Farewell Freak Flag
After not cutting my hair for a year, tomorrow I’m going to get the clippers out and give myself a crew cut. Kinda disappointed, I had hoped to just let it grow. But in the shower tonight big plugs of hair were just coming out in my hands, so rather than look like a molting bird, I’ll just cut it off.
I guess another aspect of it is for years people have told me I look good, don’t look like I have stage 4 cancer, you seem strong, etc. Well the reality of not looking so good is setting in now. Lucky for me I have never been one to care much about “looking sharp”. I prefer comfortable clothes, don’t care about fashion or hairstyles and the like. What bothers me is that I may start to look frail, like the wounded gazelle that the lions start trailing.
I know I walk funny because my feet are all swollen, and I’m tired and weak all the time, but I like to “think” I look OK. I have always felt that out on the street one has to present a strong image, identify as a predator, not prey in order to survive. Pretty much anytime, any neighborhood, anywhere, I never worried that I couldn’t take care of myself. Now I am starting to realize that I’m not strong enough anymore to feel that way. Oh well, it is what it is, can’t change it, just have to accept and adapt.
