If I'm in a certain kind of mood about the world and my life, this trailer makes me overwhelmingly sad -- sitting directly in my era and sad about it.
As part of our "let's be friends" campaign, we went to see a film on Valentine's Day: two separated, disappointed, fairly sad people sitting in the cinema on a Saturday afternoon, just to avoid hiding at home alone from the Hallmark holiday.
The image of a depressed person is often dominated by the cliché of a sad person sitting in the corner, unable to have any fun.
Sad, angry men sitting in their bedsits in underpants, hating women unattainable to them?
It seemed so sad, his just sitting out there, so I invited him in.
"That's what made it so sad," he said, sitting in the school's harshly lighted, antiseptic cafeteria.
Gone were all my diplomatic strategies, all the anger that I had pent up cascaded over this sad pathetic girl sitting rocking the baby in her arms and her pale eyes reddened and enlarged with the tears rolling down her cheeks.
I stared out past the tchotchkes on my desk -- a wire sculpture of Kim Kardashian breaking the Internet with a sad Kanye West sitting at the base -- and focused on nothing in particular amid the other desks in the office's open floor plan.
"...my wife is here,...you know most of the time she advises me to do this or that...when I am angry or sad, I'm sitting here or sleeping, she said...you come with me, we go outside, trying to, always trying to make me feel better...," ARDS survivor number 424.
So I walked toward the exit and noticed a poster of a sad-looking woman sitting in a pub drinking wine.
