When I was a kid I always thought a lounge was a glamorous place. A place to go an unwind, relax, have a drink or two, maybe do a little dancing. I thought it’d be so cool to have one of those pink drinks. When I finally had one, I was disappointed. The drink wasn’t as sweet. It was bitter. Turns out I like the bitter drinks.
He expects me to be lounging by the pool this summer, nose deep in a book and occasionally cooling off in the water. He’s a third off as I’ve been reading. Reading, listening to music too, and yet not living life not by the pool. And what is a pool but a concrete hole in the ground filled with chlorinated water? Is it really a substitute for the sea and the constant pulse of nature? Can it give you the sounds of the forest or the crash of waves?
I changed my habits a little because my options now seem too bleak. So I’ve been reconsidering the idea of adapt or die. Amazing how life compels you to adapt. I made it up and down hastily built stairs all night once without dying much less falling, even though my mind was in a million places, this was by choice, so I would say this new change of pace suits me. Because in a way the odd angle of the stairs forced me to do this. But that force is internal and it’s willful. When people talk about the call of the wild, I would only add follow that impulse, let it lead you to think and be mindful. Instinct as combined with higher order thinking is a beautiful thing. Or it can be a form of zen if you seek it. Little chance of finding it if you go stumbling around blindly however.
The policymakers gathered in the luxury lounge of the new airport. They deliberated on new and upcoming agendas, which varied from alleviating poverty and reducing crime rates in the country. Soon enough, an announcement resulted in them departing for their respective flights, boarding the business class suites.
The tiramisu served in the flight was deliciously appetizing.
Reclining into a weightless position is my favorite place to hide. If I pretend I’m invisible at this angle, maybe it will actually happen. Loose my muscles in just the right way… maybe today I’ll finally fade into the infinite.
its a part of dwelling, just to refresh apart from mundane chronicles of activity just like a corridor or a balcony .we can do exercise ,refresh and anything we want
i sometimes wonder how it would look like if the anthromorphized version of my psyche just took a little break and lounged on a comfortable couch. i sometimes wish it would just shut up. i wish sweet oblivion would settle and acquiesce that little bugger to sleep.
I lounge all day at the sound of your voice, intermittent between the voice echoing from the rain outside my window. I fall asleep in you, everlasting joy upon my face.
There were two other guys sitting on a sofa, idly chatting. He shuffled up to them and asked, “Um, excuse me. Is this the lounge for people who manage to get 10,000 coins in a row on the Master Challenge online game thing?”
They looked at each other and nodded. Jim sat down.
Two seconds later he jumped up and said, “This is boring. Let’s go crash the next door party, I think it’s about 10,000 crystals.”
I would love to be an awesome human and just lounge around and be an integral part of helping others humans if I want with minimal work. We can all be like that and all we have to do is care for the human race…won’t you join me??
“Sure, just wait out here in the lounge for a moment or two.” Leo directed him to wait in the main area of the floor. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“OK.” Elliot agreed. He sat on the bench and looked around the lobby. “I’ll be here.”
He’s lounging in an armchair when she returns, fully making himself at home in her tiny apartment during the time it takes her to use the bathroom. (Ok, so maybe not use, exactly–she spent the last four minutes alternating between splashing her face with cold water and giving her reflection a pep talk in the cracked mirror. But he doesn’t need to know that, know the effect that he still has on her.)
“Oh my,” he all but purrs. Purrs! Like some goddamn, self-important tom cat.
His eyes linger on the water drops marking the front of her blouse and she swears she can hear the smirk in his voice without even fully looking at him. She remembers from past experiences just what that smirk does to her, and she knows that this is neither the time nor the place for any of… that… to happen again. “You look ravishing when you’re wet, love.”
If she flushes at the blatant innuendo, it’s because she’s angry. So very angry that he’s barged into her life again (and her heart, she worries) and somehow manages to look so obscenely good while he does it, stretched out upon her threadbare furniture like he never left her in the first place.
She was sitting in the lounge, minding her own business and not looking at the people around her. Why should she? They did not matter. All she did was wait, wait for something to happen, for someone to enter the hall and look at her. Where was he? What was going on…
Something
She lounged despondently among the cushions and pillows of her plush, posh sofa. Her life really was perfect. There was nothing really worth changing. Yet, she longed for an imperfection and an unknown to explore.
You lizard
smoked filled rooms without a view
taken in the morning
resting in the evening
startled by the raven hue
of starlets yet discovered
secrets left dripping
with crimson dew
in my hole life i’ve never seen a lounge soo big, it inspires me to be a better person, to try new stuff, to cross over a lot of lines that i’ve never been able to cross. I’m really ready to start something new with my life. Sometimes we just need to see the lounge to understand our state of mind better.
