eyes and on the surface I’m doing the same but inside my head and inside my heart I don’t really know what to think, because sweat is gross, always, but you’re definitely not.
It’s disgusting and makes me smell bad. But it would be hot on Tarzan. He’s so sexy. I sweat when I’m nervous sometimes, especially my hands. My feet do sometimes even when they’re cold. No one popular of famous ever seems to sweat. There was a girl on Victorious who never sweated. Sweated? is that a thing? A real word? Who knows. Sweat is disgusting unless you’re Tarzan.
The sweat of his brow and the strength of his back. Sweat is always involved. Always. No matter how easy it might look or how simple, there will be sweat. Don’t you dare think for a moment there won’t be. You need firewood? Sweat. You want dinner? Sweat. You work in an office? Sweat.
There is ALWAYS sweat.
The sun was so outraged today that he sent blistering fingers to squeeze out all the salty rainwater from everyone’s skins. I stooped, imbibed the last drops from my canteen, and let myself be squeezed some more. I was a warm, human raincloud. The heat wave is still rolling.
hot after sport, sweat is wet but not wet in the way that is soothing like water, it’s like water that has been pressed and worked through a hot body, like the fluid that carries electricity and comes out of a cooling tower. It’s not exactly dirty, but you wouldn’t want to drink it, either.
My palms were sweating. Just seeing him again makes my heart beat faster, my palm sweat, and my stomach consume butterflies. It’s been three months, you know. Three months since I’ve kissed those lips, hugged that body, and touched that face.
I don’t know what to do, what to say, or how to react. My body tenses up. Oh, how I missed him. He just grabs my hands. “I missed you.” He says as he chuckles lightly. “I missed your sweaty palms, too.” “I can’t take you back. And you know that.” I reply with a tone of anxiety and worry. “Are you sure you can’t take me back?” He smirks. He knows he’s my weakness.
“You cheated on me, Aaron.” I say as I jerk my hands back but he just tightens his grip around them. “I know. And I regret it.” He admits as he tries to lock his eyes on mine. The moisture trapped between my hands and his caused more sweat.
“No, I don’t love you anymore.” I spit out. He scoffs. “That’s a complete lie, Jess. You and I know it. C’mon, forgive me please?” He says as I finally lock my dark brown eyes with his light pale brown ones.
In that instant, I kiss his lips forgetting all the things he’s done in the past.
hard work, determination, going the distance. All require sweat. Whether it’s gatorade or powerade, Weight lifting or Cardio. Sweat is the main component. So sweat it up people,
Sweating like a pig, upon the dirt over the farm. I fall myself to pieces as I try to reach the line. I go ahead, then I turn ahead to see no one but the red tape. I run as fast as I can, and…
My palms were sweating. Just seeing him again made my heart beat faster, my palm sweat, and my stomach consume butterflies. It’s been three months, you know. Three moths since I’ve kissed those lips, hugged that body, and touched that face. I don’t know what to do, what to say, or how to react. My body tenses up. Oh, how I missed him. He just grabs my hands. “I missed you.” He says as he chuckles lightly. “I missed your sweaty palms, too.” “I can’t take you back. And you know that.” “Are you sure you can’t take me back?” He smirks. He knows he’s my weakness.
Stinky, disgusting, and personally the worst felling ever. Usually happens when you work out. Guys think it’s manly, and girls well don’t like it. Different views I guess… It’s sooo just uhhh I can’t explain it.
is something that your body lets go out of your pours when you work out or you are nervous. People that weigh more than others will give off more sweat. Sweat leads to body odor. Which smells bad. Sweat
The sweat poured from his head as he lifted the last barbel onto the machine and was getting ready to do his reps, when from the corner of his eye he saw someone drop. In that instant the sweat flew from his head as he ran to help the women who started writhing on the floor.
Disgusting, stinky, usually due to working out. Probably one of the worst feelings ever. NOT sexy and boys don’t like girls who sweat.. I think. But boys think it’s manly when they sweat. I personally think they just need a shower. :) And yeahhhhhh
I sweat and sweat and sweat, and what does it amount to? Nothing. I literally have given my life to this team, and now that I am injured, they will have nothing to do with me. What will I do now? Who will I be? Without this I am…nothing.
He ran. Tears ran. Sweat ran. His skin was pink. His skin glowed. His cheeks glowed. He wasn’t going to stop running. He wasn’t going to stop hurting. He wasn’t going to stop being mad. But he was going to run. Because when he ran, he hurt all over, and when he hurt all over, his head felt fine.
When it is really very very hot in the yoga studio, I do sweat a lot…so much drips down my entire body, off the tip of my nose, elbows and earlobes.
