You’re told that an event that’s dear to your heart — an annual fair, festival, or conference — will be cancelled forever (or taken over by an evil organization). Write about it. For your twist, read your piece aloud, multiple times. Hone that voice of yours!
NO. NO. No. No.no. LIke seriously shut the fuck up. I’m not about to live in a world that doesn’t have roller-coasters that are more deadly than standing blade to blade with a circus freak. LIke no. I live for the news reporting people dying on a certain attraction…or of an elephant ear overdose. LIke i’m not being fucking facetious. I’m not trying to sound cool. Like i legitimately feel like i’m directly connected to Youth Fair and like if someone tries to take that from me i will literally die. Metaphorically literally die, but die all the same.
Fuck. Like it’s the old grandparent that no one talks to because she was too crazy or too modern for her time…but she likes to talk shit on the porch. She’d talk about the family that never takes care of her. LIke the granny who smokes pot or cigs and chews tobacco and gives little kids the bird and then flips it for them. It’s out of time in a cool and strange way…like it’s iconic.
Fuuuuuck. I love that place…i would never fucking ride anything there because i have future plans, and that shit is rusted as fuck…but like i really would be devastated. LIke maybe even more than i would be if someone in my family died. Like i’m not too good as expressing my feelings outwardly and i feel awkward in social situations involving death because it’s inevitable and it’s easier to move past it than wallow and cry and shit. But with things like monuments it’s like…dude…this sort of thing could have been like a fucking landmark. It didn’t have an expiration date like every one of us…150 years and we’re certain to be in the ground like bugs.
LIke i just like imagining that things can keep on existing even when i won’t. THings that are broken and trottin along as the weird village creature that people have accepted to the point that they don’t gossip about it anymore…not gossipping about whose sister bred with who to creature such an abomination. He’s just Henry at the post office with weird eyes and slow speech.
Like i figure the Youth Fair would be like that. Lovably broken.
Fuck man. LIke don’t fucking close that shit hole.