Permanently accessorized.
Yes, unfortunately this upped my chances of being victimized by those foul, foul "Hey baby, when you fell from heaven..." pick up lines. Cest la vie.
Tattoo numero uno, achieved at age 18. Back then, by parental force, I was attending an abominable Christian private college. Tattoos were an absolute no-no. I was in full blown self annihilation mode back then and did everything I possibly could to get myself expelled from that wretched institution. The first day after having this baby successfully injected into my dermis I ran around campus in a dress so that anytime I wanted to show a friend my newest accouterment I'd have to display my knickers to the entire world. Red Satans panties.
Mania without madness. Quoted from French psychiatrist Philippe Pinel who was researching psychopaths/sociopaths. I think it fits humanity in general. I am also a self proclaimed sociopath ;)
Half sleeve in the making.
My ink is the biggest part of who I am. It's permanent and I suffered for it and will be judged accordingly for it the rest of my life. I may even come to hate it. It may even look hideous when I reach that terrifying age of 50. The point is, I knew and accepted all of that before all was said and done. I'm incredibly self indulgent.
All my fellow tatted kindred souls, please share with me! I'm just as addicted to other peoples art as I am to my own.
damnant quod non intelligunt
