05/11/2012 YOU SIGNED UP FOR IT
When you ask me to cut your hair, it’s like, man, you’re signing up for a trip, I mean like A TRYYP. Not because I want it to be that way, just because it’s the way it is, it’s just like, out of my control.
I’m going put my fingers inside your head, puncturing that pretty thin film of social posture, of what your outfit looks like or who your boyfrien’ is, what your job is, what your music sounds like, how much $ you got, etc. etc. etc. and I’m not doing it because I think you deserve it, or because I deserve it, because you know that nobody deserves ANYTHING.
If you think I’m gonna pull out my damns ruler scissors and give you some 2D mathematical Vidal Pretty Smooth Sexy Flat bull-ish thing that feels symmetrical and like, EVEN(?) and balanced, lined-up, Mommy Daddy Will Love It:
You’re gonna be real mad at me when I’m done.
Because I mean, like I’m just going 2 get Real with you for a real brief moment when I tell you that I use my scissors like I:
Listen to your voice/
Look into your eyes/
Watch your breath/
See your hands move/
Think about your baby times/
Pay attention to your neck-pulse/
Touch every part of your weird bumpy head,
*And basically like, just RESPOND.
**To your completely insane, totally asymmetrical, wholly uneven and perfectly ridiculous Sacred insides.
You gonna feel some crazy ish happening under that surface. There will be one inch pieces hiding behind your ears and there will be circles and squares and diamonds and triangles missing, and they might even be holding hands with each other. I’m not making the rules, I’m merely responding to your hideously exquisite metaphysical cranial landscape.
Don’t get mad at me if it feels weird, I’m just trying to Acknowledge you, Baby.
*I also am really obsessed with your cheekbones and usually do whatever I need to do to emphasize their importance to the world, with some slice-gestures
**Also, if you ask me to cut your hair and you secretly don’t trust me, your haircut is going to be a total disaster. Don’t Do Me Like That (or You like that, maybe more importantly)