All the glory that I bear

It's been a couple of weeks now, but I got my hair cut short again! Though it was by no means long, it was too long for me. Short hair is who I am, yo. I know that a lot of people have the idea that caring about your haircut, or your appearance in general, is superficial. And you know what, it might just as well be. I couldn't care less whether people think that or not. But for the sake of writing, I'll try to convey why that shit ain't as vain as you might think it is.

With all the rules, deadlines and restrictions we have to deal with in life it only seems natural, especially if you're a creative individual, to try and be as restrictionless in the parts of life where you have complete control. Like with your appearance. And even that can be restricted by employers, schools and other party poopers. I understand. You can't be a tattooed freakazoid when you have to work with fragile old people who have heart attacks because their jell-o didn't turn up in time. You can't set a "bad" example for young children by turning up to teach a classroom in a band T and bright blue hair. Though I would've fucking loved that. I "understand". I don't agree, that's for sure. Being raised by crazy hippies, I think that everyone should just wear whatever the hell they want. I think that, only if we start to get used to people looking different from ourselves, we can stop judging people who look different from ourselves.

Before I turned eleven, I wanted to have long hair. Like a princess. The epitome of femininity. What all the boys like. After my puberty kicked in I slowly but surely moved towards my more individual taste, opinion and look. I got my nose pierced when I was twelve. I cut my hair short, together with my sister. I remember my youngest brother telling us that short hair wasn't pretty on girls. Especially not on someone with a round face, like mine. That was the first of many times I would think "Well, what if I don't actually WANT to be pretty? Maybe I just want to figure out who I am?". So I cut it. I loved it. It was my very first step into "I'm going to be whatever I want to be" territory. Because of reasons I will probably discuss in a future post, I had some years where there was no room for trying to really find myself or broadening my horizon. A couple of years older, I dyed my hair crazy colors and I'm still doing that. I never regretted a single haircut, dyejob or piercing (I could use a couple 'a more of the latter) because, like taking guitarlessons or picking up a book, it helps you to get to know who you are. Like getting that first tattoo I've been dreaming about. People tell you it'll be ugly. You'll regret it once you're older. But in the end of the day, you're just going to have to decide that for yourself. After having gone through some tough shit this past year, it's time to think about myself again. Finding out who I am. So I cut my hair. I'm thinking about that tattoo. I started reading more again. I finally started drawing after months of being completely inspirationless. Maybe getting some piano lessons. Buying other clothes. Doing things alone. You know what? I totally forgot about the fact that I'm actually kind of awesome. WITH AWESOME HAIR:

In the words of Gaga:

I've had enough, this is my prayer
That I'll die living just as free as my hair

OH and how do you like my new bloglook? I'm still kind of playing around but I really like it so far!