A suit is sexy. A three piece suit is sexier. I look really good in a suit. I am a suitor. I wish to be pursued by a male suitor. I wish to be with a man in a sexy suit.
a night where the ladies are dressed in white, men turn to gentlemen and ask teh woman to dance. Love begins to burst and fairy tales come true. A few are stiff but, soon come relaxed.
“Formal wear?” Leiko spit out. “That’s what I said!” replied our organizer. “It’ll be fun!” said Marisol. “I doubt it.” mumbled Leiko. “Hell will freeze over before you get me in a gown.” Our organizer rolled her eyes.
He hated it. All of it. The stifling tuxedo and the uncomfortable shoes, the smiles that never reached the eyes, people talking of things no one cared about just to have something to say.
He left as soon as he could, barely getting home before stripping off the tux, tossing it into a corner as he rummaged for a hoodie and jeans. Now he could breathe.
why did this come up again i refreshed the page and all i wanted was another word what’s going on i just wanted another word and now i’m forced to keep writing until i’m done that’s no fun because i dont even wanna do this i want a new word
yes and of course a formal goodbye would
consist of yes please and no thanks and
ties twisted over ankles in the closet
bathroom slips with snouted buttons
and of course
a formal goodbye accompanied
by batted lashes and nails twisted into
the faucet-hole
crash! it all crumples
Formal, with tiaras. Sparkling diamonds that blind. Exterior platinum and gold, but our insides are black, unrefined coal. Dancing and twirling, we have no idea.
formal dining room. a woman sits with her hand on the gravy boat. alone and crying. there is a small salad fork sticking into her left thigh, a trickle of blood is pooling on the floor under her mahogany chair.
we sit down to dinner at the table at his parents’ house every saturday. i can’t help but notice that his mother keeps her home impeccable. i am really hoping he doesn’t expect the same from me. i was raised much less formally. there were 6 of us kids. there wasn’t time to keep up with the dust.
And the colors glittered like the sun off a mirror, bright, overly bright, enough to be annoying. Every step was rehearsed to death, was was every single interaction. I was in a play. At least that’s what I assumed until I saw the buffet table.
Leap off that dress rehearsal! Get out of those formal clothes and JUMP! Sweet SHIT do you see what is coming!? YARGH
I am gonna JUMP FOLLOW MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeee ee e e e e
I walked to the Avenue with my mother to buy my first formal and came home with a sack of final clearance dresses and a swimming pool on my head. It was a long walk but I was glad for the shade. I wore my long pink chiffon gown that we got for less than $10 at the discount store. I only wore it once but I soaked my feet all summer long in the pool.
Formalities. I’ll take liberties with the prompt. Formalities, if you please. Can’t have anyone speaking all vulgar-like and lost in vernacular language when english diction must be so uptight and properly written, you know.
Formalities, please. Just stop. You told me to be more graceful, you told me to be more eloquent, but what is eloquence if I’m playing someone else’s game. I wasn’t cut out to be formal. Oh hell no. I am that spontaneous clutz who will cease to amaze petty minds, and cease to be jaded. I will never be formal.
The sophomore semi-formal was probably my worst dance-related night ever. Went with loser boy. (Gah, what the hell was I thinking?) Anyway, after a night of sulking and pouting, he decides to finally dance with someone – Amy. The last dance.
” ‘Greetings’? That’s what you have to say? Why are you being so formal?” she asked him. He ignored the question, and simply pulled out her chair for her to sit, then slid her in closer to the desk before crossing around and sitting down in his chair.
i dont think i was ever formal, just weird, always the weird one. Being formal meant being confined, and well i could never let my self be confined. You could never make me be confined.
The Winter Formal was supposed to be a place of fun, excitement. Instead, thanks to Paul, the evening was full of despair and fear. Paul stood on stage in the gym weilding a shotgun. He had already shot four, and was about to unload the rest of his shells into the crowd.
This formal occasion, I can let my guard down
and rely on the pretext of the situation to keep me alive
keep me breathing
keep me from feeling.
I can lean on my crutch and no one will know my heart.
It’ll be great,
It’ll be safe.
And I’ll be alone. .
I’m not formal enough. My words, appearance, my life isn’t formal enough. I’m surrounded by these people with the name brand shoes, clothes, apparel….and then there’s me. Baggy t-shirts, I don’t know the most popular name or girls in class. I’m your average jane because I’m just that. Average. Not formal.
Formal is what we aim for, isn’t it? To be just another pin point in the crowd of other pin points. Black suits and ties, dresses. A slimmer fit for a slimmer standout. Formal is what we aim for.
All the penguins in their formal attire listed to the left, then listed to the right, slowly moving forward. The long line stretched beyond the horizon, looking like small, abstract, black paper cutouts against the searing white ice.
A suit is sexy. A three piece suit is sexier. I look really good in a suit. I am a suitor. I wish to be pursued by a male suitor. I wish to be with a man in a sexy suit.
s
I am informal, and unimportant. I am tardy and incapable, I am worthy. I am in shake and shatter, and bathing in past.
a night where the ladies are dressed in white, men turn to gentlemen and ask teh woman to dance. Love begins to burst and fairy tales come true. A few are stiff but, soon come relaxed.
He’s not really formal
Usually relaxed reserving his stress
For himself
He’s casual and carefree
With his own set of rules
The wedding wasn’t the most formal
Being in the northwoods, and all
But they looked perfect together
And DAMN this post sucks.
“Formal wear?” Leiko spit out. “That’s what I said!” replied our organizer. “It’ll be fun!” said Marisol. “I doubt it.” mumbled Leiko. “Hell will freeze over before you get me in a gown.” Our organizer rolled her eyes.
