is the color of my hair. I don't know if I really like it, although I don't hate it. I think I like it. We'll see. My sisterlocks are only half-finished. Pink scalp exacerbates the plucked-chicken look.
Before we started the locks. Note how pink my scalp is. You can't see it here, but the baby hairs are still blond from the bleaching.
My sort-of-friend calls me bizarre, which I sort of don't hate anymore, and which is probably accurate, more or less. I'm starting to embrace the bizarre, or else I'm just giving up, one or the other.
In a futile attempt to counteract the continued lack of sex, friendship, and affection in my life, I'm reading all the books, listening to all the albums (metal, screamo, punk, band suggestions welcomed heartily), learning languages, starting a podcast, writing angry songs that my voice isn't really loud enough to sing and strange existential essays on the meaning of life, plunking away on the guitar, and indulging my nerdBeing™.
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