meant to include this too but the 4 turned into 5 am

I fell asleep after 5 in the morning. Right after I finished the previous post, I wanted to include what I'm going to put here. 

Posting again right after I finished a post didn't settle well with me though. 

So it's around 11 hours later. 

----------------

1. You grab some hair. It's yours. You didn't notice it until now. It's a mess. It is long. When did it get this long? You can't remember. You don't know why. Then while on the phone talking to your mom, you tell her that you want to get a haircut during Thanksgiving break. Your dad is also on the phone. He asks or tells you to cut off eleven inches of hair. You can't remember if he phrased it as a question, statement, or command. You don't even have eleven inches of hair. You say yes. For the past few years, you've always had the strongest desire to cut your hair in the colder months. You want to cut your hair short in the winter to be a rebel. You want short hair. Your hair is long again. Long hair is annoying. Your hair is a disaster. 

http://thejamaamist.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-is-actually-me.html

I went through with it. 

I didn't hesitate this time around. I simply told her I want my hair to be shoulder length. 

And nothing more. 

I'm sick of long hair. I'm sick of the feminine parts of my body. Yet I don't hate hearing "her" when someone refers to me anymore. I used to hate hearing "her"; it left a bad vibration in my ears, a bad taste in my throat. Now "her" doesn't feel malicious in my heart. 

 . . . . . .

"Often, I am upset that I cannot fall in love, but I guess this avoids the stress of falling out of it. Are you tired of me yet? I'm a little sick right now, but I swear, when I'm ready I will fly us out of here. 

Ooh~ I'll cut my hair. Ooh~ to make you stare. Ooh~ I'll hide my chest. And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here. 

[...]

Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead. 'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head. But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet. 

Ooh~ my eyes went dark. Ooh~ I don't know where. 

[...] 

Get a load of this monster. He doesn't know how to communicate. His mind is in a different place. Will everybody please give him a little bit of space? 

Get a load of this trainwreck. His hair's a mess, and he doesn't know who he is yet." 

-- 'This is Home' by Cavetown 

This song means so much to me. 

For once, I think about myself first and not my characters. 

That's why I included a lyrics video to this song back in September. 

What I put in bold are the lyrics that seem significant to me. 

It's all up to interpretation, I guess.