I've come to a realization that I suffer from a Jesus Christ complex. Although I doubt the long hair has anything to do with it, I stopped going to super cuts in 2005. It took two years after that to created the visionary illusion of Christ. FWIW, I don't like it. But the long hair keeps me warm in winter, plus I never could stand getting haircuts.
Back in the early 00's, late 90's, I remember perusing a book from the religion section of the library. What caught my eye about the book was the idea that Christ was not born on December 25. Okay, I am surely going to hell for suggesting something like this during the last two Weeks of the year, but these little rants serve as very therapeutic for me. Not only did the author suggest a date in which he believed Christ to be born on, that date happens to have been my freaking b-day. So I start philosophizing about how Christ may well have been a pisces--that would explain the use of a fish symbol among Christian bumper stickers--but it gets me thinking that the characteristics possessed by pisces would mean that Jesus and I might be… birds of a feather?
Here is my hand. See the little speck on my palm? That's a bruise I discovered a week ago. It's still painful. The thing is this; I can't remember for the life if me where or how I gave myself this ouchy. The funny thing is, each day that goes by and I remind myself that I have a small speck if blood that bled inside my hand, I look at the back of my hand to check if there's a hole.