Fact: All of my dresses are in boxes, so this is actually a shirt.
Fact: I’m not wearing any pants, thus, why I’m not standing up.
Fact: It’s EXTREMELY rare to see me wearing something that’s not black. Consider yourselves lucky.
Fact: Most of these pictures are stupid because I look weird when I smile whilst wearing lipstick.  
Fact: I actually attended Tumblr Prom last year, but it was kind of different from what it is now.
Fact: I’m not sure if I still have a date.
Fact: Either way, if you don’t have a date, *I* will be your date :3

A Reason to smile

Man, a prom full of writers; looks more like a tumblr AA meeting to me, but then again alcoholics always are the best to party with. I look around and all I see or adjectives tied to flowery nouns streaming from the ceiling. There’s a soft glow of romance and friendship hanging in the air, like the sweet smell of a blossomed rose tinged with the spicy scent of whiskey and beer

Everywhere I turn I hear the roar of hundreds of creative minds sharing ideas in the poetic verse and lengthy works of prose that pour forth from lips upturned in light hearted smiles, which seem infectious as I feel one tug at the edge of my lips as well. 

I see, too, the wall flowers scribbling dreams away on napkins as they look on at those more social creatures; not sad at their self induced exclusion, but rather happy to enjoy the spectacle from a distance. 

But as I look around what I really see is the wonderful community of highly intelligent and creative people I have come to call home, and I suspect that is the real reason for all the smiles. We, vagabonds all, have somehow all come together in this place to celebrate the family that we have become, and that’s a reason to smile if you ask me. 


Oh tonight, the night of nights
The moon is full, the stars are bright
Shining down on tumblr prom

The jitters, the nerves, the naive fear
Of all that’s yet to happen here
Tonight at tumblr prom

Briefly, the pens are set aside 
The paper waits for fate decide’
Online at tumblr prom

Here are the writers we never see
The recluse poets that refuse to be
Tortured artists in fancy dress
Casual scribes’ve donned their best 
Dressed to the nines for tumblr prom

The way he types, the way she smiles
Oh we may be here a while
Who could bear to see the end
Of lover to lover and friend to friend
Hearts entwined and fangirls sated
All the greats inebriated.
Just another tumblr prom. 

Clint-a-pint a rattle a stint
An evil genius who smells of mint
He’s bindywash and brandy dreams
And all is fiddledeedee it seems
So let’s go down to the gallimatrops
To see the whatsits and feed the jops
By the swashes that buckle and sway 
That’s where all the talleyway play, they say
Then under an oak, you’ll steal a kiss
And up above the branches will hiss
With laughter from the hidden venozey
Who think it’s the funniest thing to see
A tall man dressed in hat and coat
Smooching a girl who stands on her toes
A twitch of the ‘stache and they’ll run back
To the hidey holes they share with the znack 
Hand in hand, we’ll stroll away
Let’s save the nonsense for another day.