Lone sounds lead into a new world but I am not ready. There is so much hair that needs to be cleaned up right now. Under a shag of my own excess and it’s getting far, far too warm.
I let it all grow out beyond my shoulders. Down to the middle of the back. It was fine then. It was manageable. There was little to worry about. Didn’t have to put too much thought or effort into its being there. Could swish it around and there were no issues of it getting tangled in stuff. Fine things.
I probably should have cut it then, but that was not to be. Instead I was enjoying its length and volume. I liked that I could make it spread out by moving my head quickly. I liked that a breeze would pick it up and make it move in a few different directions until it found some sort of uniform formation. Didn’t like untangling the knots, but you take the good with the bad, as they say. Ultimately it wasn’t that big of an issue, as far as I was concerned.
When the hair got down to my waist, it was beginning to feel a bit more weighty than it had in the past. This wasn’t much of a problem. It was nothing that I couldn’t handle. Harder to swish around, but sometimes that is the way things go. I could kind of shape it into different shapes and make it look as messy as I wanted. Not an issue. I could tie it up in a few different ways and still have plenty of hair left dangling on down. It was fun. It was annoying, but it was fun.
That’s when the problems started, however. That is really when I should have cut it and freed myself from the responsibility of so much hair. Of course, I did not.
From that length the hair started growing rapidly. Far more so than it had previously. It was quite quickly becoming rather unruly and uncooperative. It was not long before I had no choice but to drag the hair behind me, for tying it up in different ways was causing a great strain on my neck and, eventually back. Then it wasn’t too long before I had little choice other than to remain where I was for most of the time, and this of course was causing issues as I was much preferring not to become sedentary. I had things to do and places to be and all this hair was just getting in the way of it all.
It started to smother the roads and block off entryways and exits. This was not boding well for other people either. Sudden;y they had a whole lot of hair that they needed to contend with, and it wasn’t even theirs. It was just piling up where they needed to pass through. Footpaths and roads were being engulfed. It dd not abate at all and it just kept on pushing onward.
Strangely enough, there were few, if any who attempted to cut the hair themselves. As much as it was wanted to be known as to why, no one was willing to offer any reasoning or explanation. It is possible that perhaps they felt overwhelmed by what they were witnessing. It is rare to see so much hair, let alone it increasing in length and volume at such a rapid rate.
And so people left it all alone and tried to pretend that it didn’t exist. Despite it becoming more and more a part of people’s lives, they kept on pretending that it was not there. When faced with no way of avoiding it? Then it was always there. There was never anything to the contrary. There never was a time when the hair didn’t exist and it was fine that way.
However, once it started filling up stairwells and causing lifts to jam, that’s when people really started to properly take notice and decide that perhaps there should be something done about the issue at hand.
Still, there was a lot of slow action on the whole thing; thus the hair continued unabated. At the very least people were more willing to pay attention and raise their concerns; that was positive change.
Once it started affecting public transport a little too severely, that’s when people really started getting up in arms. Private vehicle owners, long ignored in their disgruntled cries were finally afforded some sense of vindication as all united in looking to stop the follicle folly from continuing and so there finally was a better sense of progress and awareness. It soon would reach the point where proactive action would take place.
At this point I had little in the way of anywhere I could go, for the weight was keeping me in a rather limited range. I hadn’t been outside in a while and had gone past a point of stress and was more resigned and detached to the whole issue. I had nothing of which I could use to cut my hair within available reach as unfortunately the hair had blocked off access to anything I could use.
At some point whilst waiting around for the day to pass I heard someone approaching from some distance. Through the rear entry of my residence they made their way in and somehow managed to push their way through all the hair. I heard their muffled sounds and looked in the direction I believed them to be coming from. It took a little while, but eventually a person popped their way out of the mass of hair.
They looked at me for a moment and then held up a pair of scissors. I looked at them, then the scissors and found a growing sense of relief erase my firm sense of resignation. Without much in the way of words, they walked up to me. Then they carefully, yet determinedly started cutting through my hair.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 15:50:83
This came from a simple thought: “I haven’t written about hair in a while.”
I feel that what I wrote flows well but overall my use of words leaves a bit to be desired.
Written at home.