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The lights flashed and people laughed and screamed.
“Noisy, isn’t it?” She ducked under a set of streamers, her hand lax in mine as we headed to the cherry blossom tree.
“Always like this.” I tightened my grip on her hand and tugged her closer to the magical light beneath the tree. “Like it?”
“it’s different.” She stared up into the cherry willow branches, her eyes aglow with the reflections of the christmas lights strung throughout.
“So, next year, you think you might wanna…?”
“As me next year.” She stifled a yawn. “Let’s get through this year first.
Her grip on my hand tightened.
By Sara H. URL on 02.11.2012
harvest festival 2011. one of the best days of fall. best memory that night: the dreaded ferris wheel :) good times. man, i wish it was fall and football season still!
By laughalot on 02.11.2012
a festival, all for someone who i knew nothing about. stuck in the middle of happiness i knew nothing of. and i was trapped. alone, even as the crowd pressed in on me. isolated. i hate the feeling of being a part, yet so separated. it is as though they are celebrating my downfall. i cannot take it anymore. i leave. i don’t look back. i run back home, away from memories of this terrible festival.
By lillian on 02.11.2012
Positive. My one word would be positive. I am positive that everything in life is a choice. That’s the word. Positive. Make a positive change. Take one positive step towards tomorrow, towards a change, towards something better. Stop making excuses, blaming everyone else, playing the victim, and being stuck where you are. Make a positive decision to change. And that’s where you start. Right there. Be positive.
By Julia Kovach URL on 02.11.2012
I remember summer festivals from my childhood from third person. The summer sun slowly setting, the heat rising from the concrete as the sky slowly turned a deep blue. I see my friends and I walking down our small town street, watching the blinking lights, not ready to close the night out yet.
By Julia URL on 02.11.2012
There is a festival each year to celebrate the mists and mourning. I’m not going I don’t like to be wet or crying. I’d rather feast on life’s treasures and celebrate moments.
By Annabelle Trokey on 02.11.2012
a summer festival at a nearby shrine is the main memory of a festival. how long have i not been one? a long time.
By kaorita on 02.11.2012
Whenever i think festival, i always just think “festival of lights”. that just seems to be the most beautiful kind. I love festivals. its just a party. and ever so festive. and anyone can come!
By Grace URL on 02.11.2012
If I can’t find anyone who will love me the way you do, I might have to throw myself
off the top
of a tall tall building
That’s why today
I’m asking you to stay
with me on Valentine’s Day
At least until I’m ready
to go on my way.
By a poem on 02.11.2012
Folk, love, peace, and tents. Waking up, rather rubbing the sleep from my eyes and smiling in a pit of exhaustion filled with beauty. I walked through campsites, fires smouldering and people snoring in their tents. I had jiffy pop for breakfast with the permission of some sleepy eyed man’s use of his fire.
By Paul on 02.11.2012
The lights were shining above my eyes. It was so dazzling, I felt almost blind with happiness. This years festival was going to be brilliant, terrific. There was only so much I could do in so little time. The sounds of endless chatter rang through my ears with a marvellous sense of crowdedness. I felt filled up to the brim.
By Nana on 02.11.2012
The sun set over the final day of the Autumn festival. Ribbons and party favors strewn along the pathways being a testament to the drunken revelry that had passed in a parade of joyous fervor.
By Amber on 02.11.2012
There are lots of decorations and the place is full of color. A lot of family and friends come together. There is a lot of laughter and people are drinking. There is a lot of noise, but it is joyful. There may be a ceremony and it may be for religious purposes or a birthday or any holiday. There is a lot of food.
By Sierra on 02.11.2012
The lights take the eyes
The laughs draw the night
In festival florescence
All forget their plight
By Emer Wick URL on 02.11.2012
I haven’t been to a festival in a long time. The brightly lit rides, the food stands, even the giant crowds of people. I just miss it all. Those ‘festivals’ at school will never be able to compete.
