In case you couldn’t tell from the title graphic, I shaved off my mohawk.

Everybody asks me why, so here’s a brief explanation: I went a couple days wearing a hat instead of putting my mohawk up, and I realized I was no longer the center of attention everywhere I went. The lack of that annoyed me, because I absolutely adored the attention.

The whole thing was an exercise in getting used to being the center of attention. Why? I used to be super shy, and that pretty much forced me to come out of my shell and be very open and friendly and outgoing and get used to managing high levels of attention wherever I went.

So once I wasn’t getting the level of attention I was used to, I realized I was getting far too vain, and that it was just becoming a cheap attention-getting trick. I absolutely loved having it, and never got tired of it in the ten plus months I had it. I was faster than ever at putting it back up and it being impressive, and if anything, I loved it MORE at the end than at the beginning.

But I decided I’d rather shave it off and look normal, and find other ways to be distinctive. Regardless of how much I enjoyed it.

I can be pretty fucking impulsive, and that was definitely one of those times. I sat down, thought about it for about two minutes, then walked into the bathroom and shaved it off without a second thought, with a smile on my face the whole time.

Nothing is sacred. Not even the things I love. If I think I can benefit from it, I’ll do it, no matter how much I feel like I’ll hate it. I trust my own judgment enough to violently contradict it and take seemingly ridiculous risks. It’s worked out pretty fucking well for me so far so I feel no reason to stop doing it. :)

I’d like to mention, on a totally wild tangent, that in this particular strain of thinking, I’ve met a girl that’s absolutely wonderful that’s completely redeemed my faith in womankind. Prior to meeting her, I was literally committing to give up on all relationships — male or female, just to cover all bases — for an entire year. Every girl I’d met since my divorce (and my whole life, upon further reflection) was completely batshit insane, and made me feel worse off than before simply for having met them.

Then I met this girl one night, on a completely ridiculous coincidence, and we fell ridiculously in love and I’m happier than I’ve ever been, even far, far before the soul-destroying divorce I’ve gone through. I never thought I’d love again, and I’d been ready on resigning myself to lonely, relationship-less life full of nothing and no one but me. But I met her, fell in love, realized what a relationship really could be and came alive. Life is great and it’s worth taking risks over.

Nothing is ever as bad as you think it is. If you learn nothing else from me, remember that and act accordingly. You’ll be surprised what happens.