Letters

I want to write letters to everyone I know, I feel like I have a lot to say but I don’t know what any of it is, I’ve felt strangely social the last few days too, I’ve been being friendly to people in shops and in the streets. It’s not that I’m not friendly normally just a bit absent and avoiding conversation.

 

I wrote a letter to my grandma, I found a pair of clip on earrings in a vintage shop and I wanted to send them to her and writing a letter to go with them seemed like a nice idea. I drew a sleeping face with flowers growing out of their dreams at the bottom of it. The earrings are small black and  round with a flat back, they are made of seed bead. I wonder if my grandma will have owned a pair like them before, they might have sold them when she was young, I just don’t know with vintage things. I hope she likes them, even if she doesn’t she will know I was thinking of her.

 

I got a hand written letter in the post today as well, it’s from a friend I haven’t seem for four or five years now, it’s unopened on my desk, I can’t wait to read it but I want to sit down properly and read it quietly with a coffee and I have friends staying at the moment. Hand written letters are so personal that I want to open it alone.

 

I had a cup of coffee at nine this morning and can’t sleep now even though it’s almost eleven. I love coffee but i have no tolerance for caffeine at all now after having hardly had any for over a year. I’ve been thinking about people who have time to sit alone in coffee shops; I think it’s a beautiful thing to make time for. I feel like there is an element of judgement that surrounds people who do nothing for any amount of time, but I think nothing is a really important thing.

 

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