Dear Die-ary...

ARGH It took me fricken ages to find that picture, but it was so worth it.

Most of my friends would be pleased to know that today my mom bought me some hair straighteners. In case you are some random person from Norway who I've never met before, my hair's gelled to stay curly (in effect, it's still considered 'Natural'), so people complain of the slimeyness. Anyway, so I managed to get some straighteners. But, when I thought about it, I didn't want them. I don't want them. It would make my hair straight, just like everyone else's, and I wouldn't be 'Bob' anymore. I'd be... just another carbon copy. I promised myself back when I was before the age of 10, that I would never use anything on my hair to change it. Then I started gelling it. And now I have straighteners. I also promised myself I'd never use make-up on myself, so... one day I'll probably use it. And I'd become more like the person I shouldn't be. Next I'd be into boys and soap operas, and 'it' (I do not like the word...life) wouldn't be enjoyable anymore, and I'd be like everybody else, not an indervidual, but just a carbon copy like all the plastics. A bottle of water. A barbie doll. A dalek. The same as everyone else. We should all be like Subway sandwiches, all different in every way, different bread, different filling, different sauce... I'm hungry now. How much I can write about hair straighteners!! Let's continue. I wish I could just get those straighteners, turn them on, and clamp them to the box they came in and watch them BURN away. Thinking about it, it is more economically wise to use them straighteners instead of the gel, but I don't care. I always give in to peer pressure, and I hope someone convinces me to pump every drug under the sun into me altogether before... it's too late.

Guess what mood I'm in now.

# Bobbin slithered back into the shadows at 7:01 PM