By Walli URL on 02.11.2012
Foggy breath rose collectively from the crowd, billowous in the claustrophobia of the cold night. The already too-narrow street was packed to capacity with a mass of shivering bodies, allowing only a small, uncomfortable stream of shuffling movement to pass. Even though it was a festival, not one person in the crowd particularly felt like celebrating. Colored lanterns that hung form the arching lattice of inactive powerlines above tried to embody the cheerful spirit of the holida but only succeeded in casting garish light that made faces more gaunt, noses more red, and eyes more sunken and hungry. Frozen wind howled down the corridor of shabby buildings, echoing the dull, discontented crunching of snow beneath thousands of feet. A rebellion was brewing, and everyone could feel it.
By WearyWater URL on 02.11.2012
Sherlock sighed as the festival started to dwindle down, the attractions slowly shutting down one by one as the night grew later and later. Finally, the ferris wheel came to a slow halt with the last two attendees at the bottom. The operator of the ride had been kind enough to let Sherlock remain on the ride, since it was not one of the ones in high demand, and his companion clearly needed the rest.
It had been a pleasant enough pause in his busy schedule, left to his own mental devices as John kept warm against his side, head draped over his shoulder with the softest of snores. Eventually as the temperature had dropped, Sherlock had carefully and protectively wrapped an arm around the doctor to pull him closer, centralizing their weight to keep the little car from rocking in the accelerating night wind.
With the gentlest of nudges, Sherlock had awoken John at the festival worker’s request to leave at closing time. Despite all efforts, the veteran had still awoken with a start, glancing quickly around them as he regained his surroundings.
“It’s dark?” He frowned, gathering that there seemed to be nobody left wandering behind the closed-up booths, “How long was I out?”
“A while,” Sherlock smiled, stepping out of the car and tugging on John’s arm to help him out, “And now it’s time we went back home.”
By floppybelly URL on 02.11.2012
After the festival I dreamt of the masked man I’ve slowly come to know. This love had gifted me with a gesture bold. He left behind a rosewood box filled with gold. More than treasure, I longed for his hands to hold, a face to kiss, and in communion attain our bliss.
By Entropy URL on 02.11.2012
I wished for the orange glow of the street light, to cast a circle around my kneeling body. It stood broken, leaving me alone. Behind me, I could hear the whispers of town folk, that had been carried over hill and street and in to my ears. The festival was far behind me, and with it, the people, hope and lights.
By navy URL on 02.11.2012
I thought there was something wrong with me. I mean, I know there are many, many things wrong with me (thankfully), but I thought maybe my sharp edges were rubbing on his nerves, because he seemed distant, distracted, all that.
But I think I was wrong.
The winter, the cold, the pain in the ass snow, it’s getting to us.
Waiting on spring.
By Elio Hawkins URL on 02.11.2012
The festival was bright and joyous, but I coulnd’t help the darkness I felt inside. I could not fight the insidious feeling that was creeping out of my very eyes. I didn’t plan to ruin the night, I never saw what I did coming, but I didn’t know how to stop it. I have never felt so completely helpless.
By Bridgette URL on 02.11.2012
Every spring at Niagra on the Lake, a group of thespians perform classic works under the heading, “The Shaw Festival.” My mother took me to this event a few times growing up. We had family friends, Oma’s friends, who lived in the area and one of them ushered for the event.
By Christina on 02.11.2012
i played assassin’s creed 2 a few days ago. i went through the festival which is called carnivale and stole people’s money so that I could get the achievement of pickpocketing 5000 florins. i accidentally ended up in the thieves neighborhood and felt bad for stealing from the poor people so I went back to carnivale and stole from the rich people again. 15 florins at a time wasn’t that bad.
