A little thing, like children putting flowers in my hair, can fill up the widening cracks in my self-assurance like soothing lanolin.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad.
My hair is capable of doing a lot of different things.
The more I mistreat my hair, the stronger it grows back. I think it must be determined to survive.
I always feel better when my hair looks good.
In real life, I swear by Edge Control by Olive Oil. My hairstylist hates it, but it's everything to me. And I mean everything! It's like a perm in a little jar of gel.
I'm undaunted in my quest to amuse myself by constantly changing my hair.
I'm always having to be told to brush my hair.
You know, sometimes I feel well and vital in the world, and sometimes I just feel so distressed I want to pull my hair out by the roots.
I've had some real hair disasters.
My mother persuaded me not to pluck my eyebrows when I was a teenager - right now I'm so grateful I never did! She also taught me to pour 2 kg. of salt in my bath whenever I feel swollen and tired - and to end it with a cold shower. It does wonders.
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