I spend a lot of time trying to convince myself to live. A person might tell me, “Well, just stay busy,” or, “keep to a schedule,” but even with a busy mind a persistent, dull ache says through the labors, Why are you doing this? What’s the significance? In capitalistic lingo, I am pulling myself up by the boot straps and trying to make something of myself but with a nauseating slowness and, as viewed from the outside, with very little determination. I could go on, but really, what haven’t you readers heard?
Here. A disassembled hat. I got this probably in the fourth grade. The holes made it look beyond beater, so I’ve decided to use the pieces to make a pattern and then use silk and linen for a more summery weight and appearance. I could reuse the lining but it’s probably polyester or nylon and I just really dislike plastic fabric.