age dilemmas

last week i decided (more like forced, thanks for nothing france!) to cut my hair, and all i could think of is how much i want to choke whoever chopped my long, long hair into this one big mass of black, ugly fibers. whatever his name is, i think he sucks. i told him, i just wanted a trim, not a massive obliteration of my beloved hair length.

and so right now, instead of looking like the kick-ass, non-conformist alec maquiling that i thought i once was, i now don the 12 year-old jose rizal vision. one-sided bangs and all that sucky, jologs jazz.

ahh.. fuhrustraaating!

what makes all this hooh-haah more miserable is that i really want to look mature and old. someone respectable. or if not, someone who looks like my age. an 18 year old junior majoring in biology and a prospective candidate for the "mr. world-dominator" title. not a 12 year old boy with an extended breastfeeding phase. it is one of the greatest dilemmas in my life that i'm trying to solve. and my new haircut is not helping it. and to top it all off, someone just asked for my identification card. it would have been ok if they asked for the identification cards of everyone i'm with that night. but, sadly, the idiotic people in that establishment singled me out. thank god for my driver's license!

fuck them... them... ah.. idiots!

i'm seriously considering dyeing my hair white. or frowning, so that all those wrinkles will appear.

how pathetic.