i've been collecting scarves lately. bright, gauzy things with curlicues, fringes and coins. scarves that smell of cinnamon and nutmeg and marketplaces chock-full of turbaned merchants chewing tobacco leaves. i'm constructing a style, with scarves, no less, because i'm afraid i don't have one. maybe by imagining myself ensconced in many layers with these many layers of many scarves, i can conjure up one particular way of seeing myself. god knows i am nothing like that person i thought i would become: a punk revolutionary wearing mohawks, safety pins for shoelaces and bruised eyes. because i really thought that i was going to be some punk revolutionary anarchist person. but here i am now. i wield neither ideas for more anarchy or any anarchy at all. i wield scarves.

bright gauzy fucking scarves.