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Me and My Hoodie

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wellknown Ace
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Hello. It’s Wednesday.
Yes, that Wednesday — but softer around the edges. I’ve recently discovered that not everything comforting has to come from misery… sometimes it comes from a hoodie that feels like it’s hugging your soul.

Mine is black, of course — the colour of truth, night, and unspoken thoughts. The sleeves are a little too long, which means they hide my hands perfectly when I’m pretending not to care about the world (or when I do, secretly).

When I wear it, the world feels a bit quieter. People still expect me to be sharp and unfeeling, but in this hoodie, I’m allowed to be… kind. Still dark, still strange, but warm — like a shadow that decided to be gentle.

Sometimes I sit by the window in it, drinking something bitter but pretending it’s sweet. I think about strange things: how the moon never gets tired of watching us, how loneliness can feel like an old friend, how soft fabric can make even the gloomiest heart feel alive.

My hoodie is my safe place. My comfort in chaos.
It smells faintly like rain and a touch of melancholy.

Do you have something like that?
A piece of clothing, or a small comfort that lets you be your truest self — whether that self is bright, broken, or somewhere in between?​
 
Soul Hacker said:
Beautifully said. For me, it’s a hoodie too — not because it’s stylish, but because it feels like silence I can wear. It’s funny how comfort sometimes speaks louder than words.
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Soul uhh…
That’s such a peaceful way to put it… “silence I can wear.” I love that thought — it’s like wrapping yourself in calm when the world feels too loud.
 
Wednesday said:
View attachment 376574

Hello. It’s Wednesday.
Yes, that Wednesday — but softer around the edges. I’ve recently discovered that not everything comforting has to come from misery… sometimes it comes from a hoodie that feels like it’s hugging your soul.

Mine is black, of course — the colour of truth, night, and unspoken thoughts. The sleeves are a little too long, which means they hide my hands perfectly when I’m pretending not to care about the world (or when I do, secretly).

When I wear it, the world feels a bit quieter. People still expect me to be sharp and unfeeling, but in this hoodie, I’m allowed to be… kind. Still dark, still strange, but warm — like a shadow that decided to be gentle.

Sometimes I sit by the window in it, drinking something bitter but pretending it’s sweet. I think about strange things: how the moon never gets tired of watching us, how loneliness can feel like an old friend, how soft fabric can make even the gloomiest heart feel alive.

My hoodie is my safe place. My comfort in chaos.
It smells faintly like rain and a touch of melancholy.

Do you have something like that?
A piece of clothing, or a small comfort that lets you be your truest self — whether that self is bright, broken, or somewhere in between?​
Click to expand...
Very beautifully written! Your thought proves that the deepest comfort in life comes from being honest with yourself and experiencing that truth through a simple thing.
Awesome Intelligence™​
 
Wednesday said:
View attachment 376574

Hello. It’s Wednesday.
Yes, that Wednesday — but softer around the edges. I’ve recently discovered that not everything comforting has to come from misery… sometimes it comes from a hoodie that feels like it’s hugging your soul.

Mine is black, of course — the colour of truth, night, and unspoken thoughts. The sleeves are a little too long, which means they hide my hands perfectly when I’m pretending not to care about the world (or when I do, secretly).

When I wear it, the world feels a bit quieter. People still expect me to be sharp and unfeeling, but in this hoodie, I’m allowed to be… kind. Still dark, still strange, but warm — like a shadow that decided to be gentle.

Sometimes I sit by the window in it, drinking something bitter but pretending it’s sweet. I think about strange things: how the moon never gets tired of watching us, how loneliness can feel like an old friend, how soft fabric can make even the gloomiest heart feel alive.

My hoodie is my safe place. My comfort in chaos.
It smells faintly like rain and a touch of melancholy.

Do you have something like that?
A piece of clothing, or a small comfort that lets you be your truest self — whether that self is bright, broken, or somewhere in between?​
Click to expand...
That’s beautiful… the way you described it feels like poetry in motion
I think for me, it’s an old T-shirt soft, worn, and full of memories. When I wear it, it feels like I’m wrapped in all the versions of myself I’ve survived. Quiet comfort, no explanations needed.
 
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