This is what you look like after a black guy tricks you into falling into a hole with a dead body and then you get your head cut off because you were wrongfully accused of murdering the emperor's brother.
This outfit brought me pride. That's my photogenic scarf (seriously, I've never taken a bad picture while wearing it) and there's my sweater! Here's a better look at it:Do you see how jubilant I look? It's all because of the sweater. It's the cosy, knitted equivalent of a hug.
This sweater keeps me stable when I'm feeling like a hurricane inside. The sweater, and these people:My family! Not biologically, but emotionally (for lack of a better word). These, plus a few more, who I wholeheartedly love. I don't know where I'd be without them. They're the people equivallent of my favorite sweater.