Not the one with the dog-dragon thing and the kid that wears the same sweater every day... I'm talking about tattoos. Now before you get all huffy and defensive, let me put it out there that I have one. A rather large one at that. One that will eventually wilt and closely resemble a willow tree, but whatever... I'm okay with that.
I have always been fascinated by tattoos. Whether or not it was intended, every tattoo comes with a story. That story may have inspired that tattoo or it very well may go the other way around. In fact, I remember very clearly the day I came home with my shirt tied to the side in an 80's flashback and my jeans unbuttoned and rolled down. I turned around and proudly displayed the masterpiece the artist and I created, planned and perfected. My mom immediately reached out to peel the "puff paint" off of me as there was no way this needle-phobic would have a real tattoo. Of course I yelled and informed her that it was indeed one hell of an expensive scab she was picking at. My dad got up and walked away.
Everyone asks me what the story is behind the tattoo. There really isn't one. I wanted one, but wanted something unique. Something no one else could stake a claim to. Something I helped create. It really has no deep meaning that I can identify. Sure, I was smack dab in the middle of my streak of defiance and rebellion, but that wasn't it. I wanted something beautiful and something in this world that was mine and mine alone.
I hear it everywhere that my generation is going to be the first to fill the nursing homes with 'mutilated' bodies. I really couldn't disagree more. Every time I ask these people if they have been to Old Vet's Place. Because if they have, they will realize we are not the first generation. There are several that came before us that bear the scars and memorials on their arms, chests, legs and hearts. I am usually rewarded with a blank stare that can do nothing more than blink a few times. When I take them to the hospital I notice the tattoos and I want to know the story, but I don't ask, afraid of what the story might do to me or them. Even so, I know it is there hiding somewhere in the pigment.
So what's your story?
4 comments:
I had a dream that my best childhood friend (who has since died of cancer) came to visit me here on Earth. She had big, beautiful wings, and the word "Protect" was written on her back. She talked to me and told me that I was strong and that it was my destiny (how cliché) to protect life. And I woke up with this dream very clear in the front of my mind, promptly drew up a tattoo idea, and got it the next week.
Very simple. The word "Protect" in between two angel wings. It's on my left hip, so that no one can see it unless I show them, because I got it for me, not for anybody else.
And yeah, it was fun when my parents found out :P That's an entirely different story, haha!
I have 3 tats, 2 are created w/ the Yin/Yang symbol as the focal point. For the reason (to me) A little good in evil, and a little Evil in good. It's a balance, life is all about balance. The other is a barbed-wire heart, and someday my kid/kids names will be inside.
Sam I LOVE it. I am wavering back and forth on getting a tattoo on my wrist. It would go along the side of my arm from my pink towards my elbow. It will be the same inscription as the Lieutenant's wedding band.
Azull, I totally agree!
Chicks with tattoo's are hot.
The above comment serves as proof that when you have nothing intelligent to say it may be better to say nothing. But...
Chicks with tattoo's are still hot.
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