yir book

So I found old se­nior high school por­traits in a ran­dom draw­er the oth­er day.

And a fair amount of them from one so­cial cir­cle rant­ed about how we’ll al­ways stay in touch and that I shouldn’t as­sume that af­ter high school we’ll nev­er speak.

Wis­con­sin is small and the world is small and we’ll still stay in con­tact.

All be­cause I (TL:DR) wrote in someone’s year­book how I hope they have a great life and we most like­ly will nev­er speak again.

Fun fact: Over a decade lat­er, I still don’t speak to them.
Also fun fact: I do not own any year­books. Be­cause I saw no point in them.

I nev­er want­ed to spend mon­ey on a book that fo­cused on so­cial groups and peo­ple I did not re­late to, and had no in­ter­est hav­ing a cat­a­logue of. Plus, the de­sign of them was al­ways so ugly that even then I was like no, thank you.

And to­day, Face­book made a slideshow.
Thanks Face­book.
I could­n’t pick the right pho­tos, but you sure did.

—jes

Flom­mist Jes ex­ists for mo­ments of fiery in­spi­ra­tion. See her in­spi­ra­tional byprod­ucts at jdeprez.com. Copy­right © 2018 JES DE­PREZ. Top foto by mehal­lo.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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