Ink.

I got a tattoo.

There, it’s out there. I’ve sat here for far too long, trying to figure out the best way to describe this thing. It’s all so….big. Huge. Just…honestly, there are no words for it. There are so many layers to what I’m feeling that it just comes out as nothing. It’s not only the aspect of having a tattoo, it’s also having this particular tattoo, having actually gone through with the decision, having sat through it, having taken the step, to be willing to face all the crap I probably will have to take for it, and dealing with the very little amount of crap that’s already been thrown at me.

I regret nothing.

And I know that I won’t. I just do. Because it’s so what I am, and now it’s been manifested as a physical part of me, as real as my skin, my brain and my heart. It’s me, and now everyone can see it. So if someone judges my tattoo, they judge me, and that’s fine. Because, like with everything else about me, if you don’t like it, then you can just walk away. Actually, run, because I don’t want you near me anyways.

I’ve been obsessed with tattoos in general for years now, and I’ve seen pictures of countless pieces of art. And even though my tattoo is about the shape of three coins, and don’t have any fancy designs or colors, it’s still the most beautiful tattoo I have ever seen. Because it is my life.

Faith, hope and love.

Summer.

Hello.

These past couple of weeks have been fantastic. I’ve had this amazing job, spending some quality time with one of the few non-living things I love – books. I had fun every day, and learned a few things from my supervisor. I saw the last HP film, which was the epitome of bittersweetness. Mostly sweet though. I’ve been to a festival, which was one of the craziest experiences I’ve ever had. It included seeing some awesome bands, crying at a few concerts, dancing with strangers, moshing, and laughing at silly things…like seeing someone you used to consider to be pretty bland fucked up. And I mean really fucked up. Just generally living in the moment. Oh, and what might be the biggest thing – I’m getting a tattoo. Well, I’ll have to wait six months, but it’s happening. Which is bigger than getting a tattoo would normally be. Because I never do these kind of things. Things that aren’t neutral, things that can’t be taken back. I feel like I’m improving. At least I’m trying to. And trying is the first step, right?

But there’s still something missing. There’s a void, and I keep telling myself that I should be focusing on me, and let the other stuff come later, but it’s easier said than done. I thought that the summer would make me forget him. That the infatuation would fade when the “object” was taken away. I think that it had the opposite effect. Which is bad. And good. Or I don’t know. I guess I’ll just have to see when ordinary life kicks in again. Maybe this is a good thing. In any case, I’m going to focus on the here and now, and try to really enjoy my life. Because I know that I’m really lucky to have it.

Xx.

Writings on my skin.

Good evening fellow earthlings,

as you’ve probably noticed by now, I have a particular fondness for tattoos. In other words, I love them. There’s just something about having your skin marked with something personal, a message that you can choose to show the world, or keep private, a reminder that’s only for you to see. And it’s forever. This is usually the most off-putting part for people, but that’s actually one of the things I like the most about tattoos. Forever. I love forever.

So, one of the dreams I have in life is to get a tattoo. Well, a couple, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Though it’s a definite desire I have, I’ve never thought of it as something I’d actually do. Why, you ask? The most current reason is that my mother wouldn’t approve. She doesn’t have anything against people with tattoos, but doesn’t approve because of the whole “honor your body, for it is your temple” thing (which I absolutely agree with, but obviously, tattooing would be like decorating and celebrating that temple). I know this may sound trivial, but remember that I’m still a minor, and mommy’s rules go. However, I am turning eighteen this year. Becoming an adult and all that stuff. Which is bull, because we all know that you don’t actually magically grow up the moment you turn eighteen, and your parents don’t automatically let go. But the real reason is probably that I’m too chicken shit. There are two kinds of people in the world: dreamers and go getters, the latter being the upgraded version of the former. Unfortunately, I have not upgraded, and ideas in my mind rarely leave the mental drawing board.

