Of Goat To Be Kidding Me

Once upon a time…. we used to settle our debts with a handshake and an agreement that you had in excess something I needed and I had more of something you needed, so we shook on it and a bargain was struck ..… wait; it is not a folk tale, it just might be the future….

Our crazy economy and its surrogate bond currency might be in for quite some change…. (no pun intended)

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I kid you not

A High Court judge made headlines for offering to goats as settlement in divorce proceedings….Newsday.jpg

….and the goat drama begun because shortly after;

The Ministry of Education was featured in the Sunday paper saying how schools must be flexible in matters of tuition fees and not just turn away pupils.  Parents and guardians can pay for their wards’ fees using livestock or do chores for the school in lieu of tuition.

The Newspaper article carried the headline Pay Fees With Goats:

And as you can imagine goats have broken Zimbabwean internet, people have way too much free time on their hands….

Oh yeah and so far its only schools that have been mandated to accept goats so don’t get carried away…

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To be honest though having parents selling their livestock to raise school fees is nothing groundbreaking but now it seems is somewhat implied that you just walk to the school leading your goat by the leash and hand it to the school headmaster.

What the ministry is proposing makes sense but then it’s not the kind of thing one wakes up and casually announces like “oh yeah, if you don’t have money you can bring in your goats as fees” and it does not really solve the root problem. Anyway how are the goats going to be converted into actual cash for the schools? I am guessing some livestock auction will have to happen; sounds simple enough but if people sell their goats because of not having money, whom oh whom is going to buy them? Some schools are probably going to end up with goats they cant find buyers for or selling them at less than market value, and another thing how exactly is the price of livestock going to be evaluated there’s bound to be lot of chicanery going on, people being the way they are; and in the interim where would the goats be kept, and what would happen if a goat dies? So many questions….

Imagine the unlikely event of every parent bringing a goat, cow or chicken; what a circus act schools would turn out to be and small wonder goat jokes are trending….

If the ministry has everything figured out they ought to say as much and explain how everything ought to work instead of vague newspaper quotes with room to a whole of misinterpretation.

Maybe our future currency is livestock; a legal framework to allow movable assets to be used as collateral or security when acquiring a bank loan, is on its way to being passed into law.

Banks only consider immovable property as collateral and if you don’t got none you won’t get a loan hun; no matter how lucrative the venture you need financing. The logic behind it doesn’t need any economist to figure out; you use immovable property as security because it guarantees one doesn’t up run away with it because hellooo immovable.

Enter The Movable Property Security Interest Bill; which seeks to make movable assets such as livestock, motor vehicles, furniture as collateral for bank loans. If the bill passes for a law this will make it a somewhat easier to get a loan but I am curious though who gets to keep the collateral, the thing with movable property, it can be lost, stolen, it depreciates and possibly dies, I’m no legal expert but I foresee an increase in civil and criminal lawsuits….

Banks best be using the super profits they made to build kraals and pens to hold their loan repayment securities.

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I had a dream of the future and it kinda smells like dung…..

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~B

Of Fifty Strands Of Grey

Titanium pearl
Metallic graphite
Silver dusk
Ash black
All shades of grey and counting

                                       How many grey strands do I have in my beard?

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50 strands of grey that’s how many I counted from my beard before I stopped counting…… The thing about counting your greys…, you know how a witch’s spell is spelled, the way naming it makes it real, it is just like that.
From the day you look in the mirror and discover your first grey, then you pull at it, all nonchalant, thinking it’s a strand of linen or an errand fabric, that has no business on your person, only to discover it hurts when you pluck it (you never forget that day when you realise you are aging) and you count it ONE. You panic a bit and then eventually kid yourself into forgetting about it, that it was a special limited, one-time only freak of nature, a once-off.

Every morning you spend longer than you normally do, starring at your reflection not because you like the way you reflect….. and just when you relax and start to think, “Phew! Dodged that bullet”…. and then there were THREE and then NINE and then 27 progressing in some weird exponential curve increasing every time you count the grey ones…….

