Friday, April 21, 2006
of being hideous and other excuses

i don't remember much about today except that siti came, and screamed, 'mello, why did you cut your hair??' it would not have been very startling except that i haven't -really- cut my hair in a while. just the odd trim on tuesdays when i wake up hating myself. besides, i've had short hair since january, so she must have seen me at least twice so far. people seem to keep forgetting that i actually want to look bad. even nanz, who sees me around once a week, is constantly bugging me to grow it back. well, it's really too bad, i told myself i'd have short hair this year at least, so short hair it is. nonetheless, it's quite depressing to have your friends stare at you in horror. i was so grumpy that i came home and ate a lot of rubbish and feel even worse now. i shall go to the salon tomorrow and do something - anything - to my hair. it's quite the automatic response to horrified looks. although i never ever like how i look after a haircut. and now everyone is going to scream at me because they all think my hair is too short already, but i'm obsessed with cutting and cutting, cutting it off, cutting it away from me, cutting. i just want to cut cut cut it all away, watch the little pieces of me fall on the floor and get swept away.

actually, i only get bothered about my hair when it bothers people. i mean, out of sight, out of mind.. just that it's in their faces. so if people don't keep telling me how bad i look, i won't feel the need to keep doing something to it. because even if i want to look bad, i'm still a girl, i don't like being told that i look awful. and besides, i didn't use to look all that great, it was just a different look.

you are fascinating as a concept; something to be picked apart and laid bare, the elements neatly classified and examined, cause and effect carefully noted down and categorised. as a person, you are like a perfume; quickly applied to someone else's skin, you wear off your sweet top notes easily within the hour, leaving only the muted, musky base at the end of the day that diffuses lazily through my consciousness and etches itself as a memory on the haphazard blackboard of my brain.
7:25 PM ; 0 comments