Why do I keep getting the word lounge? I want to keep writing about other things. I like to lounge. I love it actually. I love my dog and wine and a good book. To me, that it the perfect lounging scenario. Now, what to do when the wine runs out and the dog wants to go for a walk??
i like stting in a lounge and reading my favorite book ice queen.Its a lovely book about a girl hit by lighting she meets others like her and finds love.
couch feet, because I never
want to leave the house
and the footprints I see
through the snow laugh at me,
and the walls – the stairs – all
laugh at me.
I just bury my toes into my
thighs, and sometimes my hands
when I need to just be held,
and I watch the world
through glass windows.
When my palm condenses
my nervous sweat into a sheen,
I do not blink – instead I stare
like death stole me with my eyes
open wide like holes and owls,
but like I also somehow still
managed to be happy about it.
A place to go have drinks & relax. Maybe listen to some smooth jazz or blues. Ideally for me any way. I imagine colorful lights, outfits & characters….dancing, walking, talking, mingling, etc.
The lounge singer was older, with hair as silver as chrome, but he had a damn good voice. He crooned to us for the entire time we were at dinner, the waitress smiling as she filled and refilled our wine glasses. When it got late and we were sated on champagne and chocolate cake, I found myself slumping and nuzzling my chin into the crook of my wife’s arm, breathing in the detergent fumes of her recently washed jacket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the singer smile.
When I was a kid I always thought a lounge was a glamorous place. A place to go an unwind, relax, have a drink or two, maybe do a little dancing. I thought it’d be so cool to have one of those pink drinks. When I finally had one, I was disappointed. The drink wasn’t as sweet. It was bitter. Turns out I like the bitter drinks.
I sat on the lounge area
and saw so many people.
Felt so lost with their hustle and bustle.
All their chatter and fuss
does not make sense to me.
Make me wonder:
“What is it that matters?”
Sunbathing at the beach with friends in the midst of summer, a bbq in the evening with the same friends on the same beach and watching the sun set.
get bored, need things to do. enough that is.
lounging? get this thing off of here
We’ll sit in the lounge he heard the voice of the host. They quietly left the luggage and followed the voice.
I know lounge, so I multisend
He expects me to be lounging by the pool this summer, nose deep in a book and occasionally cooling off in the water. He’s a third off as I’ve been reading. Reading, listening to music too, and yet not living life not by the pool. And what is a pool but a concrete hole in the ground filled with chlorinated water? Is it really a substitute for the sea and the constant pulse of nature? Can it give you the sounds of the forest or the crash of waves?
I changed my habits a little because my options now seem too bleak. So I’ve been reconsidering the idea of adapt or die. Amazing how life compels you to adapt. I made it up and down hastily built stairs all night once without dying much less falling, even though my mind was in a million places, this was by choice, so I would say this new change of pace suits me. Because in a way the odd angle of the stairs forced me to do this. But that force is internal and it’s willful. When people talk about the call of the wild, I would only add follow that impulse, let it lead you to think and be mindful. Instinct as combined with higher order thinking is a beautiful thing. Or it can be a form of zen if you seek it. Little chance of finding it if you go stumbling around blindly however.
its not usually I multisend, but this requires it within lounge. I must have been loungin’.
The policymakers gathered in the luxury lounge of the new airport. They deliberated on new and upcoming agendas, which varied from alleviating poverty and reducing crime rates in the country. Soon enough, an announcement resulted in them departing for their respective flights, boarding the business class suites.
The tiramisu served in the flight was deliciously appetizing.
1lounge = laying on unbelievably new gravital efferism
a corridor , inever experience this from my childhood ,but my lateral stage gave the experience of so ,just like a
I meant gravital instead of gravity
1lounge = laying on unbelievably new gravity efferism
Reclining into a weightless position is my favorite place to hide. If I pretend I’m invisible at this angle, maybe it will actually happen. Loose my muscles in just the right way… maybe today I’ll finally fade into the infinite.
its a part of dwelling, just to refresh apart from mundane chronicles of activity just like a corridor or a balcony .we can do exercise ,refresh and anything we want
i sometimes wonder how it would look like if the anthromorphized version of my psyche just took a little break and lounged on a comfortable couch. i sometimes wish it would just shut up. i wish sweet oblivion would settle and acquiesce that little bugger to sleep.
I lounge all day at the sound of your voice, intermittent between the voice echoing from the rain outside my window. I fall asleep in you, everlasting joy upon my face.
Jim walked into the lounge carefully.
There were two other guys sitting on a sofa, idly chatting. He shuffled up to them and asked, “Um, excuse me. Is this the lounge for people who manage to get 10,000 coins in a row on the Master Challenge online game thing?”
