I usually wouldn't let a matter as trivial and vain as the one about to be brought up get into my blog, but it's one that it'd probably be healthier for me in the long term if i used this as a theraputic discourse to get to grips with how i feel about it. I'm going to talk about receeding hairlines.
It was pretty much a definite sentance that i was going bald. Off the top of my head i can't think of any male in my immediate family that doesnt have some sort of a balding pattern, but as a child this seemed inadequate to my other problems such as what i was going to name that woodlouse, and how i was going to stab my sister without getting charged with attempted murder by the all seeing law that was granny betty. During my teens however, it started actually happening, but nothing to dastric, i took it as a joke, and so did the yearbook when i was put in as most likely to be bald by the age of 20. But in the last few months i've noticed it getting alot worse, i had my hair beatles pop years length and when i got it shaved i was kindof shocked, so i grew it again to cover it up, but it won't cover it up this time, which is the frustrating bit.
Infact i've drawn you a diagram to better explain what i'm saying
So now i'm stuck with stupid looking long hair, or stupid looking short hair, and i don't even have the face for it to make me look old.
By writing this i thought i'd come to some sort of conclusion. Have i? i don't think i have.
I greeted you as Kyle Daniel Lochhead, and i leave you, as Kyle Daniel Lochhead, the man who now wears hats, and what a perfect time to introduce them into my life than winter.
Well, good night, ladies and gentlemen, and this night, don't take ur hair for granted with a thought of the possibility of waking up with your hair all over the pillow tomorow, and blood actually, to make it worse.. your mums blood.
Peace and love x