Checking myself out. Yeah baby!

No mirror experiment. Day 2.

What I see in the mirror defines me. This is all subject to the state of my mind on any given day. Or, seriously, from one hour to the next.

I’ve been listening to, observing my mind on this for some months now. Probably since around the time I cut all my hair off with a pair of nail scissors.

You know, “What’s beauty? What does it mean to be feminine? To be a woman? How could that hair be all my beauty?" 

To one who no longer finds me beautiful with a number 2, 'Were you in love with my hair? If I gave it to you in a bag, cut off, would it be beautiful still to you?'

So I’ve been looking in the mirror just as much since the clippers as I ever did before, apart from a period, age 17 or 18 (what I sometimes look back on as the happiest time of my life so far) when I didn't dare look in the mirror but at some distance, in a dimly lit room!! Jaysus!

Anyhoo. Less of the amateur psychoanalysis or I’ll end up on happy pills.

Good mood: 'Good. Nice. Pretty. Sweet. Freckles. Not red. Sexy. Woman.''

Bad mood: 'Jaysus! Awful! Fat cow! Red. Helmet (that’s my hair by the way). Butch. Fat arms.'

Each set of mental habits can determine my mood for the day.

The mind is mad. 

Mad, monkey mind.