It’s all perfectly natural and happens to everyone at some point in time……. You age you get greys….. Except only when you get grey at a time way to early, I mean don’t we learn in biology 101 how you get grey as you age and die…. OH NO!!! Does this mean I am dying ?????Yes we are born then we die but in between all that, life happens..the thing is I am too young to die and too old to die young……..Its like having midlife crisis at half the age it normally happens… OMG quarter life crisis

I discovered my first grey(s) in my late teens when I was still struggling to grow the fuzz on my face that I called a beard….

I used to pluck out the greys with a tweezer, until I discovered that it is also like counting them, for every ONE you pluck a new crop of grey will pop up in an arithmetic progression that boggles the mind……. at that rate by Christmas my beard would have been so snow white, I could cast for Santa Claus minus the big tummy of course….

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Suddenly other people notice it too….. It is so cute(not) how someone will ask you “hey do you know your beard is grey?Erm oh really I hadn’t noticed…… Or “How old are you…?” It is so hard not to be insecure when you are self-conscious about your “uniqueness

And then someone introduced me to dye…. The beauty of synthetic colour…. For a while I had the vibrant rich colour as advertised on the pamphlet, but only for a week and some change and then would need to dye it again…. I was always careful not to swallow any dye, to avoid dyeing slowly on the inside you see… but I ruined more than one good tshirt with splashes of colour. This one time I accidentally dyed my beard a most curious shade of blue, the instructions on the bottle are in Chinese so, yeah that……. It was hilarious watching people trying super hard not to stare, stealing glances at me..

Ladies who never step outside without wearing make-up….. I get it now….
I even discovered a handy use for a mascara brush, well I think that’s what it`s called the one, some ladies use to brush out their eyebrows or is it eyelashes??, to look like maybe they were born with it….. anyhoo that brush is handy as a dye applicator especially when you are going for that pencil thin beard that looks like its painted on….2014-04-02 13.59.46.jpg
….But unfortunately just as the spell, as counting and as plucking, when the dye wears off, you wind up with even more grey (or maybe it seems that way). So eventually I took a leaf from page in my mum’s book….

My mum has had rich shiny Silver hair from the first day I became aware that this woman gave birth to me…

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She embraced the genes she was created with and carries her uniqueness like an armour; small wonder, even now, some people actually ask her what dye or tint she uses because her hair is that striking, she laughs and always says “I was born with it.” Her hair started going grey when she was in her teens and I guess oh those genes passed on to me…..2015-04-19 15.51.25.jpg
I shave and I trim but I don’t dye it back, I walk around with wisps of grey on my chin and I feel sophisticated. There is an old wives tale about how if you start to go grey early, it is a sign that you will die, a wealthy man…. Some people do a double take and ask me my age and say “aren’t you too young to look that old” and I smile and say “I have wisdom far beyond my age, I am simply an old soul remembering all the things I forgot…..
It’s still weird, when someone compliments me and asks what kind of dye I use on my beard, I am not used to being noticed I am normally a wallflower, watching, but am getting used to the shift from looking at, to being looked at…


Its my birthday today, I looked in the mirror and noticed I have way more grey than I used to but that’s ok, I’ll wear my grey like a badge the color of wisdom, I feel sophisticated ageing gracefully on my way to becoming ME

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whats a birthday but an excuse to eat cake?????

What is this, on my beard why that’s lil bits of wisdom far beyond my years.

~B

 

 

Of Coffee On WashDay

If you were having coffee with me…… you would be in time to join me on my washday ritual. Washday for me comes every once in an assymetrical number of days, possibly weeks sometimes monthly there is no definite system, but usually the weekend before a week with events I want to look my best…… Happy Valentine’s day  ♥♥♥♥

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WashDay I circle it on my calendar in red over and over again and in case you are wondering, washday is not about laundry, it is a whole day dedicated to all things hair. I have twisted locks and you can tell by the length of my locks I am fanatic about it, you can call me Rasta B  

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First step is oil treatment or a conditioning mask, shampooing the hair makes it dry and brittle so first I pre-oil.

