Final English 101, page 1

My Hair Imitates My Life or is My Life Imitating My Hair?

I’m constantly tangled up in the chasms of my life as they shift in front of my eyes almost if they are one of those fly in effects on the PowerPoint Program that pop in as if magic and fade into nothingness. I am constantly being choked by the tentacles of my hair as they wrap up my shoulders neck and back as if I’m in a straight jacket. My hair and I are literally intertwined and are one in the same. My hair is down to the top of my butt, a sea of ringlet curls racing towards the back of my feet, strawberry blond cascading tentacles thick like maritime rope sticking out in every direction, with constant movement as if it has a life of its own. The three ways my hair and I are alike is that we are both stuck in time defined by our past, unmanageable at times, and in a constant state of unstoppable change.
We are both stuck in time my hair and I being defined by our style, our outlook, our attitude. We are defined by an era in which we never lived. The long hair with no bangs and no restraint reminiscent of the flower children of the 60’s defined and judged by an outward appearance rather than the prism of the person within the person. People see my hair and the often consider me a hippie. My family has told me numerous times my long disheveled hair do went out of style in 1965. My views on the world like caring more for others more than myself, sharing myself, and my intense at times empathy for others are views that are quite antiquated in this modern 2010 world. I feel strongly that if others could take time out from their excruciatingly fast paced technology driven lives and just stand in a field of daisies with one another and discuss family, love, and the environment I think we would all be in a more perfect world. The concept of true love, true empathy, and being more than yourself may be permanently rooted in the 60’s and my hair is firmly rooted there is well unrestrained, falling to and fro’, searching for its self in the realm of greater good. It has twists and turns that are free cascading daring others to be a part of our world.
The second way my hair and I are alike is that at many times we are unmanageable. My hair has a life of its own curly out of control with humidity and rain and blowing out of control in the winds, and frizzing up to twice its volume despite others trying to calm it down. I too quite often am out of control like my unmanageable curls. I get locked in on helping my friend fight his alcoholism and it’s as if a dark blind obscures my vision to the rest of the world. I’m unmanageable I won’t attend to other things like school work, cooking, other friends or family. I’m stubborn and determined to focus on the problem that I’m determined to fix or solve when the only solution may be that there is no solution. I’m often unmanageable when I have strong feelings when I have panic attacks and no amount of coping skills is going to stop the process of panic I must traverse the attack to the other side; often like no amount of gel, crème, or detangler will put the rope like curls in some acceptable order. My life and my curls are often very hard to manage but they eventually return to a subtle state of order every now and then awaiting the next wind, rain, cause, or problem that lacks a concrete social acceptable solution.