I absolutely hate sweating. It’s one of the worse things ever. It smells and it feels weird, and it just gets in the way of what you need to do. That’s why I like swimming. When you’re in the water, you can’t feel yourself sweat because you’re already in water. There’s no need to wipe away drops of sweat from your forehead while doing your workout.
You work hard…You indulge hard… You play hard… Its a sweet refreshing aftermath.
Sweat. A bead of sweat. It rolled from my forehead, gliding down the arch of my nose and hung there; tantalisingly so – if that one bead of perspiration would drop, it was all over, all of it. The last stand – six months work gone if this, this *mundane* bodily function were to give me away, blow my cover, blow this case. But what could I do? This salty drop, it had the power to change everything, and yet it physically changed nothing at all…
Heat. Excitement. Energy. All fluctuating into drops on my skin, expressing deepest desires and joys to be fulfilled. Drumming… Thumping… hearts racing and embracing. One moment of peace until it all begins. I can see it now; the trace of wetness upon skin, not only mine but others too. The moment is over, it all starts now.
It’s always the same, sweat. The slow rise of heat, breath cutting the outline of your lips, whistling passed and away as wind on beaten rock. And in the air, some kind of echo.
Sweat dripped down his face as he trudged through the desert. He thought for sure he would die soon, and then as he looked ahead squinting his eyes against the harsh rays of the sun he swore he saw a town. But it couldn’t be, it was just another mirage… wasn’t it?
it was the frost on his spine, or the terror deep rooted somewhere too far down the esophagus to entirely be sure of. Somewhere you had never even visited yourself. And that’s the strangest part of being human, yourself is just as much ingrained within the unknown as anything else.
Sweat rolled down my face, the salty tang lingering in my mouth as my muscles laboured to take another desperate step. ow could I continue, knowing what I’ve nd yet I kept on neither knowing or caring where I would end up. Just arom here, far away from here.
sweat often occurs when the body is working hard, sweat is needed to control the temperature of the body. It is often found when the body is exerting high energy, all people sweat. It your not sweating you are not working your body.
I guess sweat happens when people do lots of physical activity but it gets awkward and weird sometimes I sweat when its not even cold and that is just weird and I don’t sweat and sometimes its really hot and i don’t sweat at all. Sometimes my boyfriend sweats during sex and its really weird but its cool and then i get covered in his sweat and im like oh ok
Little beads of perspiration began to form all over his skin, tanned by the sun. Jonah stared up at the sky and uttered a sigh of relief when a gentle breeze interrupted the unrelenting heat of the day.
Though the views were nice and he was never at risk of not having something to record or take note of in his water color-stained journal, Jonah knew he was a prisoner on the ship…
Smelly. It’s extremely inconvenient but I understand why we need to have this bodily function. It’s annoying though, especially on a hot summer day when you can see sweat stands through your shirt. It’s disgusting, especially being a girl. Girl’s shouldn’t sweat…they’re supposed to be put together, clean, and smell good… right?
Sweat is disgusting. It is so smelly and embarrassing. I feel like I sweat a lot in the winter but not the summer. Some guyd sweat a disgusting amount and their shirt gets all wet. Sweat comes wth b o witch is yuck
It pools in between her eyes and makes hot trails down the ski slope of her nose. She flicks it away with a nail past needing manicured, and sloppy is second nature these days, isn’t it, the way it’s so easy to forget meals and makeup and second chances. The way she finds herself perspiring over alibis she should have never needed in the first place.
I’ve just finished my last entry on this, but I can’t help but add something as Nichole. I went through those entries, those words of happier people, the ones about sweaty palms from embarrassed, shy love. And I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d find it, if ever.
She was sitting there, her whole thigh bare, wondering, hoping, wishing. She didn’t know what was going to happen, she didn’t know if she had the courage to do what she was about to. Her fingers clutched the blade, the one that she couldn’t seem to release without seeing a drop of the sickly maroon liquid that pulsed under her skin. A cold drop of sweat glimmered on her temple like a jewel. And then she placed the steel on her skin and sliced.
ran down her face. she’d been running for a while now, the biting high desert wind cutting into bones. Her sweat felt like frozen lines on her face, her sweat staining and freezing the light material of her cotton blouse.
“It might to use the towel to wipe up the sweat like what we brought it for,” said Eric. “We knew you probably didn’t want to hang around a group of smelly, sweaty boys.”
Reminds me of the word ‘sweet.’ I wish I had a bouquet of flowers at the moment because they would sweeten the room around me. This room is a bright place but it took time. All good things take time I suppose and it’s never been so prevalent.
I started to climb, by hands aching and raw, my legs weak from the journey. And then, when my thoughts turned to how things could get no worse, the palms of my hands turned slippery with sweat.