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After that the soap opera begins, detangling, anti-dandruff shampoo…. Lather, rinse and repeat until the hair foams freely and the rinse water runs clear. My eyes always wind up blood-red like I have been huffing paint; I have tried No More Tears Shampoo, but am not sure how much of it one must drink to stop the tears, though you start burping really cool bubbles. Sometimes when I run out of shampoo I use dish-washing liquid, and fabric softener as a conditioner. Some say it’s a terrible idea, some say its ok, all I know is it works except for an urge to want to wipe down dishes in the kitchen sink with my hair.

I am currently raving about a shampoo I bought from a street salesman. H e approached me while I was walking in town and said “Rasta Big Up, I promise if you buy this stuff you wont regret it” and since it cost only $1 I decided why not. He even gave me his number assuring me I would be placing a future order.

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I was a bit skeptical the bottle and label is unremarkable and the unscented gel shampoo smells is like detergent but I have to give it  a thumbs up a single palmful lathers up my entire hair and it doesnt dry it out. I think it has traces of conditioner and moisturiser in it. I’ll definitely be calling him up for my next fix.

If you were having coffee with me we would sit in the sun, and warm up after that soap opera affair as we wait for my hair to drip dry. One always hopes washday falls on a nice warm and sunny day.

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Next I section my hair into some sort of buns or is it bangs? I am not quite sure. Followed finally by retwisting all the new hair growth with beeswax; some oil and moisturiser.

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My hairdresser introduced me to this hair Ganjalizer Super Natural Herbal Hair Food. I suspect it has questionable legality issues seeing as the label claims it contains 100% Ganja also known as marijuana, cannabis, weed, herb, hemp…. People who sell it don’t display it and if you look like a plain clothed policeman undercover (i.e clean shaven; plain bald head) and ask for it they will tell you it’s out of stock.

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Ganjalizer

It does have the scent of marijuana and I think when you use it you might want to stay away from police sniffer dogs or areas where drug searches are conducted…. just to be safe. Common street myth is if you want your hair to grow luxuriously infusing marijuana seeds into your petroleum jelly and using that as hair food is the holy grail.

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If you were having coffee with me I would tell you about the acid test of successfully completed washday.

The Acid Test …. Walking downtown in an area where hairdressers and barbers are lined up on the pavement seeking out clients… If not a single one of them calls you and says “lets style or cut” or offer any service done on your hair then you know your hair is on point. Though sometimes just to fool you they might just call you…….

If you were having coffee with me I would ask you if a random hot person compliments you on your hair and then when you smiling and feeling yourself graciously trying to accept the compliment and then they suddenly say “By the way I am a hairdresser, here is my card call me sometime……” how genuine was the compliment they paid you or did they speak to you just to solicit for a potential client and would you call them?

Thanks for the visit do you have any hair routines and tips you might want to share? Have a happy heart day.

~B

Ps Some guys have washday too ☻☺☻

 

Of Coffee And Bicycle Rides With Psychos

 

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If you were having coffee with me we would go on a bike ride.

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When was the last time you rode a bike? I haven’t ridden a bike in ages, but its true what they say about bicycles, falling off is easy and oh, yeah you never really forget how to fall.
I had forgotten how riding a bike is so exhilarating the wind in your face, locks being blown behind you; man and machine ONE.

The bicycle is a curious vehicle. Its passenger is its engine.
~John Howard

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Enough of this Sunday stroll…… lets hurt a little, if you were having coffee with me, we going  to go up a steep slope, the further we ride, the heavier the pedals feel and that deep burn you feel in your thighs, its like we doing leg day at the gym, you gotta put in the work. When we finally stop your legs will feel like jelly but its totally worth it. I am fitness junkie you see get fit or die trying. I wish we had that tandem bike and we could ride together how much fun would that be? I promise would pick a route that is mostly downhill.

