I would never have thought that I would get myself inked, let alone get a tattoo on my back right on top of my spine! It’s not even like I’ve been itching to get a tattoo my whole life but just did not have the courage to or has not been allowed to. Trust me, I have high tolerance for pain so courage is out of question and parental consent has never been an issue. I’ve never been that crazy over tattoos and I have not even tried its substitute- henna. I don’t really know what came over me; I guess this is a result of my plain love for art in general. About three or four weeks ago, a good friend told me that she and the BF were planning to open a tattoo studio near the BF’s place. I felt like it was the perfect timing for me to try it out. After weeks of openly talking to my friends/officemates about my intentions of having my back inked, it finally happened last Sunday! Turns out, another friend who has been dying to get a tattoo since I-don’t-know-when, was very eager to have his ink done that weekend and insisted I tag along. I was already sure about getting a tattoo anyways so I didn’t really bitch about getting it done this soon.
Sunday felt like a movie in fast forward. I remember getting in a cab with my friend, he was telling me how nervous he was and how the day’s activity felt like going to a ghetto place to do drugs, I responded by saying that I was also nervous but I felt more like I was on my way to the dentist than doing drugs just because I’ve never been a junkie my whole life. And then fast forward- we were in a cab again, on our way home, proudly talking about how we survived getting inked, talking about the pain and pleasure, how we were both in disbelief that we finally had ourselves eternally marked. Credits roll along with the soundtrack (U2's Bloody Sunday) playing in the background of black. I wake up and it’s a Monday and I’m a little hung over. Sunday’s events begin playing in slow motion and I start filling in the gaps. Everything in between the fast-forwarded scenes is flashbacks of pain and pleasure.
My tattoo’s almost completely healed as I'm writing this and now I feel like I carry a constant reminder in my back. Right below my zodiac sign says “Happiness is only real when shared.” Yes, that’s taken from Jon Krakauer’s book, Into the Wild, which chronicles the life of the vagabond Christopher McCandless. That phrase stuck to my head after I read the book and has since become a personal mantra. I agree with the guy, unshared happiness is really not happiness at all. It’s called something else; you all know what that word is. I'm happy with how things turned out. The tattoo looks nice and I didn't have to deal with infection. I'm surprised because it healed really fast! Planning to get a tattoo soon? Please check out my friends' tattoo studio- Wicked Ink!
(Across Kool Hangover formerly Jardin)
wore: Baleno V-neck Tee, Terranova Skinnies, Vans Half Cab, Rayban Wayfarers