Tattoo <3
A tattoo not only alters your appearance, but it is also reflective of the person you are. It not only defines you, but also what you hope to achieve. To many tattoos are just scars, but to me they are more than just ink and scars. They are an escape, a cryptic road to the world where I hope to be.
Every time I look at my tattoos, I am transported to a world of memories that I wish to share with no one. How much ever life might hurt me, my tattoos never fail to provide me relief from the restlessness and the insanity life tends to cause. My tattoos are like my babies. I don’t care what prompted me into getting them, including an otherwise insane impulse (like the world claims it to be), I love them nonetheless. They are beautiful to me. They mean the world to me. They are my secret stash of memories and happiness that nobody will ever be able to take away from me. They are happiness. They are secret symbols. They are my love.
They genuinely make me happy. Though according to the world my second tattoo must cause me a lot of regret, it doesn’t. Actually, it makes me smile. Every time I look at it, I feel a rush of joy caused by all the memories associated with it. Frankly, I had expected myself to feel some regret for getting it done, but I do not. Not even in the smallest degree. It makes me as happy as the day I got it done, a sort of satisfaction actually. But whatever it is, it feels great.
