The Existential Crisis Of A Man’s Back Hair

Who am I?

Well, I know who I am.

I am lower back hair.

But who am I?

Why do I exist? Why am I on this man’s body?

All other areas of hair make sense. All other areas know why they exist. The rule is: hair is like a map to important parts of this man’s body. If there is an area of hair, it’s because there is something important underneath. But I do not fit this rule.

“I exist because the head is where the brain is,” head hair told me. “The brain is where thoughts come from, this man could not live without his brain.” he added.

Head hair has been on this man’s body the longest. He saw all other body hair grow. He told me he has changed a lot over time.

“I started out blonde — almost white — but as this man grew, I have gotten darker,” he reflected. “During my time I have been left to grow long, party or completely shaved off, had my color changed, and even made into spikes using a clear, sticky substance. But that didn’t last long.”

Head hair gets washed and groomed regularly. This man likes head hair.

“The mouth is where words come from!” face hair declared. “That is why I exist.”

Face hair is a bit of a dick. We appeared on this man’s body at about the same time, but he thinks he is so much better than me because face hair can grow into a beard, and beards are a revered type body hair. But face hair doesn’t grow so well on this man. In fact, most of face hair actually grows on this man’s neck. I felt like pointing this out, but I thought it would be too mean. Besides, face hair gets completely shaved off pretty regularly.

I was scared to speak to the under arm hair twins. They’re reclusive, and to be honest, they smell weird. But it turned out that’s kind of exactly why they exist.

“We are here to remind this man when to take a shower,” they said… in unison. It was kind of creepy.

I spoke to other areas of hair and they all know why they exist. On legs and arms because this man uses his arms and legs to move and hold things. On this man’s chest because beneath are his heart and lungs.

Even nipple hair makes more sense than I do.

“We are here to highlight how silly these are,” left nipple hair said. “Men do not need nipples,” right nipple hair added. “These are useless. So, we’re here to cordon off this whole area.”

I approached butt hair, but he was an even bigger dick than face hair. He was really stand-offish and didn’t want to tell me what is so important about his area. It doesn’t matter though because I’ve pretty much figured it out on my own. I see what happens down there everyday. I have to live above that asshole.

Genital hair is a little confusing to me. “Why do you exist?” I asked. “Because this is where the fun happens!” he responded. I don’t know what that means.

Belly button hair (who prefers to go by snail trail) was no help when I asked the same question. “Because I lead to where the fun happens!” he shouted.

All I know is that this man sometimes grooms genital hair, and the only other one of us he treats that way is head hair, so he must like it…he certainly touches it a lot. Maybe that thing protruding from the middle of genital hair is another brain?

Every other area of hair knows why it exists except me.

It could be worse, I guess. Sometimes I see other men with upper back hair, which doesn’t seem to make sense either. Maybe they’re just as confused as me? And the men who have no hair on their head, as though their head hair has died. I try not to even think how confusing that must be.

Head hair tried to comfort me, saying this could all just be a weird phase. “Like when this man used to make me into spikes.”

But I’m not so sure.

“Have you thought about traveling?” he said. “That might help you find yourself… Go to Europe, or Asia, or Burning Man. Or, you know, just go spend more time with genital hair. I hear that’s where the fun happens.”