He hated it. All of it. The stifling tuxedo and the uncomfortable shoes, the smiles that never reached the eyes, people talking of things no one cared about just to have something to say.
He left as soon as he could, barely getting home before stripping off the tux, tossing it into a corner as he rummaged for a hoodie and jeans. Now he could breathe.
a formal can be a school dance that you dress in FORMAL clothes and so does your company. An evening gown is considered as formal.
why did this come up again i refreshed the page and all i wanted was another word what’s going on i just wanted another word and now i’m forced to keep writing until i’m done that’s no fun because i dont even wanna do this i want a new word
There is no formal you.
Just the dull underbreath of your stinking tongue.
And how I once believed you were king of the ghetto.
yes and of course a formal goodbye would
consist of yes please and no thanks and
ties twisted over ankles in the closet
bathroom slips with snouted buttons
and of course
a formal goodbye accompanied
by batted lashes and nails twisted into
the faucet-hole
crash! it all crumples
You insufferable bitch.
Always so formal in your attacks- never graceful in defeat.
Maybe I should give you a taste of your own disgusting treats.
Formal, with tiaras. Sparkling diamonds that blind. Exterior platinum and gold, but our insides are black, unrefined coal. Dancing and twirling, we have no idea.
I hated prom. I wasted eighty dollars to go to prom, sit around and eat a shitty salad.
I wish I never went, I felt awkward the entire time.
formal dining room. a woman sits with her hand on the gravy boat. alone and crying. there is a small salad fork sticking into her left thigh, a trickle of blood is pooling on the floor under her mahogany chair.
when i think of formal i think of tuxedos and dresses, a ballroom and a sparkling room full of people. high status.
i never really understood what this word completely meant. like formalities. but i guess that’s cause i’m not really the fancy type.
we sit down to dinner at the table at his parents’ house every saturday. i can’t help but notice that his mother keeps her home impeccable. i am really hoping he doesn’t expect the same from me. i was raised much less formally. there were 6 of us kids. there wasn’t time to keep up with the dust.
“Formal is a dirty word in this house. We’re more…whatever” she said shrugging her shoulders. There’s no need for everything to match.
And the colors glittered like the sun off a mirror, bright, overly bright, enough to be annoying. Every step was rehearsed to death, was was every single interaction. I was in a play. At least that’s what I assumed until I saw the buffet table.
A certain way of act. Being able to shed the usual way of acting and use more sophisticated language.
Leap off that dress rehearsal! Get out of those formal clothes and JUMP! Sweet SHIT do you see what is coming!? YARGH
I am gonna JUMP FOLLOW MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeee ee e e e e
I walked to the Avenue with my mother to buy my first formal and came home with a sack of final clearance dresses and a swimming pool on my head. It was a long walk but I was glad for the shade. I wore my long pink chiffon gown that we got for less than $10 at the discount store. I only wore it once but I soaked my feet all summer long in the pool.
formal is what things should be, as opposed to what they are. formal language speaks not to the realities of the world. things are incomplete,
Formalities. I’ll take liberties with the prompt. Formalities, if you please. Can’t have anyone speaking all vulgar-like and lost in vernacular language when english diction must be so uptight and properly written, you know.
Formalities, please. Just stop. You told me to be more graceful, you told me to be more eloquent, but what is eloquence if I’m playing someone else’s game. I wasn’t cut out to be formal. Oh hell no. I am that spontaneous clutz who will cease to amaze petty minds, and cease to be jaded. I will never be formal.
The sophomore semi-formal was probably my worst dance-related night ever. Went with loser boy. (Gah, what the hell was I thinking?) Anyway, after a night of sulking and pouting, he decides to finally dance with someone – Amy. The last dance.
Idiot.
” ‘Greetings’? That’s what you have to say? Why are you being so formal?” she asked him. He ignored the question, and simply pulled out her chair for her to sit, then slid her in closer to the desk before crossing around and sitting down in his chair.
the game was over before it began. the only thing left was the formal scoreboard and final buzzer.
i dont think i was ever formal, just weird, always the weird one. Being formal meant being confined, and well i could never let my self be confined. You could never make me be confined.
Formal reminds me of fancy. Being more reserved and mature.
Formal… Who needs formal?? Why aren’t we are best all the time?? If you can’t accept me as is, formal or not, then to hell with you any ways. :)
The Winter Formal was supposed to be a place of fun, excitement. Instead, thanks to Paul, the evening was full of despair and fear. Paul stood on stage in the gym weilding a shotgun. He had already shot four, and was about to unload the rest of his shells into the crowd.
This formal occasion, I can let my guard down
and rely on the pretext of the situation to keep me alive
keep me breathing
keep me from feeling.
I can lean on my crutch and no one will know my heart.
It’ll be great,
It’ll be safe.
And I’ll be alone. .
I’m not formal enough. My words, appearance, my life isn’t formal enough. I’m surrounded by these people with the name brand shoes, clothes, apparel….and then there’s me. Baggy t-shirts, I don’t know the most popular name or girls in class. I’m your average jane because I’m just that. Average. Not formal.
es un lugar forma. es un lugar sobrio y serio, dirigido a personas que necesitan sentirse algo más que los demás.
es una tela, una copa fina, una cena romántica o una reunión de negocios. un espacio que te permite sentirte más.
eso es ser formal. estar
Formal is what we aim for, isn’t it? To be just another pin point in the crowd of other pin points. Black suits and ties, dresses. A slimmer fit for a slimmer standout. Formal is what we aim for.
Formal wears stiff petticoats made of blades.
All the penguins in their formal attire listed to the left, then listed to the right, slowly moving forward. The long line stretched beyond the horizon, looking like small, abstract, black paper cutouts against the searing white ice.