If you were having coffee with me, we would be having coffee instead the coffee mug would be full of ice cold water on the rocks, after the fun ride in the sun re-hydration is recommended. I am a big fan of the water therapy averaging 8 glasses at the least, you cant really have too much of water unless of course you have waaay too much.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you that there is supposedly a test which can show if you are a psycho or not, separating the sheep from the murderous goats as it were by simply answering the following test:

This is a genuine psychological test. It is a story about a girl.
While at the funeral of her own mother, she met a guy whom she did not know.
She thought this guy was amazing, so much her dream guy she believed him to be, that she fell in love with him there and then … A few days later, the girl killed her own sister.

Question: What is her motive in killing her sister?

If you get the answer correct congratulations you think like a psychopathic and should be very careful to not let that crazy show, blend in. I aced this test in case you are wondering and don’t know whether I should be happy or scared about it.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you that I have successfully managed to teach my twin nephews how to stomp on and kill cockroaches after numerous demonstrations and getting them to not run away from roaches like they are child eating beasts as they were doing earlier. With all the money I am going to save from not having to buy bug spray I am going to buy myself a set of earphones that don’t fall out when I run I need some snug fitting earphones so I can enjoy the simple pleasure of listening to music while I jog.
The best thing about teaching the twins to stomp on cockroaches is that not only are they taking care of my slight infestation problem, the hurricanes of pure energy are burning up excess energy and practically falling asleep on their feet without the usual drama…yey peace and quiet, they look like angels when they sleep.

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A baby on a tiger

~B

PS have you figured out the answer to the test?

Answer: She was hoping that the guy would appear at the funeral again.

If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was a test by a famous American psychologist used to test if one has the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took part in this test and answered it correctly. If you didn’t answer correctly – good for you. Ask your friends to take the test too for awareness …..If your friends hit the jackpot, may I suggest that you keep your distance. (If you got the answer correct, please let me know so I can take you off my friend list…)

PPS on a totally related matter Do not believe everything that you read on the Internet, have an awesome week

Of The Great TV Licence Conspiracy

TV Licence

I answered a knock at my gate, only to find it was a TV Licence Inspector and he was like ‘Sir I would like to see your VALID TV licence, if you do not have one; you can either renew it because I conveniently am authorised to issue out and renew licenses or I can write you ticket and you pay at your nearest police station so in addition to paying your license you also have to pay a fine within 7 working days or risk prosecution……

I might not know law but isn’t that a form of blackmail or extortion setup thing going on?

Anyway as I did not have cash on me nor did I want to go to jail I had a bright idea***:

I said to the guy “toita sei” meaning “what shall we do?” and he said “imi manga mati toita sei” meaning “what do you think we must do?

***This is the same conversation path you would delve down if you were seeking a bribe, I know people who take detours to avoid roadblocks with ZBC radio listener’s licences officials because they won’t pay car radio licences…. Oh I am firmly against bribes and corruption by the way

So I scratch my head looking thoughtfully into the distance and said “well… I dont have a TV…

His reply “I see a satellite dish on top of your roof you therefore have a TV…

And that’s when I was like “….but see if I have a sat-dish, doesn’t that mean to you I care not to watch your local TV and that’s why I might not pay TV licence (if I do have a TV and I don’t pay that is…) or maybe if you had better programmes and I did not feel I was being subjected to propaganda or endless repeats of stuff I watched growing up….

Yes I understand it costs money to get quality programming and if we don’t pay our TV licences then you can’t give us quality programming and well I don’t want to pay for substandard TV until I know I am not paying for shoddy viewing… and we reach an impasse… what for must happen happen now?

hmmm how about, can you as yet bar my TV from getting a signal….. Oh you havent gone digital yet ….. so I must pay simply because I own a TV…… besides how do you even know I have a TV hey wena jus because there is a fridge in my house doesn’t mean there is milk in it, just because my hair is the way it is doesn’t make me a witch-doctor I dare you to go look for my TV AND IF YOU FIND IT.. I will gladly pay the license, but IF YOU DONT…”

The inspector just walked away shaking his head…

I am now keeping gate locked and getting an attack dog and a sign that says

{Survivors will be hospitalised} !!!

