Tattoo, needle, pain, planning, community, personality, unprofessional, styles, appeal
Last week, I paid someone to repeatedly stick a [needle] with ink into my arm. The design he imprinted upon me is cute and meaningful, and it’s on my body forever. Not even a week has passed since I last saw my bare bicep, and I haven’t quite processed the permanence yet. I have, however, been thinking about it constantly. I show it to all of my friends and I study it when I’m alone.
I’ve been researching and redesigning for months now, and my eyes are focusing on others’ [tattoo]s. I wonder, “when did she get that? How much did it [hurt]? Why did she decide on that design?” I can have conversations with people about a [tattoo] they’re [planning] on getting, or why they don’t want one. Of course, I could have these conversations before, but now I feel more like I am part of a [community]; a group of brave, artistic, super cool souls. I feel like my appearance can now better reflect my [personality] than just my face or clothes can.
In the past, [tattoo]s have been regarded as [unprofessional] and generally disapproved of. According to historyof[tattoo]s.net, “36% of Americans between the age[s] of 18 and 29 have at least one [tattoo].” That number is still increasing; our generation values self expression and owning one’s own body more than our predecessors do. The variety of [tattoo]s — of stories and art [styles] and placement — is fascinating. I’ve always been amazed by [tattoo]s and, more importantly, people who have [tattoo]s. Now that I am one of them, I feel — for lack of a better word — cool.
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