It’s been a long while since I wrote. I’ve thought of it, but mostly there is so much going on, that to untangle it all and write it down sensically seemed too hard a task. In a nutshell, I’ve been working, studying, existing and coping. Those things list themselves in different orders on different days of the week. Losing certain things has hit me harder than I’d like to admit, and having to continue regardless, in a world that’s going fucking crazy with viruses and external pressures, takes its toll more on some days than others.
So, I’m not going to go into it all right here, right now, because it wouldn’t be whole truth, or anything close to the complicated explanation of it. I’ll just say that I’ve had to consider some pretty big changes again. I still have a lot to work out right, and hopefully results will follow. Today I’m going to switch off everything with an electrical heartbeat except the music, and spend the day with my significant other. I’ll leave you with some flippant topic writing I was tasked with this week.
‘To write a description of something, without describing it physically’:
Hoodies are not cloth. Hoodies are fabric.
Fabric that promises to keep you warm and safe. They wrap around you, close to your body, close to your skin. Hoodies make you feel as they hold you, comfortable and peaceful. They bring a hope and promise and love, from within you, not just within themselves.
Hoodies are a reminder, a token, a piece. The fabric of what is, what was, or what could have been. They are a memento of light and future. They are a glimpse of forever. Hoodies are threads, held together with time and care and tomorrows. Hoodies are dusty rays of sunlight, streaming over your face on a cold day. Hoodies are late meaningful nights, and even later cosy mornings. They are sleeping in and staying up, holding tighter and letting go. Hoodies are dark and brooding, hot chocolate and marshmallows.
Hoodies are lustful encounters and wistful gazes. They are a strong shot of whiskey and a tear stained cheek. Hoodies are timelines, timeframes and time passing. Hoodies are a link of chain, a thread of connection and a strand of hope. Hoodies are a dandelion wish and a warm welcome. They are a lingering kiss and a long goodbye. Hoodies are a moment in an hour, and an hour in a moment.
Hoodies are a glinting cheeky smile, that creases lines beside your eyes. They are see you soons, and wish you were heres. Hoodies are a capture. They are a held breath and a pierced heart. They are the lingering of your favourite scent in the world. Hoodies are a weave of truth and strength and what if’s.
Hoodies are morning coffees, last drinks and everything in between. They are something, loved to the point of wearing thin and missing stitches, yet never changing. They are sleeping tight, and waking rested.
Hoodies are an unveiling of truths, hard to tell. They are a shield from your fears, and a sword for your dragons. They are lines fraying, yet holding so firmly intertwined. Hoodies are fortitude and persistence and common ground. They are what is missing, and what is missing from you. Hoodies are a longing, belonging and prolonging. They are borrowed, lent, expressed, never given. They are a grand plan and a spontaneous gesture. They are a soulful, heartfelt, regretful dusty package, tucked away. Hoodies are everything you ever felt, wrapped into something you can see, for just a while.
Hoodies are not cloth. Hoodies are fabric.
I guess the world is full of things, that are not just things.
Cheers Kids, in a world full of other people, keep being You.
V
vampressa 