It was barely raining, just enough to make the stress, nervousness and fear seem that much more pressing. I was surrounded by dozens of people equally as scared and as confused as I was. I still had my hair, my wild, gorgeous hair; but, I was sure that the next day I would have it unceremoniously shaved off along with everyone else surrounding me. The feeling of having made a horrible a mistake was creeping on me and didn't leave for the next nine weeks and it was only made worse when the drill sergeant stepped out and started bellowing in ways I'd only seen in movies. Still, even with all the anxiousness and confusion, all I could think about was how I'd soon lose my hair. To relax, I started thinking about all the weird shapes and styles my hair had had over the years and all the different times I'd dyed it. Blue black, bleached blonde highlights, emo cut, business in the front and party in the back. Out of everything in the entire situation I had walked myself into, my life for the next six years, a life that I started willingly and would take me around the world and into one war zone. There, at the beginning of it all, all I could think about was my hair.
Created: Jun 26, 2017Paulie_Records Document Media