week 30: stitch

i actually finished this one a few days ago but have been too busy to post it earlier than now, which is a shame, ill try and get better at posting regularly, i just have so much going on right now its not even funny.

back to the prompt.

this last new years will be one of the top three new years eves that ive had so far. usually they are disappointing anti-climatic and lame.

now id like to say that i didnt black out or anything but i have had to stitch the events together with a little help, especially towards the end, id also like to mention that i do remember the drive home (i was the passenger thank you very much) and getting into bed.

this year i went with the girl to a "lesbian new years party" named for the fact that that the majority of her friends play for the "other" team so to speak. the experience has only further confirmed that i seem to get along really well with women of that orientation.

we played a drinking game involving shots of vodka, champaign, beer, wine?... um not too sure at this point maybe rum?

and then the new year came in and we became an after school special.

we were all pretty drunk and had just come out of a group wrestling match, when someone prodused a box of fireworks.

which we then went out and set off.

it wasnt until a day or two later that we stopped and thought about how very very reckless that was, and asked the question, how did no one lose a finger...

drunken poor aside it was a great night and wonderful fragmented memory.

week 29:100%

when i was in art school i used to get a's on assignments.

now one of my jobs duties entail serving people coffee.

i am 100% sure that i made a mistake in choosing my school and i regret the last six years of my life.

week 28: soar

things have been so busy lately, i havent had time to keep up with this.

the irony is that i knew the second i saw this one what i was going to do.

this prompt took me back eleven years ago.

to high school.

to standing on a bridge at one in the morning.

there with someone that i wish to this day that i could let go.

and we wrote our secrets, our hopes, our dreams on pieces of paper and folded them into paper planes.

then we threw them into the night, into the wind, and watched as they disappeared.

i dont know what she wrote on hers, i dont know if i were to find her and ask her if she remembers it at all.

but i will never forget watching her throw them.

that and what i wrote on mine.