I bleeping love tattoos. I always wanted a tattoo when I was younger. I was always afraid to get one. Then when I went to college (yes I did go, it was a blink of an eye moment, but nonetheless I still went), I got my first tattoo. “Brave warrior” right on my left shoulder.
I got inspired by a Demi Lovato lyric. When I heard her song Warrior it spoke to me in the loudest way possible. I feel like I relate to that song so well because I have been through the thickest of mud and the hardest of concrete and I am still here. Sure, bruised, beat up, in pain, but HERE.
The day I got that tattoo, I nearly fainted. Or I did, can’t remember, but the rush was great. I loved it and I have loved it ever since. Then months later I got another tattoo near the crease of my arm/ elbow. In the same area I got another small tattoo in San Fran.
Those tattoos mean the world to me. They mean so much because I got them with friends that I cherish and I look back at those times and I smile because it was honestly one of the best moments in my life.
But sadly. When I went through my “I’m a virgin for God” phase I started the process of getting them removed, and till this day I still do. Even though I am getting them removed that doesn’t mean I regret them. Sounds like hypocrisy but give me a sec to explain.
Even though I go and come back from Church I still feel like getting them removed. Not the one on my shoulder though. That one is staying because it has a special meaning to me that no one can take away.
The process of getting them removed though. OMG. Ok just picture this, and this is as accurate as I can get ok? So lets just say you take a fork, yes a fork, and you go to your stove, the flames are blazing like they are welcoming you into hell, and you lay the fork there for a good ten minutes or so. Then you grab the fork, and start poking at your skin like there’s no freaking tomorrow. That’s how it feels to get a tattoo removed.
Oh, and get this, it gets better, every single time you go back it gets worse. That’s right, its like they left the dam fork an extra minute on the eternal flames of death.
Of course its not an actual fork that they use, its this little tiny cute laser that blasts into your skin. Lovely. It breaks down the ink in your skin so your body can take care of the rest and dispose of the ink when you use the Wiz Palace. It’s actually a beautiful process that lasts just about 3 years.
If you’re lucky enough maybe you had an inexperienced tattoo artist with cheap ink, so then your removal will be a walk in the park. If you went to a good tattoo artist who has amazing Mona Lisa work of arts and has that high end ink derived right from under the throne of Satan, then your walk in the park is going to be a 3 AM, getting mugged and beat up while also getting hit with a stick, then later peed on my a dog, type of walk. Wonderful.
If you want a tattoo just make sure you want that on you for the rest of your life. I know you already heard that a millions times, but I don’t give a dam bro, listen. You remember those dope shoes you bought that were over priced but you just had to have them because you wanted to be “the cool kid”. Or even if that wasn’t you, just picture those shoes or heels (for the ladies, whats up gurl) that you love, now its been years, they smell. They look worn out, they have this weird smell that is concerning, they’re drooping and now instead of “nice kicks man” you get “dang son can’t you afford new shoes?”
That’s a tattoo.
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