Security Blanket. Comfort Food for the Lost Soul

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8am. It’s raining outside. My hair is a frizzball. My body too lazy to move for its own good. Still obligations await and (other people’s) business to settle. With all the willpower that I have, I get out of the house swimming in a shirt so loose you can barely see my body. On top of it is a shawl/scarf/blanket/rug (fashion police can sue me). Hide me hide me. If I have to get up and present myself to the world, the least I can do is be comfortable wearing whatever I want and not giving a damn about how hideous it looks. Continue reading

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