However, there’s nothing wrong with dreaming, it is the first step towards becoming a go getter. So let’s dream a little, shall we? Let’s say that I am actually getting a tattoo. What would I get? As much as I love the idea of having beautiful artwork on my body, that doesn’t really feel like me. At least art in the form of images. What feels like me? Art in the form of words. Words, words, words. I live for them. I love reading, writing and living by words. And honestly, I feel like I’m better at writing what I feel than saying them out loud. I found this website with the prettiest font I ever saw, so here are the words that I would probably choose if I were to get tattooed right now, in the following style as well:

This sentence kind of summarizes my life in the most beautiful way. I spend most of my time thinking about what the meaning of life might be, and even though there’s no way I’ll know the definite answer, I strive to find everything I can that may make my life more than it is. Even though this is my clear intention in everything I do, I sometimes forget that. When things get scary, I simply choose to do nothing, missing what could be, instead choosing to remain where I am. Which is an okay place, but nowhere near where I want to end up. So this would be a great reminder. Another reason for me wanting this quote is that I first read it in Looking for Alaska, by John Green, which is, along with The Catcher in the Rye, my favorite book. And even though my life will probably change and I’ll read plenty of other books, some that may be better, this one will always be the one that changed me, like all things do, but in a way that I feel was so necessary for me. It opened my eyes, and my mind, and it will always hold a special place in my heart.

If the first one is a reminder of what I want to achieve in life, this one is a reminder of what I have, and what I will need to find it. Even though you hear them all the time, it’s so easy to forget these things. Faith is something that is extremely important to me. In fact, to all human beings. Even if it necessarily doesn’t have to mean faith in the religious sense. Personally, I do believe in God. I believe there’s someone out there looking after me, even though it might not feel that way all the time, and I want to be able to remember that. Always. But, equal in importance, I also want to be reminded of the fact that I mustn’t lose faith in myself. And I can’t lose faith in humanity either. Even when things are looking dark. Hope isn’t something I have to be reminded of to have, because even in the worst situations – we always feel hope. Even when we feel hopeless, we have hope. The reason for me wanting that word is because sometimes, I forget to acknowledge that hope. When things feel shit, I still have that feeling of hope, but I need to put that feeling front and center, because with hope comes strength, and with strength – you can do anything. And lastly, love. Love is everything. Love is the most beautiful thing in this world, and if you have love, the rest might not come automatically, but it gets a heck of a lot easier to go find it.

Actually writing out these reasons makes me want these words on me even more. See? I told you that I’m better at writing what I think than saying it…maybe even better at writing than actually thinking it. I don’t know. I might get them tattooed. One day.

Rebel rendevouz.

A short one (but not really now that I’ve written it).

I thoughtlessly walk down the science majors’ hall, to a man in his mid-twenties. The man has coiffed, black hair, and is wearing a jean shirt, black jeans and black cons. Though he has his shirt sleeves rolled up, his arms are covered by another kind of sleeves. Vibrant colors, intricate patterns weave through each other to form beautiful motives. His tattoos mesmerize me. I realize that they are the reason for me approaching him in the first place. The vague sight of color hypnotized me. The man gives me a surprised smile and I ask him about the ink, not caring about the fact that I don’t know him at all. We chat for bit, with a generous amount of flirting, until the bell rings. Apparenty, he has some kind of task in a different part of school, and we have to part ways. On the way to the classroom I’m met with whispers that run through the crowd of studens lining up along the hall. It’s considered scandalous for a student to interact with one of the older guys, but I don’t seem to care. I am late to class, but still running with the rebel thing, so I cockily strut around the tables to my seat in the far back. The burning stares of the students only feed my attitude, and the only thing that causes me to react is someone humming the melody to “I Fell in Love With a Girl”, by the White Stripes, and when I turn my head to the source of the sound, I see the tattooed man sitting there. I don’t show my surprise, instead choosing to throw a flirty smirk his way. After I’ve sat down, I discreetly sneak a glance at him, trying to be nonchalant, and see him stand up. He walks up to me and leans in to whisper something. I put my hand on his neck, but quickly take it back. His skin feels like it’s on fire. I check my hand, but nothing is different. He tells me to meet him in the gazebo after sundown, and then just walks away. With the sound of the teacher scolding someone in the background, I ponder which gazebo he could be talking about. A light switch flips. I get an image of a beautiful white gazebo in my head, wrapped in tiny, white lights and surrounded by lilies. I smile to myself, thinking that I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows about that place. The bell rings us out, indicating the end of the day…

And then I wake up.