We are the same, never different. We prod along the same bad habits, the same gregarious tones, the same blind faith.

So when we become the worst version of ourselves, we don't even realise it.

You can see other people's hideousness, but the ability to point out someone else's faults is not a unique gift.

I have issues with your facade, but then again I have my own that I have embellished over the years.

Now that I hold it up against yours, are we so different? Do I despise the reflection of myself that I see in you, and hence why the disgust is so strong?

At this I bristle.

I hiss "I will never be like you. Never as contemptuous, as prone to vindictiveness, nor as duplicitous. I will admit my faults, try my best to learn the error of my ways and be unmoved by flights of fancy."

And yet, by writing this, I have become what I said I wouldn't be.

Marvelous.

---

I talk so much about faith, about putting your heart in it, wearing your heart on your sleeve (I literally have one sewn into the cuff of one my jackets, not that I need reminding. If anything, I need to rein it in a bit more) but sometimes it's a hassle.

Being a jackass is so much easier, no wonder there are so many of us around.

Pavements say a lot about a city.

Cobblestone streets remind me of tried, tested and proud cities. Polished granite ones with large tiles have a clinical feel to them, very Wall Street. Uneven ones with weeds in between, with squashed bugs on one side remind me of cowboy towns. Dirt pavements remind me of villages.

The pavement I pound on a daily basis has shifted between all types over the years.

My feet do not miss the cobblestone streets, nor do they miss the chill of the snow, or the slippery feel of sleet.

My feet are grateful for the heat and dust of the current uneven pavements.

But the mind wanders and misses the cobblestone and the allure of the highly polished granite tiles.

The shoes are still Fendi, Autumn 2008 with brass buckles in two tone shades from Selfridges. The stockings are patterned black ones from Max in New Zealand bought on a whimsy on a cold winter day. The black pantaloons are from Joy in Clapham Junction, home for 3 years. The belt, LV Monogram Vernis in Amarante bought after a really bad day at work. The Victorian flouncy top from Principles in the Bank district of London.

The heart?

Still somewhere amongst the stars, looking for a home.

---

How do we contradict ourselves? Let me count the ways...

The methodical brainiac, who logically deduces even relationships dreams of the all-consuming lightning strike when he has never taken a chance on love.

The free-spirit who has buckled down to a job that requires her to rein in others to comply with rules.

The introvert who has to get up and speak in front of crowds on a daily basis.

The extrovert who's told that her biggest flaw is her inability to manage people.

The fashionista whose intellect gets in the way.

The woman who is told to reach for the stars, and when she gets there is told that you have wasted your life chasing ideals when all that really matters is a loving husband and children.

When you have come full circle, will you be happy with what you see?

Insomnia. I hate you

My pink dress is a Spring 2009!

It came today and it fits so well, I think it's part body-con