I believe 2006 was one of my most ambitious and pretentious years as a writer. I tried my hand at just about everything, from 25+ forms of poetry to the personal essay to fanciful languages (which I took notes for class in, and read afterwards) to Disney song parodies to short fiction trying to encapsulate my fangirl-laced sexually confused dreams to co-authored novels to “"songfic”“ (a popular form of fanfiction in 2006) to articles for a Redwall e-zine on how to build characters. none of it was good. none of it was the worst of the time, but none of it was good. adn I thought I was the shit. I saved documents with titles like "Exercises to learn Zaban” and “I Dreamed on November 15, 2005” and “Where Terrorists Lurk”. I took everything SO SERIOUSLY, I

for those who weren’t there, or hadn’t remembered, let me remind you: I used to take sportS VERY SERIUOSLY

one year, probably my most fanatic about ALL sports, coincided with me taking a poetry class at the community college. and there are. some gEMS:

I want the grasses to bow their verdant heads,
Prostrate themselves before they are freed of their roots,
Flung into piles of erupting green flame.

I want the sea of concrete to still its waves,
Tranquility ruling empty lots,
The only movement that of spying birds.

I want golden horses to graze the barren fields,
Want them to eat greedily of dry earth
And leave coded hoofprints in their wake.

this goes on for TWELVE

MORE

STANZAS

mls-classics replied to your post: dammit. I wish there was more pizza.

It is not yet 10 for you, fren. Go sexy-voice a pizzeria and summon a fresh-faced-flustered lad with another one.

BEST part of this is that the last pizza delivery person was a girl, and red-haired and boot’d and plaid’d and adorable, and I was a bit flustered and tipsy when signing her receipt. oops

second cider thoughts: today my next-door coworker revealed literally his greatest weakness. it’s a physical thing, I could use it against him at every moment. now, my friend, now I will punish you for your year-and-a-half-long crush on me

I think there’s room in my morality to be a smug bitch sometimes :’)

clearing my head of this week with a cider. live long and prosper.