Smart Clothes

The winter break was nice. I say that in the face of having spent it bed-bound by illness and chilling in silence with my parents instead of going back to my hometown to meet my friends as I have in years past.

Now I’m back in Plymouth. The new uni semester hasn’t arrived yet and neither has its students. Plymouth is quiet. Through the window above my desk at this moment, it is blue. Britain’s Blue City—I think that’s what they call it.

Yesterday I bought some clothes from charity shops. They are smart clothes. It has been a while since I’ve bought or worn garments of this style, but it feels good. I feel fancy. And, there’s something about the texture of suit trousers drifting across the thigh that feels so comfortable. I might consider wearing suit trousers to bed.

So now I can be a walking illusion. The pretend of having it all worked out through a pairing of shiny, black derby shoes, a turtleneck and cool, casual denim jacket. Yes, I masterfully concocted this outfit in my cauldron of maturity, knowledge and integrity.

It says “New year new me, tee-hee!”

It says “Stay away”.