“and meanwhile time goes about its immemorial work of making everyone look and feel like shit.” // m .amis

i remembered the other day, that it was decided sometime last year that i would stop aging by 365 days every year.

i would stop gaining that year until such time that i started looking my age. this is not bell being rung, since i probably should’ve taken on that approach five years earlier; when i got carded for alcohol each time i ventured to buy a bottle of wine, when most strangers would be amazed by my age when they noticed i had a child of my very own, and because i just looked and felt hale and hearty.

flash forward to the now, when just a little shy of that next birthday, it has dawned on me that i get carded less and less, that my reflection is spottier than it is in the pink, and i may very well beginning to look my age. or, if i’m not looking it, i’m feeling it.

so, what then is the benefit of growing older, you ask? it’s plain as day – it’s not having to wait to be cheered up by a gift purchased by someone else. in need of cheer, i’m going to buy myself something(s) pretty.





➝ source : sam handbag via jerome dreyfuss

 ➝ source : xeno silver bracelet via moxham

➝ source : sel marin perfume by heeley via lucky scent

➝ source : frak wedges via robert cleregie


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