They looked at each other and nodded. Jim sat down.
Two seconds later he jumped up and said, “This is boring. Let’s go crash the next door party, I think it’s about 10,000 crystals.”
red and leather
tied like a teather
we keep coming back
not losing track
of the drinks
and the midnight winks
fucking twinks.
(the ballad of l4)
Her body gave the appearance of bonelessness; sprawled out in every direction and dangling limply where her form exceeded the boundaries of the chair.
Keknar did not understand the concept of “lounging”
I would love to be an awesome human and just lounge around and be an integral part of helping others humans if I want with minimal work. We can all be like that and all we have to do is care for the human race…won’t you join me??
“Sure, just wait out here in the lounge for a moment or two.” Leo directed him to wait in the main area of the floor. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“OK.” Elliot agreed. He sat on the bench and looked around the lobby. “I’ll be here.”
He’s lounging in an armchair when she returns, fully making himself at home in her tiny apartment during the time it takes her to use the bathroom. (Ok, so maybe not use, exactly–she spent the last four minutes alternating between splashing her face with cold water and giving her reflection a pep talk in the cracked mirror. But he doesn’t need to know that, know the effect that he still has on her.)
“Oh my,” he all but purrs. Purrs! Like some goddamn, self-important tom cat.
His eyes linger on the water drops marking the front of her blouse and she swears she can hear the smirk in his voice without even fully looking at him. She remembers from past experiences just what that smirk does to her, and she knows that this is neither the time nor the place for any of… that… to happen again. “You look ravishing when you’re wet, love.”
If she flushes at the blatant innuendo, it’s because she’s angry. So very angry that he’s barged into her life again (and her heart, she worries) and somehow manages to look so obscenely good while he does it, stretched out upon her threadbare furniture like he never left her in the first place.
i like to lounge about while reading my favorite book…lounge
laying around relaxing and thinking about philosophical stuff. Life, family, friends, future, past, present.
She noticed the grey lounge across the room. It looked comfortable enough, but knowing him, it might’ve been more for the look than the comfort.
She was sitting in the lounge, minding her own business and not looking at the people around her. Why should she? They did not matter. All she did was wait, wait for something to happen, for someone to enter the hall and look at her. Where was he? What was going on…
Something
To lounge and relax after a long day at work is bliss.
She lounged despondently among the cushions and pillows of her plush, posh sofa. Her life really was perfect. There was nothing really worth changing. Yet, she longed for an imperfection and an unknown to explore.
the smoking room at kenmore high school was called the smoking lounge and was for seniors only. didn’t smoke so didn’t spend a lot of time there.
You lizard
smoked filled rooms without a view
taken in the morning
resting in the evening
startled by the raven hue
of starlets yet discovered
secrets left dripping
with crimson dew
they always use this word? A lounge isn’t that interesting to talk about in a text come on! I’m not even making a effort.
in my hole life i’ve never seen a lounge soo big, it inspires me to be a better person, to try new stuff, to cross over a lot of lines that i’ve never been able to cross. I’m really ready to start something new with my life. Sometimes we just need to see the lounge to understand our state of mind better.
Why do I keep getting the word lounge? I want to keep writing about other things. I like to lounge. I love it actually. I love my dog and wine and a good book. To me, that it the perfect lounging scenario. Now, what to do when the wine runs out and the dog wants to go for a walk??
i like stting in a lounge and reading my favorite book ice queen.Its a lovely book about a girl hit by lighting she meets others like her and finds love.
couch feet, because I never
want to leave the house
and the footprints I see
through the snow laugh at me,
and the walls – the stairs – all
laugh at me.
I just bury my toes into my
thighs, and sometimes my hands
when I need to just be held,
and I watch the world
through glass windows.
When my palm condenses
my nervous sweat into a sheen,
I do not blink – instead I stare
like death stole me with my eyes
open wide like holes and owls,
but like I also somehow still
managed to be happy about it.
“I am not crazy.
I am *not* crazy.”
A place to go have drinks & relax. Maybe listen to some smooth jazz or blues. Ideally for me any way. I imagine colorful lights, outfits & characters….dancing, walking, talking, mingling, etc.
to lay around and relax, doing nothing, it can also mean a small area in which people can sit, talk, or visit while sitting on chairs and couches
The lounge singer was older, with hair as silver as chrome, but he had a damn good voice. He crooned to us for the entire time we were at dinner, the waitress smiling as she filled and refilled our wine glasses. When it got late and we were sated on champagne and chocolate cake, I found myself slumping and nuzzling my chin into the crook of my wife’s arm, breathing in the detergent fumes of her recently washed jacket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the singer smile.