Sexta-feira 17 Dez 2010, 4h:42

My first real journal entry. This I'll used to vent my hulk-rage before i go out and kill him with his own scissors. Who is he? He is the neighborhood barber. He has a little shop with two chairs. He's been here pretty long now. Long enough that it would seem that he would know what he was doing.
I get there and i see three kids there, aged 6-9. He asks one of them what 200+200 is. The kid says 400. He says you are wrong,what have you been learning in schoole?
I feel apprehensive. May be he doesn't know what he is doing.
But he seems nice enough so i think what the hell. How hard could be to cut a bit of hair?
Its my turn. My hair was long, MAJESTIC. Fell to about three inches below the chin. Its almost perfect. Its long enough to be metal but not too long. It served a huge purpose in my life. Times have been tough. It was the one thing that i was proud of. My only achievement in the last 5 years. Besides learning a bit of guitar.
I told him i want 1-1.5 inch off.
The massacre begins. He starts cutting. I pay little attention to what he is doing. May be it was meant to be. He finishes the right side and asks me if its fine. My hair is at mid-nose length now. FUCK YOU FUCKING BARBER MY HAIR IS AT MID-NOSE LENGTH NOW. In the shock, horror and hopelessness of it all and at the realization that its gone and he can't do anything to replace it is say yeah its fine. I feel numb.
I remember the toil i went through for this hair. The summer with 40+°C temperature when i grew it out for the hope that it will be so fucking awesome when winter came. And it was awesome. It was better than i could have ever imagined.
Till the day i met the barber who turned my metal hair to shit in 15 minutes.

Now i know i want to learn how to cut my own hair.
And some people do not know what 1-1.5 inch means.

FUCK YOU FUCKFACED BARBER I HOPE YOU DROWN IN A POOL OF PUBIC HAIR!