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Tuesday January 17th 2012, 9:49 pmA little bit dry, and a little bit corse. Parts are smooth and soft. Other parts get knotted and tangled. Semi-long spiraling strands group together to form corkscrew ringlets, like zigzagging tiny fine wires, that manage to unite like a choreographed perfomance to form a single bold and classic shape that hugs and extends outward all at once. Grays, browns, salt and pepper, the colors are distinguished I think, giving a unique sense of self. It fits me just right, my personality. It always tries to grow unevenly, making me fret, but I won’t ever get rid of it. Some mornings I wake up and it sits sideways, or splits in the middle awkwardly, it can make me quite goofy looking. Like it taunts my seriousness, visually saying to me from the mirror “What, you think you’re cool? Look what I can do.” Then it gets tamed for the day. I find that I unconsciously run my fingers through the thick bristly forest, like some sort of stereotypical book character, that thinks they’re wise or something. I can’t imagine myself without having it with me anymore though. I guess we have a relationship. Maybe I’ll let it get longer, enter into contests.
My Beard
January 17th 2012
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