I shaved my head again. Summer's here, the ocean's been calling, and somehow whenever my hair starts to grow out now, I'm more aware of my bald spot than I should be. So I got out the clippers, plugged in, and didn't look back.
The thing about it is that no matter how many times I cut my hair like this, everything feels different. Shaving your head is rediscovering your skin. The warmth of the sun, the chill of the wind-- It's like I'm more aware of things now, less protected. Perhaps the honesty of the sensation is truly the best thing for me, but it's almost like a reflex to want that buffer there.
I feel like I look worse when that halo's attached,
...but I still miss it when it's gone, you know?
I don't know, the currents all around me have been so intense lately. Pure highs, hell lows. Nothing filtered by distance, nothing watered down. It's like I've been finally feeling the air directly on my skin for weeks now, ignoring the instinct to cover up and hide. It's been a good thing, I think -- but every true experience is shadowed with every color of the spectrum. You eventually have to decide for real what you'll reflect and what you'll absorb. What's more, once you decide -- the decision is made, and the chances that you can take it back are slim and none.
So you have to trust that what you are doing is right thing. You have to trust that you've made the decisions that you need to make.
Even when the wind is cold against your skin.
The thing about it is that no matter how many times I cut my hair like this, everything feels different. Shaving your head is rediscovering your skin. The warmth of the sun, the chill of the wind-- It's like I'm more aware of things now, less protected. Perhaps the honesty of the sensation is truly the best thing for me, but it's almost like a reflex to want that buffer there.
I feel like I look worse when that halo's attached,
...but I still miss it when it's gone, you know?
I don't know, the currents all around me have been so intense lately. Pure highs, hell lows. Nothing filtered by distance, nothing watered down. It's like I've been finally feeling the air directly on my skin for weeks now, ignoring the instinct to cover up and hide. It's been a good thing, I think -- but every true experience is shadowed with every color of the spectrum. You eventually have to decide for real what you'll reflect and what you'll absorb. What's more, once you decide -- the decision is made, and the chances that you can take it back are slim and none.
So you have to trust that what you are doing is right thing. You have to trust that you've made the decisions that you need to make.
Even when the wind is cold against your skin.
[Listening to: Coltrane, "Naima"]