What a Long , Strange trip it’s been ( 12 Goodbyes )

I mentioned my curiosity about time to my mom whenever I was still a child. I must have spoken up for the whole world , my future man in particular , and no one else speaks of time like me. It smells bad to me and I’d like to dine elsewhere. Time is not hygienic or sterilized. The crimes within a timeframe are nasty , like mean women in the bathroom before me. Never will I ever understand what goes on in that time that’s theirs in that stall that I need , 2. It’s not a big deal but I do like to have more to do with my time. 

I wish I could go back to my 3 o’clock haircut appointment. She didn’t cut enough off the ends. I don’t think she even wanted to cut off any of the ends. She might not have even wanted to give me a haircut at all. Maybe she wasn’t even supposed to be there. She was like a prisoner. Her job was to tell me I’m beautiful even if she feels that I am ugly to her. Lucky for her, I felt that way. All she had to do was see what I saw and pretend like it was her who saw it in the first place. She must have also had a few clients before me to get some practice in. I didn’t think to ask how her day was. I thought about her job a lot. I had been waiting all day for her to spray my bangs but then she failed to even do it. I tried to tell her to do it with my really loud thoughts. She heard anything but me so I said it louder. Instead of thinking it this time , I said it aloud while watching myself in the mirror. I felt like repeating myself for some reason , so I did. I repeated myself a few times. She happily took the spray bottle and sprayed my bangs before she cut them. She prevented me from being afraid for my next haircut , which would have been the case because of how my hair typically eludes the eye from being able to cut a straight line if it weren’t wet. Real life had just become my dream because of how honest I was with this stranger. For once , I stopped trying to be how I was yesterday to avoid being held to an unrealistic display of myself and instead I became whoever I was at that moment in the salon. I knew that she liked cutting other clients' hair better than my hair because I was causing her to feel like she had a different job than cutting hair. She was a professional doll groomer. She must have known I was emptying the contents of my mind at her station. No more thinking. Me , a woman , and the other clients who were men just sat there in our chairs. One of them looked at me through his mirror. It seemed like he wanted something from me after all of that , like he knew what I had done in my head. I was still thinking about my stylist's career , while I looked back at him. 

Hair changes from day to day , but it never makes plans to make you angry. How angry can someone get about their hair ? 

Me : “ someone should have a choice : to wear the wig my hair made or to have no hair from cancer treatments. “

Rapunzel : “ What ? “

Me : “ Locks of Love is an organization that collects 8 - 12 inches of hair donations for wig manufacturing. All wigs go to cancer patients who have lost hair during chemotherapy. “

Rapunzel : “ I don’t know what life could be without my long locks. “

Me : “ Maybe you don’t need your man anymore , and you can donate with me on Tuesday. “

Rapunzel : “ How much hair could a doll donate if a doll could donate hair ? “

Me : “ 12 inches “

Rapunzel : “ I shall donate 55 inches along with everything it brought me. “