samsonette

I worry sometimes that the bulk of my beauty is attributed to my superlong hair, and that if I were to cut it I wouldn't be considered attractive anymore.

Yeesh, that sounds like the stuff of a postsecret, doesn't it? In light of that, I should probably cut it, and drastically, simply for the exercise in self-empowerment. It would be a little symbolic too, as I've not altered the length of it at all since I was 17, and I've developed so much since. The longest ends of my hair now were the same ends around my collarbone way back when I was whining about Hunter, and it's more than a little bit disgusting to think that I am constantly carrying around a physical remnant of that stupid phase. So a haircut would be kind of a nice way to literally cut ties with who I used to be. But it's not just the insecurity that's holding me back, it's common sense; I am not well known for rocking short cuts. My face is just too damn big. I have to swallow it up some with hair.

But! This post is not about to just be some tedious thinking-out-loud about superfluities such as my hairstyle. The main attraction is that after three weeks of not having to write nonstop, I'm starting to get the old itch back. If that wasn't evident enough by my rebirth of blogging. It's just exciting to know that my main creative lifeblood is finally circulating again, and what's even more exciting is that I think those weeks and weeks of intensive production have helped to refine my technique. Here's to my writing ventures in 2010.

Feh, the more I think about hacking my hair off, the more I want to do it...for now it keeps me marginally warmer though, and versus Kirksville winter deathfreeze I need all the help I can get. I'll give it some more serious thought come spring.