Some say it's much harder to live during peace time, when things are not as clear. When enemies don't carry flags or bear any names. When there are no sirens to signal fear.
Boredom is the playground of the devil, as nuns would say. For me boredom is wasted silence.
Denim jacket, Rick Owens Drkshdw
Sheer paisley shirt, thrifted
Belt, Brave Beltworks
Lace-ups (not seen), thrifted
There was a time when I used clothes as my armor. Black. White. Even red. Then all sorts of jackets. These days I am more in need of uniforms for unhampered work. Chinos. Blues. Denim.
Though this morning at work I really just needed a thicker-than-usual jacket for my sheer shirt.
I love everything about this dirty denim piece. Its structure reminds me of a straightjacket. (When nothing hangs loose, no marbles are lost.) Its color is where the sky meets mud.
It's time to break my back again. Bend words. Thread stones.
Harder still is to share my solitude.
So who's complaining?