For a prolonged and almost unacceptable period of time, I've been stuck with a series of false starts that when strung read as an aimless plot. Worry not. Even if constellations are after the fact, I've held on to each star: each fact in place, no matter how small. Whatever is left of the dust.
Needless to say, I've been tired for far too long. Bruised like abused leather.
Trust me when I say (here I address myself) that it is time for my voice to be heard: at the very least for me to begin hearing myself again without any hoarseness or strain.
Denim jacket, Cyber Jeans, thrifted
Checkered shirt, thrifted
Belt, Structure, thrifted
Lace-ups, Marlboro Classics
Let the reeds break. Let the wind take away reassurances.
I've had this pair for I don't know how many years now. Shopping is the last thing on my mind though, though I am digging deep searching for something new.
One of the wisest things I've told myself (in front of my boss no less) is that I need to learn to breathe. Even fonts, just as crystal or any structure for that matter, rely on space to pull things together.
To make things neat and tight, the same role for jackets in menswear.
Let things go. But before that, know them as they are. Love them. Then let go.