I forgot to show him my phone and say “You see this phone it’s got…

  • a TV,
  • a radio,
  • a multimedia player,
  • a home theater system with flashing disco lights
  • the power of the internet and live streaming at the tip of my fingers
  • and other things I don’t know because the manual for it wasn’t in English

Do I need radio and TV license for it too?

~B

PS I where can I buy a TV that doesn’t have TV Tuner, not a TV but is simply a monitor? I wouldn’t have to pay a TV Licence for that now would I?

PPS would you rather have a month of Premium TV subscription or unlimited WIFI internet service?

Of A Sunday Story 

Imagine it’s Sunday and a friend who has been inviting you to their church for like forever, manages to catch you, when you have absolutely no reason to say no, at least not one you can make without seeming like perhaps you burst into flames when you enter the doors of a church ⛪ 

You agree to tag along, and when you get there, you really want to sit at the back, blend in, be inconspicuous, maybe somewhere you can make a quick exit if the sermon drags on for too long but noooo they drag you to the very front row 💺 

When the service starts the pastor asks that if there are any visitors may they stand up, introduce themselves and how they came to be here today and then be welcomed to the church. You try to slouch in your chair and make yourself invisible but everyone seems to be looking at you and your friend nudges you rather obviously in the ribs. Slowly you stand up and mumble your name, as your friend beams beside you. 😁

The pastor says “hallelujah” 🙋 the congregation shouts “hallelujah” back.🙌… 

The choir starts a hymn 🎤

Right in this place, the spirit is moving…. “♪  ♪

Slightly alarmed you look around  😱 For The Spirit  👻 that is moving in this place, right now…  

Eventually the sermon starts and the pastor reads from the book of the First Corinthians 11 verse 14.  About how man must not have long hair but a woman must never cut hers but she must cover it always. 
And you with your shoulder length locks can feel the eyes of everyone trying not to stare at you as the pastor delivers a fire and brimstone service about how demons live in braids and long hair…. 

You want to raise your hand and ask what if you are like Samson?

The Pastor says tell the person next to you, “I want to cast out the demon in you!”

“I want to cast out the demon in you you repeat!”

“Out!” the pastor says.. 

“Out!” the congregation repeats. 

Out!”

“Out!”

Suddenly voices in prayer fill the room, some even start speaking in tongues. It’s a bit disconcerting for you as you are used to more conventional churches where everyone bows their heads and close eyes to pray silently and only a few people one after the other speak their prayer requests out loud then everyone says Amen.. Not this when everyone speaks at the same time. 

You try not to stare at people slamming their bibles into their hands, jumping up and down while praying, filled with the Holy Spirit presumably… 

You realize you haven’t uttered a single word in prayer you try to but it’s rather hard to think of anything to say and finally you notice everyone slowly getting silent as the prayer session draws to a close, till everyone says Amen 
In conclusion the pastor then reads from the gospel of Matthew 25 verses 1-13. The parable of the ten virgins waiting for the groom, five of them were wise and five were foolish. The wise had extra oil for their lamps and the foolish did not…. 
The parable is to teach us that we must be constantly vigilant as no one knows the day or the hour of the coming of Christ…. 

It’s been an interesting service, you think to yourself and everything is going fairly OK until the pastor for emphasis just has to ask you, “So where would you rather be….  In the light with the five wise virgins or in the dark with the five foolish virgins….”

Erm, well, honestly I’d only answer that to a priest during confession.
Finally the service ends and on your way out people stop to greet you and ask you to please come again and you say  “I’ll see….”

~B 

Of Coffee: A Candlelit Affair

If you were having coffee with me ……….

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If you were having coffee with me, we would be having coffee by candlelight. This is courtesy of the power utility company who just switch off the electricity for no reason. Ok it’s not really for no reason its something called load-shedding, when the electricity usage becomes too high they flip a switch and here we are sitting in the dark.

