Hair Revelations

I've been growing my hair now for almost as long as I've been living in Melbourne – I remember the last time it was cut was by the girlfriend of some guy from Perth that was living in my hostel last year. She shaved it down to a number three in the basement TV room and I left my towel on the chair. A year of growth has it at a length at least as long as it has ever been, although I think it's probably longer, and in the past few weeks I've finally been able to tie it all back into a knot if I make sure it's up pretty high to catch all the hair off my fringe. Fuck yes.

I never realized all the shit I could do with hair this long, it's fucking great, I just took down after having it up all day as I charged around the city printing, writing and completing a six-month lie to centrelink... and when I took it down it stayed back. Way back behind my ears, held in place by the magic of fucking WHO KNOWS! If I swish it forward I can have one side over my face and the other side stays back – I would have killed for this knowledge when I was nineteen. As it is now, I don't really want to swish it over my face and provoke already-prevalent cries of “Bieber” or “Fucken Poof”, but it's nice to be aware of my options.

My stand against product continues. No gel. No hairspray. No dumb fucking wax bullshit that I have to wash out of my hair every day; get fuwarked L'Oreal or whoever makes that sticky rubbish. My hair can stand up all by itself.

Peace, Taco.