golden hair, like its filled with sunshine and all things beautiful and lovely. but he was not a lovely person, just corrupt: an atheist in a sea of religious freaks. he found refuge in the music, the hard music that could rip your soul apart and leave you breathless. the ramones were his favorite--- sha la la la sha la la la la. he wore his yellow hair long so he could run his fingers through it and feel its softness. his hair was the only thing he ever liked about himself. which is sad, because i had always thought he was genuine and wonderful and full of beautiful curiosity that to this day still affects me through and through: within my whole insides and to my core.