Hats and living

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.



2 thoughts on “Hats and living

  1. doesitevenmatter3

    I like the visual and the analogy to life/living.
    I wanna’ believe as “an old battered hat”, that I can be loved back into beauty…in some way.
    ??? Maybe renewed, reborn…still useful, still attractive enough to fit in, still some reason to belong, someone who might care…
    I had a dream the other night that fits with this post.

    I hope you always find reasons to keep living.
    But, I understand your first paragraph more than you or anyone else realizes.

  2. MyHomeIsWriting

    I’m keeping busy, as they say. It doesn’t stop certain thoughts from creeping up. It makes the possibility of them less and less, but they never go away completely.


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