This morning’s recall is super fuzzy. All I have is a vague feeling of where I was and one “image” of looking at myself in a mirror and seeing a failed curling iron session.
I must’ve started to curl my hair, then someone around me distracted me with an apparently urgent matter which turned out not to be at all. I left the curling iron clipped on the one piece I was working on way too long and it completely burnt the hair wrapped around it. I picked up the crispy strand with my fingers upset, but not at all surprised. My mind was already figuring out how I can use my remaining hair to salvage the situation as I slowly peeled it off my scalp leaving a large bald spot near my front left temple.
The place where I was felt like a naturalistic commune. It felt free – free of labour for money, free of serious conflict, free of advanced technology (except my curling iron I guess). It felt like an old but refreshing place.