So, hmmm. It's been a few days since I had my hair sheared off.
For a little under two years, I was just letting my hair grow. I'd never done anything like it before, and I hated how I looked with short hair, so, you know. Why the hell not?
And oh, it grew. 22 inches. 22 inches of blackness from my cranium. Got me plenty of weird stares in some public places. Got me plenty of shit from the assholes at school. Got me lots of attention from assorted females.
There was no one else like me. I was "the kid with the long hair." Not Anthony, but "long-hair." And its like, "whoa. Notoriety." Rad stuff, I do believe. But I decided that it was time for a change.
Maybe someone else could find a better use for it than me.
I had my eyes on a lot of particular styles. I ended up getting it cut like that one guy from Corpse Bride. Not exactly what I had in mind, but it looks good, I think. I enjoy it.
Its really weird, walking outside, feeling the wind on your neck. Not having to spend a bajillion hours drying your hair. Buckets of shampoo to cleanse it. Tying it up so you don't inhale it while playing DDR. All gone, now. The use of gel to style it is reasonable again. I look a few years younger. I can no longer play Jesus Christ, females, or assorted homeless men in the movies me and my friends make.
The thing that pisses me off about the whole ordeal is that I have my friends and/or acquaintences come up to me, with sad looks on their faces, "oh, it looks good! You may not like it, but I like it!"
WHOA. Rewind!
I was not held at gunpoint to do this shit. I wasn't tired of people making fun of me for it. I donated it to someone. Yeah, sure, I liked my old hair, and yeah, sure, I kindof liked the attention I got for it, but fuck this! I don't have a status quo to live up to. I didn't grow it so I could get recognition for it. I did it cause I think I looked damn awesome with long hair.
(Okay, yeah, I look damn awesome with anything. :))
So yeah. I look like some sort of contributing member of society. I feel so naked and anonymous again. Like I'm in the eighth grade. It is an old, but welcome feeling.
I suppose that is all.