It’s really my form of baptism. With the cutting away of old, dead cells, I am washed clean and new. Away with the the eavesdroppers, the split ends with eyes of their own. If I am to move on, I must leave them behind.
One day I’m sure I’ll shave my head, just to see what it feels like to be witnessless.
I was watching Flight of the Conchords last night. Hilarious.
Bowie's in space, man.
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