This is the beginning, about a week old here. I went to San Fran with a very close friend. Throughout this year, we have grown apart and no longer speak.
They were a lot looser then. More poofy, and although I am still in love with my dreads as they are now, I think back and miss this stage.
Found in the center of a playground I went to. I have been 5'3" since i was twelve.
I went camping two days after I returned from San Fran. Some place far back in Maine which included the perfect spot for clam digging for the family I went with, although I can't bring myself to eat them myself. Lots of salt water and palm rolling for the week and a half we were out there.
This is Patrick, he put my dreads in for me<3 For a long while he also tamed them, daily. There have been a lot of changes with us, since my dreads began as well. Mistakes have been made. I have almost removed my dreads, since they have captured these memories it seems, but things, regardless of happy, sad, are worth remembering to me now. At least I am not stagnant.
After camping I washed them for the first time. They were about a month old. They unravelled quite a bit. But, after lots of wet palm rolling, they stayed.
I wasn't very happy about them loosening up.
October. Suspended from school, for being undead.
In the middle of all of this, I don't have many pictures. My father became very heavily addicted to coke, and I was in and out of the hospital battling with myself. I left school, and started taking classes online. I was your typical hermit. Eventually I broke through, after Daddy put his best friend in a coma while coked out. This is his dog Hei Hoe, "black fire", according to hospital bed ridden Allen, after he finally woke up, a few months later. Still missing a huge chunk of his skull, I went to visit him with my father. Allen named the dog that day, covered in drool dripping from his chin. Later, my dad fled the state, and Hei Hoe dissappeard.
Around this same time, my hair color changed. I started spending more time outside, it was nice. More of a home then I knew before.
Eventually I became restless, and here came the blonde.
I don't remember this time period very well. I don't believe I was sober a single day this entire time, which in my mind seems like a span of a couple months. I wish I could remember, a lot of questions could be answered that way. I began modeling, made a lot of mistakes that I am still hillclimbing to rectify.
I went through an entire fire engine red stage, which I cannot find any pictures of. After that, we tried to get my hair back to a natural color. This is this morning upon my waking up.
My dreads have grown, accumulated smells, feels, been chewed on by fatherless dogs, worn by fatherless daughters, touched by strangers, lost jobs, gained, became. They remind me. They force me. Some are starting to break, inside them, maybe there are little parts of me I have finally moved past.