hair today gone tomorrow

well my fans have been patiently waiting for another inspired pearl from deep within the cognitive grayness on the darkside of my ocular cavities. I was sent an e-mail, this one inparticular had an attachment, photo of some redhead. My friend, on a whim decided to dye her hair red. earlier in the week a former co-worker came into Starbucks sporting jet black hair. yesterday I just got bored and took a pair of clippers to my noggin. with one strand of hair scientests can determine what type of diet one has, were one lives, race, and virtualy unlimited DNA information. like the rings on a tree our hair provides a rich history to those who know how to dicipher it. Imagine once one decides to walk into the hair stylist or the drugstore to pick up that box of dye, they have decided to alter the course of their life. the stylist will shampoo, snip, snip, buzzzz, buzzz, a little, a lot, somewhere between, maybe none at all. they apply color or peroxide to remove existing color. perhaps a million tiny strands of your old self being swept into a pile mingling with other salon patron's past personas. Just sewpt into a dust pan and thrown out. when the process is finished you walk out an apparantly new person with a renewed confidance. It will more or less conform to your asthetic notion of what is the new "you". For a split second people you know won't recognise you. even though you are still essentially the same, the same likes and dislikes, same taste in music.