hair on the cue ball

Hairs grow out of my head. Little spools of hair between the skin and skull continuously unfurling. I whack 'em from time to time with various sharp implements -- weed eaters of the head. They'll outlive me. As will the fingernails and toenails. Feeding off my body until there is no nourishment left. Unless of course I go the incineration route. That'll teach 'em! I won't let them go on without me. Kind of romantic in a way. Like lovers leaping together from a cliff, bound forever in their de-termination.