Hairs are starbursts of tiny thoughts bundled in the million

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1. 

I always wear my hair short. I wonder how it feels to let it sprawl. And I become sickened with dread for not knowing - would I like a nice mane for myself? Now I understand why people paint on their skin, puncture layers of tissues and run rings through the nose. They just want to know.



2. 


Now it’s months since I got my hair cut. When my fingertip skims over the end of it, I, startled, seem to have met another self. 



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