do not rely on this broadcast alone (frontlinelogon) wrote in get_up_dread_up,
do not rely on this broadcast alone
frontlinelogon
get_up_dread_up

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re: things continue.

just a few photos, and some poems.




life is pretty much screwy right now.

here's what my hairs be doin'.

the dark brown from my stripes is still waaay darker than the rest of my hair, which makes my dreads look super-short in this photo. if you look closely, you can see they're pretty long these days. hooray!

close-up!


here's a problem dread of mine, one of the five babies i started a few months back:

i had originally planned to let it do it's own thing, but it only seemed to be getting worse and the weight distribution made it a constant irritation. it just felt tense, is the best way to describe it.

i finally decided to do something... at first i was just gonna hack it off, and then i thought i might just cut the big lump off from the ends. i ended up ripping them apart and leaving the lump intact on the end of one of the dreadlets.

this is the most active step i've taken in a while in regards to my dreads. if i'm not satisfied with the change in a while, i'm probably going to pull them apart and try to start again.

la la la, i quit my job.

this is one of the many things i do/did at work. me quitting my job is relevant to this post because this is the job that i've had for two years, with a boss who's hated on everything about my physical appearance the entire time. my boss is one of those types who believes he knows everything about you by the way you present yourself. from day one, he has never respected me and has talked shit about my appearance on a regular basis to any other employee who will listen--generally within earshot of me. he doesn't call me by my own name, but prefers to use a jamaican name he looked up on a website because he thinks it's clever. he has never once held his tongue when expressing his utter distaste and disapproval in every modification i've ever had--despite my constant practice of checking if said modifications are work-acceptable. (his critiques are not limited to my mods though--he's commented on everything from my hair to my clothes to my shoes to my makeup or lack thereof.) my boss's consistent negativity to my appearance isn't the deciding factor in my quitting--my hand was kinda forced on his behalf in another matter--but it sure wasn't a reason to stay.

it's also relevant to this post because now that i'm out of there, the possibility of a dreadhawk is becoming that much more tangible. :)



this is my at-home face, haha. check out the sweet bags under the eyes, super classy. on top of quitting my job, i also recently found out that my plans for grad school hav been seriouly derailed. i'm trying to look at the positive for the time being, but it's been a bit rough as i've had my heart set on this grad school for some time.

mostly i'm allowing myself to be open to the idea that this is all happening as it's meant to, even if i myself don't get it right now. i reached a good state of panic the other day because this all happened within a period of 48 hours, but i've since chilled out a bit. i'm taking it a step at a time because there's not much else to be done right now. here's a few poems that i find particularly comforting, given how things are kind of in theoretical shambles around me. i'm trying to keep the positive energies goin'... hope you're doing the same.


The Road not Taken - Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.



The Wayfarer - Stephen Crane

The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."



I Met A Seer - Stephen Crane

I met a seer.
He held in his hands
The book of wisdom.
"Sir," I addressed him,
"Let me read."
"Child -- " he began.
"Sir," I said,
"Think not that I am a child,
For already I know much
Of that which you hold.
Aye, much."

He smiled.
Then he opened the book
And held it before me. --
Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.




i think stephen crane is my poetic soulmate.


and that's that.
much love!
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