“if there’s a single lesson that life teaches us, it’s that wishing doesn’t make it so.” // l. grossman

on those rare late nights when sleep eludes me, i’ve been known to play a little game of  wishes – an inner monologue of wants that i hope realize themselves as self-fulfilling prophecies.

most of those wishes are pat-on-the-back altruistic – peace on earth, for the glaciers to stop their melt, and for my daughter to grow on with health and happiness. that’s always how i start of course, meaning well and hoping for the best for humanity.

and then.

then, it takes a rather hasty turn and things become decidedly more shallow and self-serving. of course, there’s a bit of a shame spiral involved in thinking that way, but then i have to remind myself that sometimes to be a better person to everyone else, one must be better to oneself.

so sue me, should those things end up being material as opposed to figurative. is it so wrong that a handbag makes me feel good from time to time, rather than a good dose of meditation and getting a sweat on? (admittedly, i really should get my sweat on.) is it so wrong that a tube of gloss can make me downright giddy?

i’m not sure it is so wrong. in any case, if i’m more content, doesn’t that just mean everyone around me will be happier by extension?






➝ source : geometric print scarf via and other stories

➝ source : spleen sunnies in baby blue snow leopard via valley eyewear

➝ source : double row bracelet w/spheres via joomi lim

➝ source : pat in graphic print (hello? it’s my upcoming birthday present? oh, hi!) via jerome dreyfuss


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