Sunday, June 11

food for thought

I killed myself yesterday. He's dead, lying in a lumpy ziploc bag on the washstand, asking to be sent to balding cancer patients.

I cut all my hair off, my head is shaved, and I feel reborn. I'm not stuck to some pseudo hippie ideal any longer, I've entered the halls of pure anonymity and am more free than I've ever been. Nonconformity is a delusion. Conformity is freedom. To be part of a faceless mass enables one to be anything in both thought and action. To strive to be different, one becomes a slave to an ideal. To a reaction. I have a perfectly average body, now something i've never had before. I blend in. My mind can take any shape it pleases since its physical companion is now, essentially, a nonentity. I don't have to live up to my look. I don't have to live up to anything. I am free to be me; who is me will never be determined, as it will be consistently fluctuating. I have ended the static Me and invented the dynamic Me. Fitting, since high school is nearly dead. I am a blank slate. I want to grin, open my eyes, and simply exist.

I think i'm taking this a little too seriously (i guess i needed philosophical justification for cutting all my hair off)...i actually cut it off because i didn't want an inch of thick dark hair on the back of my neck when i'm hiking for three weeks straight...


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