hibimono

...and let's get into the mood… 😮‍💨

😮‍💨

Feet? Still there. Just not the first thing I see.

Love how the light highlights all the parts that don’t fit in clothes

This was supposed to be the ‘safe shots’. still got too much in it.

97% humidity - 3% tolerance - 0% chance of dressing appropriately

Some shorts aren’t made for the outside world: too thin, too honest.

Worn only at home, strictly under the law of “please, nobody visit today".

Just sitting by the window, legs crossed.

I hate summer, but I’ve learned to frame the discomfort.

Late. No energy left, no hands free. So I let my legs do the holding. Scrolled through my own blog like a guest — quiet, soft, and just curious enough.

Some nights, this is all the structure I need.

Favorite part of the day.

No plans. No pressure.

Just softness, some silence, and space that finally makes sense.

They’re ugly. I know, but my feet don’t care.

Neither does my t-shirt, or these sweatpants. At some point, comfort just wins. And honestly? I’m not even fighting back.

Boring day.

Nothing planned, nothing moving, just home, hodie and grey sweatpants doing what grey sweatpants do.

Even boredom can’t hide it.

Just trying to put on a sock. That’s it, but even this becomes a scene.

A silent headline, a shape I didn’t script. Some bodies can’t even stretch in peace.

It’s not on purpose. It’s just one of those days. When the fit doesn’t help, the fabric refuses to hide, and you’ve got a full basket and nowhere to go.

Can’t fix it. Can’t fight it. So I stand here and pretend… again.

It looks like a tent.

It’s the daily negotiation, a silent protest.

I didn’t ask to pitch this tent. I just sat down. ⛺️