Fortunately I had candles. I always keep them handy even though we do not get as many power cuts as we used to, I hope it’s a good sign, there was a time when we had no more than a few hours of electricity per day. Electricity was like that errant spouse who left before you woke up, only to come back after you went to bed.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you about this one time when I was having dinner by candlelight. The thing about candles, they are not very bright, they don’t talk and shed very little light, even if you move the candle as close to your plate as possible and lean so near into the light that  you smell something burning as the ends of your hair start smoking and possibly burst into flames (hair is spectacularly inflammable especially if well oiled and moisturised) or you singe your eyebrows, you still won’t really see clearly the stuff in your plate. Imagine you throw the last piece from your plate  in your mouth thinking it’s a cubed potato you were saving as a dessert, and turns out to be something else.

Anyway, so there I was eating my supper and there just had to be this big bone, and I was attacking it whole-heartedly, trying to suck out the bone marrow, that’s the best part, so it’s said. So there I am busy licking and sucking you know, really going at that bone at all angles, then suddenly the lights came on, because the power was back, and I had a close encounter with my dinner.

In my hands was the complete jawbone of a pig with teeth and all….. I inspected it in the light and to my horror I had been busy giving tongue action to the teeth of it… some of them were clearly cleaner, sparkling even, compared to the others which were covered in layers of plaque and lawd knows what else pigs eat…  Anyway pigs ain’t the most dentally hygienic animals that’s all I will say…

How I did not squeal and throw up right then and there is a testament to the skills I once told you about (see here)  but it was still quite shocking I even thought of following up on a pain and suffering lawsuit against the power utility company  but heck they got enough problems of their own.

Now I am all for not eating the heads of animals especially pigs and fish but that’s for another reason, it’s hard to eat something clearly looking at you.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you that what’s cooked in the dark should be eaten in the dark… And what goes on in the kitchen is a story for another.

Now hurry up and finish your coffee before the lights come on.coffee

 

of my hair

Genre: Contemporary  

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I am not my hair. My hair is unruly, it grows wild, long and free. I am not my hair but my hair is a part of me.

My hair speaks volumes without me ever saying a word. Judging by the length of my hair, you can tell that I have not been arrested in a long time (they cut your hair when you go to jail, so I have been told) So by the length of my hair you can tell I am a law abiding citizen or maybe I am just really good at never being caught.

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My hair is the length it is, not by design, but simply because I stopped going to the barber every other week, curious to see how long it would go. It grew to become too difficult to comb out the kinks in my hair so I let it grow into locks.

I am not a Rastafarian but people call me Rasta. I walk in the street and random people stop me just to say “Hi Rasta” like we are old friends, we shake hands and they say  “Jah Bless” like we belong to some secret society. They tell me stories about how they are Rastas too, on the inside, even if their hair won’t grow to be like mine and sing that song by Morgan Heritage Family, you do not have to have dreadlocks to be Rasta.

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I am not my hair but less than half of half the people who think they know me would not recognize me if I cut my hair, how can they, when they hardly know my name they just call me Rasta.

Imagine a random person walking up to you and asking you if you can hook them up with a cigarette or asking for matches or simply passing you a blunt and walking away no other words spoken, that happens every other day to me. Sometimes I walk with matches because it is easier to just give someone a light then a lengthy explanation why you do have matches and they still walk away thinking you simply refused.

Some call me Dread because of hair. I read that one of the origins of the word Dread referring to Dreadlocks is that the hairstyle was thought to be dreadful. I have long since discovered that the term Dread is one of respect, Dread also means Fear of the Lord. The Fear of God is the beginning of all wisdom so I rather like this definition of Dread, there is nothing dreadful about it.

I am not my hair but people make assumptions about me from my hair some good some not so good, but I can tell you from my hair you can tell that I I can stick with things for a long time, I guess I am a keeper .

From when my hair was awkward like this…. When everyone kept asking me when I would cut it

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to here

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I am not my hair,

I am not this skin

I am not your expectations

I am a soul that lives within

~India Arie

What does your hair say about you?

~B

My #BlogBattle entry themed Hair….

P.S. it is definitely shoulder length right??

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