Lavender Sunday

Lavender Sunday
Structure: House 10 – HY’s (no longer available)
✤Nikka Leather Sofa – ARIA @ C88 || ✤XIAJ Tree Frame – Kuro || ✤rocket lamp, blue.flamingo – junk || flamingo set (drafting table, book one, book two, shelf) – Art Dummy! || ✤Nikka Wall Art – ARIA @ C88

Hello to all of you who is waking up to this Sunday morning. 🙂 It’s Monday morning here now. 2am. I’m having a bout of insomnia, it usually worsen when RL gets hectic and my brain goes into overdrive.

I hate that I cannot ‘switch off’ so whenever my head gets too noisy and stresses me out, I log in for a bit and enjoy a bit of solitude, routing my noisy head into thinking about decorating instead.

It’s Father’s Day this Sunday, so I’m wishing all the Fathers reading this a lovely day ahead full of bacon and egg…oh, and beer. ❤

I’ll just leave you with one of my favourite poem, one I feel is the most fatherly poem out there.

“If”, Rudyard Kipling.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!


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