Long Hair Dreams
Hello. I am a face, and a head, and an increasing amount of hair. My hair always enjoys thwarting me. It likes to flop about and obscure my vision. It likes to get into my food as I am eating it. It likes to hang around on the floor and form gangs that hide around me room and terrorise me. Basically, my hair is pretty rude. It's probably because I brush it. No-one could be expected to endure that.
I like it enough to daydream about having 6ft hair though, so it must be doing something to make all that rudeness lovable. I'm not sure why that's a thing I'd vaguely like to happen. Maybe I spent too much time reading fairy tales. Maybe it's just a fascination with the processes and limits and extremes of the body. Maybe it's because it's the natural opposite of shaving my head, and I've already done that one.
I think that's fundamentally it. It's an exploration. Some people climb mountains or sail around the world, exploring the boundaries of our planet. Others explore the boundaries of their own bodies. Their own little planets. I'd like to be one of them, somewhere in my dreams.
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Thank you so much for your comments, especially if they include limericks about skeletons.
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