hmm...scissors...
i am having the strangest urge today...the urge to cut off all my hair. right down to the scalp. i haven't picked up a pair of scissors yet, and that's probably a Good Thing (tm) because if i had, i would probably have cut it all off myself. for anyone reading this who doesn't know me or who may not have seen me, i currently have loooooong hair - hair down to the bottom of my butt. it's actually long enough to sit on. a large portion of my "mother-trained" brain (the fucked-up part) constantly screams that it's ridiculous for a 34-going-on-35-year-old woman to have long-ass hippy hair...especially since i really don't DOOO a whole lot with it. i braid it sometimes, when it annoys me...i ponytail it the rest of the time...when i'm not pulling loooooooooong white hairs out of it. i HATE the white hairs. i've had them since i was 17 or so, and i have HATED them the whole time...i have been pulling out white and silver hairs forever it seems and they keep growing back. gaaah. kind of like my life...i've been trying and trying to yank out the badness but it keeps coming back...
did you know, when you accidentally stab someone with a pair of scissors (and why is it a PAIR of scissors, even when they come apart, you don't call one part a scissor, you call it half of a pair of scissors, wtf is up with that anyway?) they can part and the person winds up with two wounds? i wonder if she scarred. they were less than a quarter-inch deep if i remember correctly...and less than 1/8th of an inch long, maybe measured together they were a quarter-inch long wounds. i wonder if she knows how badly she fucked me up. i wonder if that's why she drank. i wonder if she still drinks. i wonder if she still smokes dope. i wonder if she still lies. i wonder if she loves me....if she ever really loved me....if she would have loved me if i had managed to be what she wanted. i wonder if she's happy, or if she'll ever be happy.
i wonder if i will ever be really happy.
i wonder what happy really is, anyhow.
i wonder who my father is, if he's alive, if he knows i exist, if he would care about me if he did, if it would matter to me in the long run anyway.
i wonder who else in my family has died and when i will find out....if ever.
i wonder if my daughter will hate me as much as i hate my mother, and love me as much as i love my mother.
i wonder if i'm sane.
i wonder if i'll cut off my hair....
did you know, when you accidentally stab someone with a pair of scissors (and why is it a PAIR of scissors, even when they come apart, you don't call one part a scissor, you call it half of a pair of scissors, wtf is up with that anyway?) they can part and the person winds up with two wounds? i wonder if she scarred. they were less than a quarter-inch deep if i remember correctly...and less than 1/8th of an inch long, maybe measured together they were a quarter-inch long wounds. i wonder if she knows how badly she fucked me up. i wonder if that's why she drank. i wonder if she still drinks. i wonder if she still smokes dope. i wonder if she still lies. i wonder if she loves me....if she ever really loved me....if she would have loved me if i had managed to be what she wanted. i wonder if she's happy, or if she'll ever be happy.
i wonder if i will ever be really happy.
i wonder what happy really is, anyhow.
i wonder who my father is, if he's alive, if he knows i exist, if he would care about me if he did, if it would matter to me in the long run anyway.
i wonder who else in my family has died and when i will find out....if ever.
i wonder if my daughter will hate me as much as i hate my mother, and love me as much as i love my mother.
i wonder if i'm sane.
i wonder if i'll cut off my hair....