13 december 2016
writing more on paper. want to have more feelings. feeling unproductive. gotta stay focused.
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!! CONTENT NOTE this entry talks a lot about tattoos, and describes some potentially graphic imagery (body or otherwise) relating to tattoos
i'm writing a paper on tattooing practices and indigenous identities and this just makes my skin itch for more tattoo. i want images pounded into my skin, shapes and lines that remind me of truths i have learned and growth i've accomplished.
the more i read and think, the harder it is for me to see tattoo aversion as much more than just another face of racism. not for people who don't want tattoos of their own, i mean. i mean, people who take all tattoos as representing something bad, something crude, something undesirable.
once, i was talking about my tattoos with a non-tattooed person, and after listening for a while, his friend decided i was someone he shouldn't mess with. 'nah, nah,' the one i was talking with said. 'that's just someone who's learned something about themselves. that's good. you don't have to know what it means.'
i have to think about what i've learned recently that needs to be on my skin. that needs to be between my body and what is not my body.
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some tattoos i've wanted recently:
- a really vivid/gross caterpillar; i am extremely phobic of caterpillars, and i want to carry one with me all the time so i can look at it or think about it whenever i want, and exert some control over that part of myself
- a moth; wherever i go, any time of the year, i look towards the moon every night. i think about how that's the same moon everyone else sees when they look up. i think about how the moon is cold and dead, but reflects enough light from the distant sun that on some nights it's as clear as day. sometimes, it's more clear than day.
- a flaming rabbit; there's a story about a rabbit that offers its body as food, and i have a picture in my head of the rabbit diving into the fire to cook its own flesh. there's another story about a rabbit that builds a wall of tinder at the mouth of a cave in which a monster slept, and burned itself in the process of killing the monster. i remember the first time i watched a video of self-immolation as protest. i wonder if i will ever know if there's a moment for me to stand up as a sacrifice.
- patterns; to fill in some space, to color in some skin. to forcibly change my external appearance. when i was in high school, i'd sharpie across my arms and hands, weaving patterns to calm myself. that they eventually faded away was often a relief, because it gave me room to start over and correct mistakes, but maybe i have grown enough to earn blocking in more parts permanently.
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i miss the feeling of fresh ink spilling out of my skin while my body heals. i can feel it, the slow rejection of extra material mixed with plasma. i bled during my last tattoo; i felt it when the machine kicked too hard, and saw the blood pooling around my tattooist's gloved fingers. during a previous session, i'd asked him if it ever bothered him that he caused people pain when tattooing. 'no,' he replied gently. 'i'm more worried i'll do a bad job and mess up the tattoo.'
some pain is brief. some consequences last a long time. the part where i bled is still visible to me; the lines there lose sharpness, spreading deeper into my skin without the fine control of the patterns near them.