"Kuntento na ka?"

asked the woman who cut my hair.

No.
Of course not.
Try to shut up, please, and comb my hair softly.
I know it's thick, black — and you wonder why, and you ask me, like the others before, "Did you have your hair dyed?" And I say no again for the thousandth time — probably stubborn, and difficult to deal with.
But I'm trying to be happy while getting lost inside SM on this extremely lonely Sunday. So please, be patient with my hair.

Smile, too. Make me believe I am worth your time.

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