New Face.

I guess the real reason that I go through a makeover literally on the day is to free myself from what I used to be. I'm trying to reinvent myself. Yeah, I know. Its old.

So I've taken the liberty of completely shaving my head and having like 1mm buzz all over and I'm sitting here, looking like I am recovering from chemotherapy. And I like it.

Every time I touch my head, I am reminded that I no longer have to use shampoo, showering takes a minute less, and every time I look in the mirror, I don't see me.

I'm looking through you
Where did you go?
I thought I knew you
What did I know?
You don't look different
But you don't look the same
I'm looking through you
You're not the same - Beatles

I don't see the me that I remember. I used to spike my hair up. Now, it lies flat. Dead. Whatever. It doesn't exist. Nada.

I wished I was courageous enough to get contacts so I change my look even more. It would be so cool if I could do that. Buzzcut and without glasses. Absolutely awesome.

I still miss you, you know.

But it does not matter, does it? No.

I stayed at work because I don't want to go to an empty house. Empty houses too full of memories that I am not sure that I can remember without going insane.

Weather is cloudy as anything today. I think the universe is mourning with me. Like my haircut.

Back in biblical times, you used to shave your head to show remorse, beg forgiveness, to show mourning. And I'm doing exactly that. I think I need to.

I read this article and it speaks straight to the heart.

It speaks of change and it speaks of having the courage to face yourself or whatever it is that is out there that will get you, that will hurt you, that will want to pull you down.

I want to echo his words, "I need the primal ferocity that a buzz cut proclaims."

We differ a lot, we two. I am picking up the pieces after a break up. He is fighting through hormone and chemo from cancer. Some will proclaim that I cannot compare myself to him. Sure, of course, I can not do that and call myself a man. It is unfair, stupid, foolish, unjustifiable even, that I dare compare my emotional turmoil to a man who is standing on the border of death and still laughs and growls.

But at this moment in time, I need as much courage from wherever I can get it. Whether its slapping myself in the face with the yelling chorus of "toughen up, boy!" or shaving my head so I look like an ex-criminal or listening to songs that talk about putting on a new face (thanks, Jason Mraz) or falling down on my knees at the altar of a church, I need to get courage wherever I can find it.

Because Lord knows...I cannot do this on my own. I cannot not because I do not want do but because I am unable to.