(Yes, there’s a Pepsi bottle in the trash behind me. Michael was informed not to do that again.)
At one and a half months some of my dreads were thinner than pencils. While that’s cute, there were just too many of them. So I twisted some of the tiny ones into each other, making them fatter and more interesting. The only problem is the twisted ones no longer look like dreads. They look like, well, confusion.
Random people stop me, unsure if they are dreads, really crappy braids, or if I just need a shower. Slowly though, they’re coming along.
Christine said we’re all freaks, to let the freak flag fly. That’s what this hair is starting to feel like to me. Before, all my weirdness was on the inside. I cold be a totally normal girl in my jeans and t-shirt, hair up in a ponytail. Nothing freaky there.
Now my freak is all out on display. And it feels good.
In the theme of self-love and letting it out, I’ve decided to get a carnation tattoo on my arm. The one in this picture to be exact. The carnation is the flower for January, the month I was born. It’s name roughly translates to “flower of the gods”, and if you believe in flower meanings it is supposed to represent fascination, distinction, and love. Not to mention carnations are the flower of Mother’s Day. I can’t think of a better image to have blazed across my arm.
When I’m walking around, wild dreads everywhere, huge tattoo across my arm, and my head held high no one for a minute will doubt they’ve met one of the freaks of the world. And maybe, my outside will match my inside a little more.
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