Hair. (commissioned by Dennis)

dennisatl wrote this to me:
I was thinking “write about hair”, since you’ve got some of it/lots of it that makes your life interesting.  Pete/clarkelane has written some about his hair and beard, tho he’s much more changing his all the time. And you just posted the funny while-back icons of you sans beard.   
Then since your
(fuck!
 when-was-it?
  umm other day)
 recent post in the bathtub
(remember it. 
   can’t find it
        damn it)
and I remembered
and looked up
the one of you in the shower in Billings….
About Hair?
Good idea
i will have a section in my web page just like this
just… “about” things.
Hair?
one of the comments that’s always stuck with me i heard from a Rasta..
he said that they don’t cut their their hair
because God pulls you up to heaven by your locks…
in Hessidum and Amish cultures
the married woman must cover her hair (islam as well?)
because it is the most beautiful part of her
and it makes men desire her…
that should be kept for her husband…
no… what did that amish guy say?
“a woman’s hair is her Glory… and that is only for her Husband to see”
as “private” as breasts or vagina.. or cock!
but Hair?
My father is very hairy…
so is my brother.
my uncles… even on my mother’s side…
i’ve always loved hair.
my mother’s mother had grey curls
my mother had long hair when i was young..
my father had a beard
— i was forever angry at him after he cut it… (age 5?)
now that we’re not enemies anymore
he has a beard again!
but body hair?
my father and brother are fat!
they’re fat and furry!
my teacher
who i seduced when i was 14
he was really fucking furry
the other kids in class would make fun of him
when he would say “Oh, it’s so hot in here!”
they would shout
“well, you’re wearing two sweaters! take one of them off!”
shaving? or did they all want to see his furry chest a well?
and when i was fourteen
on those wrestling mats
his chest hair would be slick with sweat
from lifting weights
from straining to keep me down
i would nuzzle my face into the thick fur
inhaling the “old spice” and his own musk
my tongue would plow through those furrows
— i wrote about it in my first-ever-journal!
i was obsessed with the furr…
i was hairless
i was envious of my brother
a year older
and a fat boy…
why are fat boys furrier?
more testosterone from carrying around that weight all the time?
the Bull?
i started shaving around 13 or so
and i remember at 18 i would shave the little patch of hair in the centre of my chest
coz i hated that when i saw it on older men
— i wanted a rug
the measly splotch was an exacerbating insult!
the older men i would have sex with told me how i could get more, though
“when you’re jacking off
rub the cum into your belly and chest and it will make more hair grow”
i had heard it called “seed” before…
really?
i would usually just cum into the toilet..
or a tissue…
what a mess
what is that stuff?
ugh…
so i started trying it
and not too far afterwards i got a little treasure trail on my belly…
so i started rubbing it on my chest, my face even!
and in my hair…
i first grew my hair out long when was 14
my father told me i looked like a fucking girl
but he always said stuff like that
and i was happy to piss him off
— set myself apart…
set myself apart from everyone
my glasses (“john lennon!”, people would say)
corduroy blue shirt ( i got from my dad… and another from a thrift store )
why?
maybe because of the french noblemen who lost their heads in the revolution…
maybe the polish heros on horses
certainly the shagginess of the greek gods was more admirable than these meat-heads …
yeah, i used to have flat tops
i always imagined bleaching my hair and giving it a really sharp flat top
wear a big leather jacket
and kick all the asses of those boys who hurt me…
but no
i grew it out
after i studied tae kwon do
and realized i could kill anyone with my bare hands
i wasn’t afraid
when i realized was Gay
like Ginsburg and Wilde and Whitman and Morrissey
i knew i WAS one of the ancient Aristocracy
and i grew my hair out
like a beautiful woman
like a nobleman…
from another time.
When i was in europe, years later
an AnandaMargi Monk looked at me
with deep-gazing crossed eyes
silence
he said
“in you i see a very old, wise man.. a young, tender boy… and a Strong Woman”
i was proud.
i cut off my first long hair at the age of 17
into a pompadour for going to England
died it Cherry red
though i had certainly capitalized on that first long hair as a goth kid
as an androgyne
with eye-liner and lipstick
even at the prom!
i didn’t have a beard back then
beards were for hicks, of course
nothing made sense in those days…
my year in england was all about cutting my hair
with scissors
in my bedroom
all jagged..
when i started to let it grow
i had to go back to america
and buzzed all my hair off within a few weeks of being home
cutting my hair was a way of punishing myself
i remember it growing long that summer in NYC
it got so fucking hot
i let the faggots cut it
so i’d be pretty
short
stupid
i took my own blades to it and hacked it up…
it was messy
kept it shaved for a while in that year
meanwhile
i discovered bears
i had been talking with someone on IRC
and he sent me a picture
i said
“i’m not really into your look… i like big hairy guys”
“oh,” he said, ” you mean like Bears?”
i said…
“well, i’d have sex with a bear, yeah… but it’d probably fucking kill me”
“No!” he explained, “Big fat hairy guys call themselves Bears…”
OH.
