chrushed and wrinkly

I feel quite crushed myself, too. This year has been a tough one, even this summer, finally living with V, has been a bleary-eyed one. Depression drags me down whenever I sense a better day on its way. I go from not sleeping to sleeping too much to sleeping at the wrong hour to sleeping too much at the wrong hour. C’est la vie. It is nonetheless hard to accept how slow my life has to be, how little I can make, how much I have to focus on not doing too much but still enough. Needless to say, I did not mend the dress as I had planned. I did bake enough cupcakes to feed a tiny village. So the priorities change and I focus on things of little importance that make me feel accomplished and happy.
I am getting older. No news, I know. But it was odd to realise I’m no longer a part of the notorious group called the youth of today.


He told me I was the most beautiful woman in a city full of blind people. Apart from that it’s been rather grim here. (And fine, maybe it’s not so awesome to be beautiful in the city of the blind, but hey, at least he fancies me. I don’t really care for the rest of the city anyway.) 

Emotional times and failed plans. I keep disappearing even from myself. I forget to hold on when it’s windy outside and inside. Yesterday was the first day it really felt like autumn is on it’s way. Even though I prefer autumn to summer, this year I’m reluctant to face the new season.

PS. The unrelated photo is of pintucks on the back of a salvaged vintage silk dress that once probably belonged to Saima. If I can manage to sew some ribbon to replace the chopped off collar and cuffs and re-hem the dress, I will be wearing this to a going-away party next week. I was spesifically asked if I could wear something fancy. I suppose this is as fancy as I can get. I promise to share photos if I finish (and begin) fixing the dress in time.

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