Since young, I've lost count of people telling me what great hair I have. It's silky, lustrous, it falls into place with a gust of wind instead of getting messed up, the kind that people will spend hundreds in saloon just to own for months. It sure lacks a little body, but it hardly requires maintenance. In fact, I don't even bother to blow dry my hair, it's the kindest thing that I wear. I often step out of home thanking God what a manageable head He gives me.
But the spell breaks whenever a snip takes place. A pair of sisscors is the last thing on earth that can damage my precious locks. Somehow, fly outs boldly protest at the loss of the severed ends , and manz, they sure are crossed. It hurts. I've never felt less confident, especially with seeing that dishevelled shocker gasping in the mirror every morning, ok who's spooking who here. And the shorter it gets, the more severe it is with the fly outs! Surely I'll beat any other on the street with some outlandish outfit. It's the most hilarious sight you must see.
Use a dryer! I know. But I don't use a dryer at all remember, so obviously I'm not good at it. Even if the fly outs are done for, it'll a nice round big fleshy mushroom I'll have to settle for this time. Several meters away, it'll be mistaken for some lazy afro.
So you thought you had another bad hair day, with this length I'm having, it lasts for months till the satin effect kicks in again. :(
Then again, it's just hair. Time that I outgrow it.