“i’m not into fat”
it was later
it was later, i remember
when i was living in the desert with my hair short
do i still have pictures from those days?
my child hood friends said
“dominic: you need to grow your hair again”
i had a Samson complex
and not being able to grow my long hair was a failure
— my strength (perhaps God reaching down into my life?) was in my long hair
i let my beard grow
my hair grow
i got shaggy all over
and with that
stopped shaving that patch on my chest…
which now had accompanying nipple-fur
and a big belly grove…
the cum was working…
and my roommate/friend/lover Trevis
would always put his masturbated cum into his hair
so i started doing the same thing..
the low humidity in the desert kept the smell from spreading far…
and i got into bears!
big fat sexy furry men!
the pen-ultimate was my lover Robert
who i went to live with in Arkansas
before that
i always said i was attracted to “ugly” men
i would put quotes around it
coz i obviously found them really hot
but all the gay kids… and even the straight ones i knew
thought they were ugly..
older and fat and furry
eeewww, back hair!
LUSH!
Robert hair two inch hair all over him
big fucking thick furry dark hair
not much of a beard
but big fat thighs
and a hanging-over belly
big mountainous ass and thighs
he always talked about how ugly he was
yeah
he was an ugly guy..
he was so fucking hot!
i would worship his fat
his ingrown hairs on his thighs
his long fur
ohmygod
his back was amazing
he expanded my world
and was the first lover i let be my father/daddy in a loving way
but we also fought a lot because of it
… and he was also my mother..
my middle-man, i guess
sometimes
at bear-functions
guys would ask me
“why would a handsome guy like you be attracted to big fat hairy guys?”
i would explain
the ancient male archetype is thin and angular. hard. sharp.
the ancient female is big and soft and round
modern man is butch by his beard and body hair.. i guess
so i see bears as a combination of masculinity and feminitity
it’s mom and pop in one body
i can get harsh heavy fucking
and soft cuddling
agression and intellectuality
as well as emotionaly and caring…
cook for me, tuck me in, bathe me
hike up the mountain with me!
something like that
Also
i loved bears because of their big bellies, big bodies
thinking: well
if i want to be in my body with someone else (sex/sensuality)
do i want to be with someone who is a body fascist who wants to look like a Ken Doll?
or do i want to be with someone who finds pleasure through their body already?
their big bellies!
A Testament to their sensuality
eating to feel good
rubbing their bellies
those beards and all those body hairs..
antennae to feel even more
each one rubbing around and caressing and nuzzling and feeling…
— they liked that answer.
i cut off all my hair when i was 23
on that birthday
i did it as a ritual like i heard about in africa somewhere…
when boys turn 8 ( i think ) they shave EVERYTHING off their body
and from then on
they are a man
(everything that belongs to them is mature now… no childishness left…)
early in my traveling
i had to give away everything
it was too heavy to cary..
i thought of my hair as my own possession
my body, yes
but my hair was mine
i owned it
and more so
it was my history
it was what showed me that time really passed in my life
it was my history
all the dirt and sweat caught in their..
i heard they could tell if you did LSD from testing a strand of your hair…
i knew every cell that was created in that long chain of hair had my DNA in it
— it was a way of telling my story.
but i also knew that some of my story was bullshit.
so the reason i cut it off was to step into being my true self
(on the day my sun progressed into Cancer, and a new Horse cycle and the end of my numerological 9 cycle)
charms
my hair is a charm too
something i use to lure and seduce
and i just wanted to be honest:
i needed to really deal with shit
get into my emotions
and i knew that some of the tricks i’d played were locked in my magical hair
it was a sacrifice of self for self.
a more honest self.
however
after i cut it off
i also realized that i was an organ
a tool
i used it as antennae
to suck in all the magick, life
feel things out
hear thoughts, feelings..
i was left naked and dumb for a while
all the stuff i had
as a child
hidden in my hair so i could just get on and deal
( easy answers…)
came back with a vengeance…
i was very insecure and scared
judgemental
suicidal even!
it was terrible
i kept everything on my body shaved for 23 days
some of my bear friends were severely offended
the hair is a symbol of sensuality
and these embassadors of the sensual realm
thought i had rejected them
some were angry
one yelled “it’s a hate crime!”
“What?! do you think this makes you look better!”
their own insecurities
but i’d even shaved off my eyebrows
i certainly did not think it made me look better
but it was an amazing experience to feel naked like that for 23 days..
then i stopped shaving and cutting
trimmed on my birthday the next year, 2002
coz of all the terrorist stuff
people were afraid when they looked at me
so i trimmed my beard short back near my face
and grabbed my hair in my hands and cut the excess
(it was hot in germany at the time..)
then it just grew.
it’s been growing now since then
i had the dead ends trimmed off by a friend at a faery gathering in 2004
nothing really since then.
Hair is our history
it’s the weight of our life
and i feel that’s the reason that most people are always cutting it off:
it’s too much to bear.
like most of life.
it feels good to cut my hair
when i did that in Germany
that was part of the reason
to feel a bit of relief.
i sighed.
now i’m content knowing my hair is constantly falling out
as everyone’s does
but that’s why i don’t have dreads (well, a small reason)
i need to keep my hair flowing so things can fall off as they need to
the natural shedding of life
to keep things moving
so they don’t get too heavy…
have i said enough?
any questions?