Attachments

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There’s something truly gorgeous about a beautifully-tied ribbon bow, I think. Someone with a few over-sensitive ideas about neatness, like myself, can spend a ridiculous amount of time fussing over keeping the loops of a bow equal, and making it look as pretty as it can.

 

I LOVE the ribbons on these shoes, but when admiring them and especially the detail at the front of the shoes, and trying to think how to best show them off,  they got me to thinking of attachments, how we bind ourselves closely to things, and others to us.

 

Life moves, and moves us with it. Well, if we are wise we move with life and not try to go against it.  Some things cannot be avoided, but with clear focus on where we are heading, and a lightness of heart, beauty can be find in even the darkest moments.

 

2019 seems to be hurtling towards the end of its time, and I can honestly say that this year has been one full of obstacles, and changes. Some have been really hard, but all have taught me something about myself. Some links have been unfastened completely, some tied tighter, and then there are those attachments which have been changed in nature, but re-bound with a different, but equally beautiful bow.

 

Nothing remains as it was. The nature of the passing of time is that all things change. This is not something to be mourned, because sometimes they evolve into something even more worthy.

 

That said… for now… just enjoy these gorgeous new Morgane Ribbon Heels from Gos… out now at  Fameshed, shown off perfectly with one of the Bedeviled pose from Gingerfish, and complemented with lingerie from Erratic.

 

The chair is from Fapple, the table from Apple Fall, and decor is from Nutmeg, Disorderly and LODE, all in a skybox from Rageworks

Rain

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Sometimes a SIM has such atmosphere to it, it lets words spring forth! This was taken and written on Cherishville: http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Villa%20Baldeney/183/182/26

 

She sat and let the hammering of the rain silence the shouting of her confused thoughts. The autumn winds carried the drops under the shelter, but she didn’t notice how the damp cold seeped into her clothing.

This was the last place she remembered feeling peace between them. Had she known it would be their last coffee, she might never have wanted to leave. He had seemed silent, but looking back, she couldn’t help wonder whether it was unease which caused it, rather than a sense of comfort between them.

Raindrops seeped through the joins in the shelter roof and chinked almost musically into her coffee, bouncing into the spoon on the saucer, causing it to rattle in harmony. For once she didn’t notice. Her coffee remained un-touched… something rare for her. It was as if both weather and scene felt her silent anguish and simply poured both sound and energy to fill the gaps of her missing words.