You’re sweaty you’re sweaty and it’s gross it’s so gross which doesn’t make any sense at all, because you think it’s cute when I sweat, and I think it’s gross that you think that. Our friends laugh at us and our parents roll our eyes and on the surface I’m doing the same but inside my head and inside my heart I don’t really know what to think, because sweat is gross, always, but you’re definitely not.
It’s disgusting and makes me smell bad. But it would be hot on Tarzan. He’s so sexy. I sweat when I’m nervous sometimes, especially my hands. My feet do sometimes even when they’re cold. No one popular of famous ever seems to sweat. There was a girl on Victorious who never sweated. Sweated? is that a thing? A real word? Who knows. Sweat is disgusting unless you’re Tarzan.
Beads of wettness that flows from my pores.
Radiant heat that knows no more
Sign of exhaustion, but just the start
The sweat of his brow and the strength of his back. Sweat is always involved. Always. No matter how easy it might look or how simple, there will be sweat. Don’t you dare think for a moment there won’t be. You need firewood? Sweat. You want dinner? Sweat. You work in an office? Sweat.
There is ALWAYS sweat.
The sun was so outraged today that he sent blistering fingers to squeeze out all the salty rainwater from everyone’s skins. I stooped, imbibed the last drops from my canteen, and let myself be squeezed some more. I was a warm, human raincloud. The heat wave is still rolling.
hot after sport, sweat is wet but not wet in the way that is soothing like water, it’s like water that has been pressed and worked through a hot body, like the fluid that carries electricity and comes out of a cooling tower. It’s not exactly dirty, but you wouldn’t want to drink it, either.
Water slipping down your throat. Chocking. Breathing hard.
My palms were sweating. Just seeing him again makes my heart beat faster, my palm sweat, and my stomach consume butterflies. It’s been three months, you know. Three months since I’ve kissed those lips, hugged that body, and touched that face.
I don’t know what to do, what to say, or how to react. My body tenses up. Oh, how I missed him. He just grabs my hands. “I missed you.” He says as he chuckles lightly. “I missed your sweaty palms, too.” “I can’t take you back. And you know that.” I reply with a tone of anxiety and worry. “Are you sure you can’t take me back?” He smirks. He knows he’s my weakness.
“You cheated on me, Aaron.” I say as I jerk my hands back but he just tightens his grip around them. “I know. And I regret it.” He admits as he tries to lock his eyes on mine. The moisture trapped between my hands and his caused more sweat.
“No, I don’t love you anymore.” I spit out. He scoffs. “That’s a complete lie, Jess. You and I know it. C’mon, forgive me please?” He says as I finally lock my dark brown eyes with his light pale brown ones.
In that instant, I kiss his lips forgetting all the things he’s done in the past.
I love him and I can’t let him go.
He’s the only boy that’s ever made me sweat.
Sweat is hard work. It gives inspiration and the feeling of doing a job well done. It makes me proud and accomplished. Good.
hard work, determination, going the distance. All require sweat. Whether it’s gatorade or powerade, Weight lifting or Cardio. Sweat is the main component. So sweat it up people,
Sweating like a pig, upon the dirt over the farm. I fall myself to pieces as I try to reach the line. I go ahead, then I turn ahead to see no one but the red tape. I run as fast as I can, and…
My palms were sweating. Just seeing him again made my heart beat faster, my palm sweat, and my stomach consume butterflies. It’s been three months, you know. Three moths since I’ve kissed those lips, hugged that body, and touched that face. I don’t know what to do, what to say, or how to react. My body tenses up. Oh, how I missed him. He just grabs my hands. “I missed you.” He says as he chuckles lightly. “I missed your sweaty palms, too.” “I can’t take you back. And you know that.” “Are you sure you can’t take me back?” He smirks. He knows he’s my weakness.
Sweat is not always seeet. They say that genius is only 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration. That is a light bulb of thought by Thomas Alva Edison.
Stinky, disgusting, and personally the worst felling ever. Usually happens when you work out. Guys think it’s manly, and girls well don’t like it. Different views I guess… It’s sooo just uhhh I can’t explain it.
is something that your body lets go out of your pours when you work out or you are nervous. People that weigh more than others will give off more sweat. Sweat leads to body odor. Which smells bad. Sweat
The sweat poured from his head as he lifted the last barbel onto the machine and was getting ready to do his reps, when from the corner of his eye he saw someone drop. In that instant the sweat flew from his head as he ran to help the women who started writhing on the floor.
Disgusting, stinky, usually due to working out. Probably one of the worst feelings ever. NOT sexy and boys don’t like girls who sweat.. I think. But boys think it’s manly when they sweat. I personally think they just need a shower. :) And yeahhhhhh