notice when I look in the mirror more often that I look into the void. Where have recently, or recently, shaded lush growth of hair, the scalp, is now suddenly as a clearing in the forest after a hurricane.
Some, apparently tired of going out hair veterans waiting, still, a kind of border post the hairline. But they also convey the impression that they would be the next haircut rather cling to the mowing blade, as I continue to decorate.
A discovery that myself in recent times sad and thoughtful agreed. Until I once took the time to concern myself not only with my decreasing head of hair, but also with its environment.
And look, there are truly and genuinely reason to rejoice. Where curls are exaggerated, perhaps, but - we lose no hair, no, they go out either.
you enjoy the surroundings, start to migrate, settle in, make a relocation to emigrate.
because with as much speed with which the hair is thinning, my beautiful, deep black, maroon and bright-white tufts of hair growing out of the nose, ears and other inaccessible areas of the body.
Apparently the tribe's hair with the decades just too stupid to be cut back perennial and grow to have. And so it is picking at some point a point where it is safe from scissors, comb and clippers. can
My job in the future, therefore, only to run social awareness so that the hair will be met by the bald head with as much pleasure as the shaggy bangs.
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