I'm going to be bald in four days.
The reason isn't important. Well actually, it would be vital if I was talking to anyone else, but it isn't, not really. The truth is that I'm doing this more for myself than for anyone else. I'm being selfish, in thinking this is going to solve the problem, in knowing that it probably won't, but going through with it anyway.
Let me let you in on a little secret. Not the kind that you whisper in your plaited-best-friend's earlobe during recess. That's someone else's secret, one you've mistakenly adopted as your own. This is the type of secret that you mostly likely keep to yourself, hoping that when you think it, feel it, inhale it amongst the bullshit perfume embracing you, you pray that others can't smell it on you.
I hate myself.
I always have.
It's not one part of myself, really, but the clusterfuck of things that "collage" me into this person. I hate the way I look, the way I pretend to look,. The way I talk, the way I pretend to talk. The way I pretend to have my goals and ambitions color-coded and labeled, the way I am eternally a wreck and seem incapable or even desirous to change.
Most of all, I hate my passivity.
I hold the bystander effect in my own life.
My decisions, actions, looks, goal, speech are all illusions of a different person.
I'm going to be bald, and the only reason I'm doing it is so I can say that I've taken an active stance for something, for once.
The reason isn't important. Well actually, it would be vital if I was talking to anyone else, but it isn't, not really. The truth is that I'm doing this more for myself than for anyone else. I'm being selfish, in thinking this is going to solve the problem, in knowing that it probably won't, but going through with it anyway.
Let me let you in on a little secret. Not the kind that you whisper in your plaited-best-friend's earlobe during recess. That's someone else's secret, one you've mistakenly adopted as your own. This is the type of secret that you mostly likely keep to yourself, hoping that when you think it, feel it, inhale it amongst the bullshit perfume embracing you, you pray that others can't smell it on you.
I hate myself.
I always have.
It's not one part of myself, really, but the clusterfuck of things that "collage" me into this person. I hate the way I look, the way I pretend to look,. The way I talk, the way I pretend to talk. The way I pretend to have my goals and ambitions color-coded and labeled, the way I am eternally a wreck and seem incapable or even desirous to change.
Most of all, I hate my passivity.
I hold the bystander effect in my own life.
My decisions, actions, looks, goal, speech are all illusions of a different person.
I'm going to be bald, and the only reason I'm doing it is so I can say that I've taken an active stance for something, for once.
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