By jessica on 02.11.2012
Around me it was chaos. Loud, bright and continuously in motion the festival was all consuming. It was like a high that never ended, the music and the movement dizzying and beautiful. And just for the night, I wasn’t me. i wasn’t the girl with her nose in a book and her head in the clouds. I wasn’t the girl who worked so hard for her grades, but with no plan for the future. For once I wasn’t the girl who felt stuck in herself. For once, I was whoever I wanted to be.
By Julie on 02.11.2012
Smells of cooking meat and sugar
traditions collide with new ideas
It’s more than a party
It is a coming together of families
A community celebrating life and its many wonders
I love festivals.
By Leah on 02.11.2012
Festival of Trees
Festival of Lights
Festival of Colors
By hiyapapaya on 02.11.2012
festival of lights festival of fruit festivals of spring
flowers and sunshine and laughter and relaxation and calmness and content and happiness and peacefulness
By J O'Neill on 02.11.2012
I love a festival. Especially a festival for a good cause like UCPN’s Festival of Trees!
Or a dance festival, or an art festival. Something to celebrate and gather like minded souls together.
By Linda Davidson URL on 02.11.2012
Anyone could see it from a distance. The bright balloons, the Ferris wheel, and all the rides. It was a time of joy and happiness, but all I wanted to do that day was die. Nothing could make me happy at all. Not even this festival.
By Shmozow on 02.11.2012
The colors were so vivid my eyes were trying to keep up, the lights were glaring, the music so loud it made my ears pound. The air bore the strange and wonderful scents of spicy foods and sweet treats. What kind of party was this?
By Alison on 02.11.2012
The lights are so bright and I squint as I try to hide amidst all the people. It’s supposed to be a night of celebration, but I yearn for something more simplistic. The people crowd around me and we make cheap conversation, just like the cheap silverware that I am holding.
By Hailey on 02.11.2012
Happy, colorful, festive, celebration! Lots of colors, laughter, smiling, happy. I love the craft fairs, it’s so much fun to look at everything and see what is going on. I’m tired so I am making mistakes…
By ishikura2 on 02.11.2012
It was a festival of lights. Strands of starlight hung over everything, draped the furniture in the night and the joy of the universe. The heavens were brought to Earth that night, a celebration of joy and life. The music mingled with the stars and the gods came down to play and sing and dance.
By Jez URL on 02.11.2012
It’s late at night but it’s always a festival wherever I’m at. The key to life is to make wherever you are festival. Life should very much be enjoyed. Who needs or wants sorrow, pain, anger, any negative emotion? Nobody.
By Joseph Dimanche URL on 02.11.2012
the festival is in town,
and again i don’t get to go.
i haven’t been in two years because my boyfriend is anti-fun. or anti-state fair i guess.
if only it was free,
then he’d want to go.
why can’t good things be free?
By sarah marie URL on 02.11.2012
Festival is a word that should make anyone happy. My favorite kinds are usually music centric. So many good ones, so little time, and of course they have to be all over the map.
By HelenGrant URL on 02.11.2012
Your face, flesh, eyes mouth. tongue plunging diving spreagins deep in mine my flesh my lights and bright throbbing music our festival of love sings screaming trailing twinkling lights that blaze into the unviverse undivided and i will never return to the desolate concrete alone
By Mother Land on 02.11.2012
We walk together hand in hand past all of the food stands set up. It’s always been one of my dreams to go to a Japanese festival like this. And now that I’m with you, it’s even better. We walk past the goldfish stand. You know I’ve always wanted to catch one. You smile at me and drag me along.
By xstal URL on 02.11.2012
festival. celebrate. love. life. the grit. the grime. the shiny, happy spots. the faces of love, the sounds of love, the feelings of love. celebrate. throw confeti. laugh. smile. hug. be love. give love.
By zoe on 02.11.2012
Obviously, the first thing that pops into my mind is Sondheim’s “Into the Woods” with “I wish to go to the festival!” repeated over
until I want to die a little bit.
By Hollie URL on 02.11.2012
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.